How to Read Superhero Comics and Why

Rating:
Summary: Fresh insight, but poor taste: way too much Moore
Review: 4 stars, not 3 stars -- because Klock's use of Bloom's anxiety of influence is a great, novel way of reading comic books. I enjoyed reading (in about 2 days) although there were places where I don't think Klock really made his point well (and I consider myself somewhat informed by Bloom's criticism).

My recommendation is: if you are interested in an intellectual view of comics (90s, and 00s comics) then this book is for you. Moreover, if you like Alan Moore's comics and you want to read an interesting take on them, this is definitely the book for you.

The problem is: I don't like Moore as much as Klock does. I admit that his perspective on Killing Joke, ABC Comics, Miracleman, etc., -- this stuff is good -- but I don't think Moore is nearly as influential as Klock thinks. Yes, Watchmen is an important comic. Yes, it did change the industry back in the 90s. But to take Bloom's theory and say that Moore is the Shakespeare of the comics field, well, that's saying a bit too much. Moore's not all that.

One amazon reviewer above hit the nail on the head: Klock totally avoids dealing with Marvel comics (except to remind everyone how the Fantastic Four are getting grilled by Ellis in _Planetary_). For someone like me who favors Marvel comics over DC (while admitting that DC has been the arena of many original comics in the past decades), this book gets a bit tedious.

Other problems with the book (which the author acknowledges) is his way of focalizing the _writer_ over the artist. I feel that this project was only half-realized. It seems to me that if you going to talk about the future of comics, you have to take into account the blossoming of writer/artists -- and maybe that's why he avoids Marvel and deals more with the DC writer + artist teams. Only at various times does he talk about the layout of the comic page, but overall, the stylistics of the comic book get overlooked by the author which is a shame. It is difficult to talk about sequential art (Scott McCloud gets a lot of credit for boiling it down like he has) -- but this should be the main aim of anyone discussing comics. Yes, Alan Moore is incredible, but so are his artists Bissette, Sprouse, Gibbons, etc.

Bringing up Jack Kirby only to say that he was co-opted by Wildstorm as a character in one of their books isn't going to cut it. If you want to trace influence in comics, it comes from there (or maybe Siegel and Shuster, or Kane, etc.). Klock stresses the importance of the "writer" over characters, but he treats the Fantastic Four as characters with whom the third age (Moore, etc.) struggle to overcome -- why isn't it Lee and Kirby that they're struggliing to overcome? Inconsistencies like this don't help the book -- I also wish the author was more consistent applying Bloom's theory and terminology throughout the chapters (some may appreciate this) -- and at other times he's far too abstruse (where was his editor?).

Overall, this is a good book. Not great. Certainly controversial. I mean, come on: WildC.A.T.S/Aliens crossover is a starting point for the new age of comics? Gimme a break!

Rating:
Summary: Fresh insight, but poor taste: way too much Moore
Review: 4 stars, not 3 stars -- because Klock's use of Bloom's anxiety of influence is a great, novel way of reading comic books. I enjoyed reading (in about 2 days) although there were places where I don't think Klock really made his point well (and I consider myself somewhat informed by Bloom's criticism).

My recommendation is: if you are interested in an intellectual view of comics (90s, and 00s comics) then this book is for you. Moreover, if you like Alan Moore's comics and you want to read an interesting take on them, this is definitely the book for you.

The problem is: I don't like Moore as much as Klock does. I admit that his perspective on Killing Joke, ABC Comics, Miracleman, etc., -- this stuff is good -- but I don't think Moore is nearly as influential as Klock thinks. Yes, Watchmen is an important comic. Yes, it did change the industry back in the 90s. But to take Bloom's theory and say that Moore is the Shakespeare of the comics field, well, that's saying a bit too much. Moore's not all that.

One amazon reviewer above hit the nail on the head: Klock totally avoids dealing with Marvel comics (except to remind everyone how the Fantastic Four are getting grilled by Ellis in _Planetary_). For someone like me who favors Marvel comics over DC (while admitting that DC has been the arena of many original comics in the past decades), this book gets a bit tedious.

Other problems with the book (which the author acknowledges) is his way of focalizing the _writer_ over the artist. I feel that this project was only half-realized. It seems to me that if you going to talk about the future of comics, you have to take into account the blossoming of writer/artists -- and maybe that's why he avoids Marvel and deals more with the DC writer + artist teams. Only at various times does he talk about the layout of the comic page, but overall, the stylistics of the comic book get overlooked by the author which is a shame. It is difficult to talk about sequential art (Scott McCloud gets a lot of credit for boiling it down like he has) -- but this should be the main aim of anyone discussing comics. Yes, Alan Moore is incredible, but so are his artists Bissette, Sprouse, Gibbons, etc.

