|
The general reaction to
Captain America #6, from a quick look around, seems to
have been middling. I disagree. I think the book
is vomitously awful, for the reasons that I shall enumerate.
Regular readers may recall that
back in April, I reviewed issue #2 of this series, and
expressed concerns that the storyline seemed to be barking up
the wrong tree. Now that this terrorism storyline is
completed, I feel comfortable in concluding that the entire
plot is thoroughly loathsome. Before proceeding with a
vitriolic assault on the entire thing, however, I should make
the following disclaimers.
The first issue of this series
came out back at the end of April. This issue should
have been out in September and is now crawling out two and a
half months late. Neither writer John Ney Reiber nor
artist John Cassaday has a particularly poor track record for
punctuality. Cassaday is the artist on the glacially
slow Planetary, but this seems to be largely a problem
in obtaining scripts. It is unclear how the book managed
to end up so very late. It has been suggested to me that
this is circumstantial evidence of a problematic rewrite.
That may be so. I venture no opinion.
Secondly, so dire is this comic,
and so ridiculous are its mock-propaganda covers, that I have
given serious consideration to the possibility that it might
in fact be a deadpan parody of American self-righteousness and
racism. Nobody else seems to read it that way, nor is
there really any evidence to support it besides the
staggeringly low level of insight displayed by the plot and
the utterly absurd covers. Really, it boils down to the
fact that I can't quite believe creators would willingly put
their name to this nonsense and actually mean it. I am
probably just being overly generous by allowing for this
possibility.
Those two points out of the way, and
acknowledging that the art is very nice, I turn to consider
the reasons why I hate this book so very much, and why you
should feel likewise.
Before we look at the political
subtext, let's consider the comic from a purely technical
perspective. If you haven't been reading this series,
then here's the plot: in the first story arc, the evil
terrorist Faysal al-Tariq (whose place of origin is apparently
a mystery, since "Faysal al-Tariq" is such a common name
worldwide) attacked the middle American town of Centerville
and took a load of god-fearing white people hostage. In
defeating al-Tariq, Captain America discovered that the
terrorists had advanced technology which they shouldn't have.
In this storyline, he heads to Dresden, where the tags are
manufactured. There he immediately comes under attack
from al-Tariq.
Cue big showdown this issue, in
which Captain America is all awfully heroic, al-Tariq is
desperately villainous, they argue about politics for a bit,
and our hero wins, while the narrator gives us what is
presumably supposed to be an inspirational speech. "We
can stem the tide of blood. Defend the dream. We,
the people -- we all have the freedom and the power to fight,
for peace."
Isn't that lovely?
A notable problem with this
series is its stunningly awful use of imagery. The
hostages in the first arc were middle Ameicans, so they get to
live in a town called "Centerville." But that's not all.
To distinguish themselves from the (not explicitly stated but
obviously drawn as) Muslim terrorists, the victims are
hijacked IN A CHURCH. Because they're Christians, you
see. God, it's subtle.
This starts to look almost subtle
compared to the scene in issue #4 where our hero rides around
on his motorbike under a series of July 4 firework displays
while assorted American citizens gawp at him and comment about
what a great bloke he is.
In this issue, al-Tariq is drawn
as a man dressed entirely in black with a badly scarred face.
Because he's a villain, you see. Christ, even Dan
Jurgens was subtler than this.
Al-Tariq is a cartoon villain.
Captain America is a one-dimensional hero. And they
fight, because the villain is bad, and wants to hurt people,
but the hero is good. There, in a nutshell, you have the
content of this storyline. Oh, and somewhere in there
Cap abandons his secret identity, but since he never interacts
with the public and has no private life or supporting cast, it
has no dramatic consequences at all, and therefore might as
well not have happened.
What we have here is a
middling-to-dreary storyline from the Dan Jurgens period, only
slowed down to half speed, and passed off as art on the basis
that it's "decompressed storytelling." If this is
decompressed storytelling then it has contracted a nasty case
of the bends. In reality, this is painfully slow
storytelling of a vacuously generic Silver Age plot where a
cartoon villain does something nasty and a nice shiny hero
stops him. When you do such a story slowly, you don't
miraculously turn it into art. You just expose its
innate silliness by asking the audience to take it seriously.
Moreover, you make it really, really dull.
This makes the series mediocre.
What makes it actively appalling?
As is well known, this first arc
was inserted at a late stage in development of the series, as
a response to September 11. I think it can be said
without too much controversy that we already have more than
enough responses to September 11. We only need a new one
if it has something more to say. And yes, this arc does
seem to aspire to political content. It has something to
say about what sort of person becomes a terrorist, and what
sort of values enable America to fight them.
Let's examine what it has to say.
After all, the centrepiece of this issue is supposed to be the
debate between Captain America and al-Tariq. On the
merits of this, everything turns.
Al-Tariq spends much of the issue
droning on about "what made me what I am." The idea
seems to be to give him a generic origin that could apply to
people from any number of countries which have been affected
by US foreign policy, hence his challenge to Captain America
to identify where he's from.
