It Had to be Said #6

Authorial intent is meaningless.

It really doesn't matter what a writer or artist (or editor) intended to say with any given piece of art (or, in our case, comic). What matters is what they actually say, and that is determined by the audience.

Lobo's a good example. He was intended as a satire of the ultra-violent superhero (Wolverine, specifically) but was read by an audience that took him totally seriously, to the point where he written seriously and became that which he was meant to mock.

And going in the reverse direction, All-Star Batman and Robin may be intended to be taken seriously, but is so gloriously over-the-top that many people love it as a parody (perhaps of itself, but a parody nonetheless).

This is complicated by the fact that art does not exist in a vacuum nor is "the audience" a monolithic entity. "The audience" is thousands of individuals with different backgrounds, experiences, and contexts for understanding. So each person interprets a work differently, and the meaning of a piece is fluid across people. Something I read as a celebration of female power, another might read as a dismissal of a woman's worth. And neither of us are necessarily wrong.

And a work's meaning changes over time, too, as new events reshape interpretations. The first issues of Watchmen, for example, were published before the Iran-Contra scandal broke. So while Moore and Gibbons' story of abused, hubristic authority could not have been intended to comment on the (then) current administration's illegal activities, by the twelfth issue it most certainly did! (Especially since the Tower Commission opened their report with "quis custodiet ipsos custodes," i.e. "who watches the watchmen?")

Which is a long way of saying, you can't defend your art by saying "This is what I meant to say" or "I didn't mean to offend anyone". Once your art is out among the public, you are just one more interpreter, and have no more or less authority than anyone else. If someone says your work is offensive, then it IS offensive, at least to them, and you cannot just say they are wrong. All you can do is decide whether or not you care.

Page One...

That's how far into this year's issue of All Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder I got before I found something that When Fangirls Attack will be bitching complaining talking about for the next week or so. (sorry to beg, again, but does someone have a scan? Thank you, Sleestak. May Haley Mills fill all your dreams!)


It's Frank Miller's Wonder Woman, angry at "Man's World," angry at "Man's Dreams", angry at "Man" and yelling at "Sperm Banks" to get out of her way.

And it just does NOT let up! She wants to kill Batman. She wants the Justice League to kill Batman. She wants to take over the world. And she is angry! ANG! REE!

But, SURPRISE! All she really wants is a good humping from Superman!


I mean, WOW!

Frank Miller is either brilliant or insane and I'm not sure I care. It's just so... so so AWFUL that it has gone around to becoming spectacularly entertaining, then terrible again, than ridiculously entertaining again!

It's obviously an enormous practical joke at this point, right? Since the rest of the issue is just Batman running around, thinking about how awesome it is to be, and I quote, "the goddamn Batman," Alfred hitting the gym, and Dick Grayson picking up an axe. And that's it! That's what we've been waiting a full year for! Andy Kaufman, in his prime, couldn't have figured out a more surreal product to unleash on the market.

I get the people who are offended by this book. I understand the people who are amused by it ironically. But is there someone, and I mean anyone, out there who loves this book AND takes it at face value? Is there really a reader who digs on Wonder Woman hating the Patriarchy, Superman blindly following orders, and Batman being a sadistic psychopath?

And is Frank Miller playing to that reader, or pissing in their soup?

And how weird is it that DC releases this absurd collection of adolescent male fantasies on the same day it releases The Plain Janes, their first book specifically aimed at teenage girls? And the same day they release Batman #665, which, with its hard-boiled narration, hookers with hearts of gold, uber-corrupt monster cops, and Andy Kubert's Jim Lee-esque art, reads like a knowing parody of All Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder, like Grant Morrison's trying desperately to out-Miller Miller, which, apparently, he just can't?

Because, let's face it, you cannot out-crazy crazy. You can't reason with it either. You can only try to contain it.

p.s. In the name of total honesty, I didn't actually buy All Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder, I skimmed it in the store. No, I saved my money to buy Satan's $@#%* Baby.

God help me.