Bringing up Jack Kirby only to say that he was co-opted by Wildstorm as a character in one of their books isn't going to cut it. If you want to trace influence in comics, it comes from there (or maybe Siegel and Shuster, or Kane, etc.). Klock stresses the importance of the "writer" over characters, but he treats the Fantastic Four as characters with whom the third age (Moore, etc.) struggle to overcome -- why isn't it Lee and Kirby that they're struggliing to overcome? Inconsistencies like this don't help the book -- I also wish the author was more consistent applying Bloom's theory and terminology throughout the chapters (some may appreciate this) -- and at other times he's far too abstruse (where was his editor?).

Overall, this is a good book. Not great. Certainly controversial. I mean, come on: WildC.A.T.S/Aliens crossover is a starting point for the new age of comics? Gimme a break!

Rating:
Summary: Criticism Beyond Campbell
Review: I devoured this book in a day, supremely happy to find a text that took superhero comics seriously as a topic for detailed literary criticism.
Klock's central premise, that contemporary super hero comics survive and reach great heights in how they interrogate and relate to the bewildering history of superhero comics, is well-argued through the poetic analysis of Harold Bloom. It is a thrill beyond words to see the arm-chair analysis of Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, or Ellis' Wildstorm work be given such a rigorous academic treatment, and to find it all so readable.
This is a fantastic find for any comic fan who has come through a liberal arts program and can handle a few chunky quotes.

Rating:
Summary: Criticism Beyond Campbell
Review: I devoured this book in a day, supremely happy to find a text that took superhero comics seriously as a topic for detailed literary criticism.
Klock's central premise, that contemporary super hero comics survive and reach great heights in how they interrogate and relate to the bewildering history of superhero comics, is well-argued through the poetic analysis of Harold Bloom. It is a thrill beyond words to see the arm-chair analysis of Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, or Ellis' Wildstorm work be given such a rigorous academic treatment, and to find it all so readable.
This is a fantastic find for any comic fan who has come through a liberal arts program and can handle a few chunky quotes.

Rating:
Summary: A terrific, intelligent, innovative genesis
Review: It is the Why which is driving How to Read Superhero Comics...and Why, which suggests a particular prism through which to see (or "read") the history of superhero comic book. Klock puts forth his multigenerational contention that the definition for each era of superhero comics emerges from an Oedipal interrelationship with the past in the tradition of theorist Harold Bloom. The book is most interested in making big arguments, many of which are both creative and novel. His exploration of Warren Ellis' ingenious, airtight would-be origin point for The Authority and his reading of Planetary's relationship to his antecedent fictions are welcome, overdue, innovative additions to the discussion of superhero comics. But too often Klock's book remains locked in either abstract or the broad; it suggests several intriguing avenues to pursue, routes that would surely benefit further from such clever analysis. It is an invitation: With all of his concern for Bloomian rewriting, Klock seems to be soliciting the next wave of critics to carry his banner further, either with books he overlooked, titles to come, or simply the theorists he has highlighted.

Rating:
Summary: A terrific, intelligent, innovative genesis
Review: It is the Why which is driving How to Read Superhero Comics...and Why, which suggests a particular prism through which to see (or "read") the history of superhero comic book. Klock puts forth his multigenerational contention that the definition for each era of superhero comics emerges from an Oedipal interrelationship with the past in the tradition of theorist Harold Bloom. The book is most interested in making big arguments, many of which are both creative and novel. His exploration of Warren Ellis' ingenious, airtight would-be origin point for The Authority and his reading of Planetary's relationship to his antecedent fictions are welcome, overdue, innovative additions to the discussion of superhero comics. But too often Klock's book remains locked in either abstract or the broad; it suggests several intriguing avenues to pursue, routes that would surely benefit further from such clever analysis. It is an invitation: With all of his concern for Bloomian rewriting, Klock seems to be soliciting the next wave of critics to carry his banner further, either with books he overlooked, titles to come, or simply the theorists he has highlighted.

Rating:
Summary: An Intellectual's Look at the Superhero Universe
Review: Like a kid in a candy store, Klock brings an obviously top-notch education to bare on the red-headed step child of art and literture: the superhero comic. A fine study in both contemporary literary/cultural theory and superhero comic books (particularly of the more recent postmodern variety), How to Read Superhero Comics and Why is a romping rant well worth the read.