"Guerrillas gunned my father down
while he was at work in the fields - with American bullets,
American weapons. My father didn't know that the Cold
War was at its height. Remember? When the Soviets
were your great enemy? The evil empire? My mother
didn't know that our nation was in the throes of an undeclared
civil war between your allies and the allies of evil -- when
she ran to find her husband. My mother was interrogated
and shot. Our home was burned..."
And so on. Basically he's
an indirect victim of American foreign policy. And so...
he hates America.
Uh-huh. Here's where we go off the
rails. Al-Tariq is portrayed as having no positive
agenda whatsoever. He simply hates America. And
who can blame him, you may say. A valid point being
raised, surely. Well, apparently not, according to
Captain America, but we'll come back to that.
Al-Tariq is presented, quite openly, as
representing terrorism. But the comparison is completely
invalid. Terrorist movements have positive goals.
Even al-Qaeda has a positive agenda - they want the world to
live according to a strict interpretation of Islamic law.
They may well hate the USA, but this is ultimately incidental
to their primary agenda. They attack the USA not because
they hate it but because it is an obstacle to their core
purpose. Whether you agree with their agenda or not is
immaterial - the key to understanding terrorists is that their
attitude is "The end justifies the means." They believe,
rightly or wrongly, that no better option is available to
pursue their agenda and that the moral power of their position
is such as to justify the loss of life involved in terrorism.
By denying al-Tariq any wider agenda than
the mere destruction of American lives for the sake of doing
so, Reiber not only denies him the possibility of putting
forward any coherent explanation for his actions, but
completely invalidates him as any kind of analogy for
terrorism. He is, instead, a boring nihilist, a
comforting vision of unequivocal evil, with an unhappy past
put forward as a token attempt to pretend he is something more
than a cartoon villain.
It is comforting, but intellectually
dishonest, to think of terrorists in this way. It tells
us nothing of value about their motivations, or about the
ethical questions raised - a nation founded on an armed war of
independence has to concede, at least in principle, the
possibility of justified political violence. The issue
is where you draw the line, which in turn leads to the
uncomfortable question of what exactly the USA might have done
that might, just possibly, justify such actions, or at least
lead to them being seen by sane people as justified, however
wrongly.
By continuing to think of terrorists as
pantomime villains, it is possible to avoid thinking about any
of this. This is a story which dodges the issues
entirely, on the pretext of meeting them head-on. It
wheels out a straw man argument, passes it off as the reality
of terrorism, and bleats that it has achieved a balanced
presentation of issues. This annoys me.
But still, what does Captain America have
to offer in response to this caricature of evil? In
Africa, Asia, South America, says al-Tariq, "my people died."
(That's one hell of a lot of people.) "And your
people--" Cap cuts him off here, to deliver the
following jawdropping response.
"My people never knew."
Apparently the US public were completely
ignorant of any civilians being hurt by their foreign policy
during the entirety of the Cold War. This is a
fascinating proposition. It would be interesting to
know, for example, just who comprised the US army that raped
and burned its away across Vietnam, if not American
conscripts. Perhaps on planet Reiber, these atrocities
were committed by a parallel army of bootleg Canadians.
It gets better.
"We've changed. We've learned."
Yup. No civilian casualties in
Afghanistan, or Iraq. God bless America, with its
perfectly accurate smart bombs. In fact, now the Cold
War is over, America doesn't do anything wrong at all!
Isn't life great?
Now, really, this is the bit where it gets
actively offensive. Of course America's track record
isn't perfect - nobody's is. Perfectly rational
arguments could be advanced that America has indeed improved
somewhat, that the country is no worse than many and better
than most when it comes to these things, and that many
civilian casualties were objectively and pragmatically
justifiable for the greater good.
But these are not clear-cut arguments, so
instead we get outright lies. Life is cheap.
Indeed, if it isn't American, life apparently doesn't count at
all. However you died, this comic has an excuse for why
the Americans don't have to accept responsibility for their
actions.
It is the vile, wheedling,
bleating, hypocritical, self-righteous lies and sophistry of
this passage that, for me, topples the book over the edge from
merely bad, dull and pretentious into actively nauseating and
hateful.
For christ's sake, the central argument of
this issue fancies itself as a comparison between the moral
values of Al-Qaeda and the USA. Even without turning Al-Qaeda
into one-dimensional cartoons or airbrushing American history,
it would scarcely be a challenge to bring the USA out on top
in this argument. But the suggestion that the other side
might have a point, or that the USA could be remotely flawed,
is inadmissible in this comic. Repellently, a flimsy
facsimile of a counter-argument is put forward so that it can
be brushed aside, under pretext of showing the opposite side
of the argument. That's your counter-argument, get back
to waving your flags.
I didn't like this sort of
jingoistic drivel when Dan Jurgens did it, but at least he had
no pretensions of high intellectual and artistic achievement.
This book likes to pass itself off as having both when it has
neither. It is a despicable piece of question-dodging,
comfort food dressed up as insight, tired old propaganda
posing as art.
Precisely the last thing the USA
needs.
Rating: D-
back |
continue |