I'm not seeing where all this hatred is coming from for Clark's actions. That was a CLASSIC Clark/Superman move; it's just another example of Clark's calculated clumsiness or measured meekness at work for a greater good that doesn't implicate the Clark identity. It's very much in the vein of him 'accidentally' bumping into someone and knocking them out of the way of a runaway 18 wheeler, or leaving Lois behind as he 'runs and hides in a broom closet' only for Superman to come out and save everyone.
This is a natural application of that formula; it's very much in character.
Plus it also allowed him to find out a little more about the cops without making a scene inside the Daily Planet, and thus endangering all his coworkers.
Also making "Clark Kent" look foolish in front of Lois Lane, which is a standby within the mythology. Worked well, for me.
There's a number of creators who don't use narrative captions; Tom King is probably the most vehemently against them (he's used them in one comic that I can recall, and that was specifically to poke fun at them).
But I don't really understand this distaste, and your citation of Morrison doesn't help to clarify; he's always been a proponent not just of narrative captions, but narrative captions that morph and change origin and point of view. Without looking I can say for sure that he employed them frequently in his Batman run, and that he's doing so in his current creator owned book Nameless. Pak himself was adamantly against them when he first started in comics, and you only need to read his early work to see that. Coming from a film background, that's typical; it's very much seen as lazy and cheesy. But he ultimately came around to their utility in THIS medium, and I agree.
They aren't appropriate in every case, but they are very often exegetical, personal, and poetic. It's a tool in the toolbox, is what I'm saying, and it seems odd to throw it out with such finality.
Have you read Alan Moore's Swamp Thing? How much poorer would that series have been without such lush prose? Neil Gaiman's ponderous, reflective Sandman flitted through storytelling technique like an imp, and I'd have hated for him to have been shackled by some arbitrary prohibition against a technique which proved so useful. Even in Pak's own Action, there's a powerful moment where Superman thinks to himself, "You can't save everyone. But you have to try, don't you?" played against wonderful action, and everything sings and harmonizes beautifully. Again, it would seem a shame to lose that.
Last edited by Deniz Camp; 06-25-2015 at 09:54 PM.
Yeah, I've never understood the hate for it either. When used well its a nice window into the head of the characters. It certainly can be overdone, but that's the case with every narrative tool. Some writers use them well, some writers do well without them. I enjoyed and appreciated Yang's style just as much as I do Pak's in Action. I'm glad they don't both read the same and have their own voice.
"They can be a great people Kal-El, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you. My only son." - Jor-El
I feel like 90% of DC/Marvel books use captions to write tedious, overwritten exposition dumps and bad attempts at prose/poetry, so I sort of get the hate, even if I agree that there are plenty of writers who know how to use the.
Anyway this was pretty good, but I'm going to stick to my trade waiting practices for the rest of the arc.
If a writer is prone to expository dumps than he's going to take them, using whatever metaphorical toilet available. If it's not captions, then it will be characters spouting off unrealistic dialogue. You really can't blame narrative captions for that.
And 'bad' poetry/prose is a risk of anything; I could level the same claim about dialogue. Too much bad dialogue! We should get rid of it!
But that would seem ridiculous. Because it is.
Yeah. In Boxers and Saints, Yang surprised me with his style. It's bizarre: apparently very simple, but complex at the same time.
By the way, he is elegant even when making references: it turns out that Norvell is an old character, from Superman #01 (1939)!!!
https://twitter.com/geneluenyang/sta...366400/photo/1
Basically, the opposite of Johns: whenever Johns makes references, they are like a slap in the face.
Yeah. Personally speaking, the fact that several reviewers don't seem to understand Clark's planned charade in rescuing the girl irritates me a lot.
On newsarama, Chris Arrant gave 3/10 to the issue apparently because he didn't even see the panel where Clark plans the rescue with Jimmy in advance.
http://www.newsarama.com/24929-best-...in-6-more.html
And by the way, I wonder what kind of plot development would have made certain readers happier. Maybe Clark saying: "This girl stays here no matter what, I'll protect her with my life"? Without the final twist, Supes in a ninja costume, the apparent act of cowardice, and Lois who appears even more clever than Clark? Sometimes I think that if readers wrote comics, comics would be even more boring than they already are.
Maybe I didn't express myself clearly enough: I think that Chris Arrant gave 3/10 to the issue because he didn't see the panel where Clark asks Jimmy for a favor (before meeting with the girl). Basically, the foreshadowing of the charade.
Now that I think about it, the issue would have worked even without that panel though. The fact that Jimmy is waiting for Clark in his car clearly implies that they already planned what to do.
By the way, didn't anyone notice that in order to rescue the girl Clark is even willing to risk his own secret identity with her?
I mean, when he goes all ninja with the bad guys and then reveals his face to the girl while they are in the car.
The more I read the issue, the more I find interesting details.
Right, there's a simplicity to writing that brings to mind a children's tale, but a complexity to the emotions and conflicts that builds and builds. The impact is fascinating, actually; it's an engagement that sneaks up on you. The modern era of comics has embraced what is most often characterized as widescreen, and which I'd sub categorize as 'momentism'. Either way, a great importance is put on shock and the landing of beats. With Yang's writing there's a kind of steady, ponderous rhythm that brings you along until something really shocking happens; no manufactured drama or emotion.
It's there in Boxers and Saints, and also American Born Chinese. Both of those have a deceptively simple structure and execution, but are actually doing VERY clever things. The outward simplicity lulls you into a false sense of security, such that the twists and tricks and challenging content genuinely surprise. Reading "Saints" casts "Boxers" in a new light, for instance, in a lot of different ways. And "American Born Chinese" concerned three narratives that seemingly have only a tenuous, allegorical connection -- but which are actually all one story. It genuinely didn't occur to me that 2/3rds of that book was meant to be taken literal and then, boom, the twist comes and it seems obvious in hindsight.
Again, nothing flashy but really thoughtful.
I think you were clear. and I think Flash is just saying that a reviewer should be paying attention to details, that a writer shouldn't have to explicitly show everything for a readership to pick up on it.
Even without that detail, I think it could work. Look, these characters and these stories are screens upon which we project ourselves. I'd have said, regardless, that Clark/Superman planned it from the beginning. Perhaps someone else finds the notion that Superman made a moral error and changed his mind last minute more compelling.Now that I think about it, the issue would have worked even without that panel though. The fact that Jimmy is waiting for Clark in his car clearly implies that they already planned what to do.
Are we really so obstinate, so demanding, that we refuse to allow ambiguity into our fiction? Because, to me, that's the MARK of good fiction. Good fiction builds a bridge between the creators and the readers so that the result is, at least a little bit, a creation of the audience. These mutating narratives are precisely those that survive past the context in which they were created. This flexibility allows specificity, while the core themes of the narrative (should) aspire to universality.