Rating:
Summary: A must
Review: Living in Portugal, and being, well, 47 years old(!), I remember my first dazled look into superhero comics through portuguese translations in brasilian editions (b/w) by Editora Abril when I was just 10 or 11 years old. I collected some of the titles, nevetheless confined to an offer of major superheros like Superhomem (Superman), Batman, Flash, Atomo (Atom), mainly from DC and later on from Marvel (Capitão América, Quarteto Fantástico (Fantastic Four)). But I had a penchant for the american editions in full colour with the striking Jack Kirby artwork from Marvel, like FF, and Giant Size editions (or republishings), as well as the titles of Spider Man, Daredevil, written by Stan Lee and with artwork from (for instance) John Romita or Gene Colan and others great pencillers (that's why I still own some editions of comics like Spider Man #70, the early Captain Marvel (yes!), DD, FF, Sr. Strange, SSurfer, etc., from circa 1969-1970. But as I grew older I got tyred of american comics and began coleccting european adult and mature readers comics, mainly from french and belgian sources, (much late with the exception of some post-modern new classics such as Watchmen, and Frank Miller's Dark Knight. Recently, however, I went to a comic book shop and bought Mr. Klock's book. I read it and I was absolutely appauled by the variety and deepness of new or renewed characters studied by Klock. I was so impressed that I began buying acomic books, mainly writen by Ennis, Morrison, Bendis, Straczinsky, Millar, Waid, Buziek, Kirkman, etc. And till this day I'm really delighted by the rich contours of the genre. I owe it, totally, to Mr. Klock's book, which can be read as a thesis, but also as entertainment, even if you don't know some of the comics described and studied by the author (you certainly will get the same "re-discovery" fever that I got...!).
Highly recommended -but only if you're willing to spend money on comic books...!

Rating:
Summary: Misprision
Review: No doubt about it; the superhero comic book genre is in a period of fundamental transition. The safe, juvenile realm of the 1940's Superman, the 1960's Spider-Man, or even the angtsy teen drama of Chris Claremont's mid-1980's X-Men have given way to something deeper and far more relevant. No longer is the genre simply about escapism into fanciful tales of Spandex-clad mortals with extraordinary powers who choose to fight for all that is good and just; this new generation of stories lay bare the most primal of Jungian archetypes and allow their readers to examine themselves and their place in the real world.

That was a pretty dramatic-sounding paragraph; allow me to clarify. Geoff Klock is in many ways picking up where Richard Reynolds left off in 1992's Super Heroes: A Modern Mythology, digging to the very roots of the genre (which, he contends, go back considerably further into the past than 1936's Action Comics #1). Klock expands his overview of the superhero genre to the point where he only makes a few passing references to the big-name comic book houses like Marvel, DC, and Dark Horse, and instead devotes most of his time to smaller-name publishers and less well-known independent titles. About the only exceptions to this are his dissections of Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and the standalone superhero series The Watchmen (already covered at length in this reviewer's annotation of the aforementioned Richard Reynolds book). Like Reynolds, Klock cites these titles as pivotal transformations in the history of the genre, but he focuses more on their psychological impact than the stories or characters themselves. He also devotes entire chapters to exploring Kurt Busiek's Astro City, Alex Ross's Marvels, and especially Mark Waid's post-apocalyptic alternate future series Kingdom Come, none of which were previously familiar to this reviewer, and which have proven to be very difficult titles to locate.

It is Klock's contention that superheroes and the study of psychology frequently come into contact with one another; I am put in mind of the palpable sense of outrage among some superhero fan circles in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. Some people honestly asked themselves: Where were Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four to protect their beloved New York City in its time of crisis? Why didn't Superman save those people who jumped off the World Trade Center, and why didn't Green Lantern put out the flames with his power ring? More than a few behavioral psychologists now find themselves in the difficult position of having to sort this out for their distraught patients. No question about it: superheroes are very real to many -sometimes so real that a few devoted readers have difficulty sorting out fact from fantasy.

The superhero-psychology overlap recurs partly because so many of the superhero characters represent more than mere wish-fulfillment in their readers; they represent a personification of one or another heroic archetype that is not fundamentally different from the roles once filled by the "superhero teams" of the Greek, Egyptian, or Nordic gods and their respective supporting casts of mortals and semi-mortals.

Unfortunately some of these elements tend to get lost in Klock's account; by skipping over so many of the fundamentals (and curiously ignoring outright the role of any of the characters from the Marvel Comics' "universe"), he periodically seems to lose sight of the overlying message. Ironically he never does seem to get to the "Why" portion of the book's title. The book is actually a bit of a paradox: while the psychology text gets bogged down in several places and, unlike Reynolds, Klock totally avoids the suggestion that modern-day comic book authors borrow liberally from ancient fables, myths, and legends for their story ideas. Yet at the same time he insists throughout that a new form of literature is evolving, one that is allowing us to explore ourselves and our collective consciousness through its reinforcement of larger-than-life heroic archetypes.

A surprisingly difficult read, all told: too much reliance on psychology and not enough attention paid to plain old-fashioned good storytelling. The author's emphasis on titles which (for the most part) are largely unknown, seems to also suggest that the more widely-consumed titles like Superman and Spider-Man don't help to fulfill the author's intended psychological conclusions (hence my use of the word "misprision" for this review's title, a word which ironically surfaces many times throughout Klock's narrative).

Rating:
Summary: Misprision
Review: No doubt about it; the superhero comic book genre is in a period of fundamental transition. The safe, juvenile realm of the 1940's Superman, the 1960's Spider-Man, or even the angtsy teen drama of Chris Claremont's mid-1980's X-Men have given way to something deeper and far more relevant. No longer is the genre simply about escapism into fanciful tales of Spandex-clad mortals with extraordinary powers who choose to fight for all that is good and just; this new generation of stories lay bare the most primal of Jungian archetypes and allow their readers to examine themselves and their place in the real world.

That was a pretty dramatic-sounding paragraph; allow me to clarify. Geoff Klock is in many ways picking up where Richard Reynolds left off in 1992's Super Heroes: A Modern Mythology, digging to the very roots of the genre (which, he contends, go back considerably further into the past than 1936's Action Comics #1). Klock expands his overview of the superhero genre to the point where he only makes a few passing references to the big-name comic book houses like Marvel, DC, and Dark Horse, and instead devotes most of his time to smaller-name publishers and less well-known independent titles. About the only exceptions to this are his dissections of Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and the standalone superhero series The Watchmen (already covered at length in this reviewer's annotation of the aforementioned Richard Reynolds book). Like Reynolds, Klock cites these titles as pivotal transformations in the history of the genre, but he focuses more on their psychological impact than the stories or characters themselves. He also devotes entire chapters to exploring Kurt Busiek's Astro City, Alex Ross's Marvels, and especially Mark Waid's post-apocalyptic alternate future series Kingdom Come, none of which were previously familiar to this reviewer, and which have proven to be very difficult titles to locate.

It is Klock's contention that superheroes and the study of psychology frequently come into contact with one another; I am put in mind of the palpable sense of outrage among some superhero fan circles in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. Some people honestly asked themselves: Where were Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four to protect their beloved New York City in its time of crisis? Why didn't Superman save those people who jumped off the World Trade Center, and why didn't Green Lantern put out the flames with his power ring? More than a few behavioral psychologists now find themselves in the difficult position of having to sort this out for their distraught patients. No question about it: superheroes are very real to many -sometimes so real that a few devoted readers have difficulty sorting out fact from fantasy.

The superhero-psychology overlap recurs partly because so many of the superhero characters represent more than mere wish-fulfillment in their readers; they represent a personification of one or another heroic archetype that is not fundamentally different from the roles once filled by the "superhero teams" of the Greek, Egyptian, or Nordic gods and their respective supporting casts of mortals and semi-mortals.

Unfortunately some of these elements tend to get lost in Klock's account; by skipping over so many of the fundamentals (and curiously ignoring outright the role of any of the characters from the Marvel Comics' "universe"), he periodically seems to lose sight of the overlying message. Ironically he never does seem to get to the "Why" portion of the book's title. The book is actually a bit of a paradox: while the psychology text gets bogged down in several places and, unlike Reynolds, Klock totally avoids the suggestion that modern-day comic book authors borrow liberally from ancient fables, myths, and legends for their story ideas. Yet at the same time he insists throughout that a new form of literature is evolving, one that is allowing us to explore ourselves and our collective consciousness through its reinforcement of larger-than-life heroic archetypes.

A surprisingly difficult read, all told: too much reliance on psychology and not enough attention paid to plain old-fashioned good storytelling. The author's emphasis on titles which (for the most part) are largely unknown, seems to also suggest that the more widely-consumed titles like Superman and Spider-Man don't help to fulfill the author's intended psychological conclusions (hence my use of the word "misprision" for this review's title, a word which ironically surfaces many times throughout Klock's narrative).