Showing posts with label Spider-Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spider-Man. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Secret Genre Identities

I written before about how genres are built up of conventions and expectations.  But times change and sometimes genres have to adapt to keep up.

The obvious example would be the old cowboy movies that inspired a generation of children to play Cowboys and Indians.  Westerns today acknowledge the cultural complexity and diversity of Native Americans.  Besides, they were here first.

And the role of women, in just about any genre, has changed a good deal since the 1950’s.  And the spy genre is still adapting to the end of the cold war.

But it isn’t always the sledge hammer of political correctness.  Sometimes the changes are a little more subtle.  Sometimes the tropes just get tweaked a little, here and there.  In the current super-hero space, for example, the secret identity has been devalued.  It’s still there – it’s too central to the concept to toss aside, but it’s not the same. 

You rarely see a story these days that centers around a hero’s close friend almost stumbling on the big secret.  Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne no longer pretend to be bumbling idiots just to contrast their super lives.  And where it used to be only one or maybe two at most knew a hero’s identity, now the secret is commonly shared.  Heroes call each other by their personal names.  Clark married Lois.  Heck, even Aunt May knows who Spider-Man is.

There are a number of reasons for the change – we’re not really a culture that values humility and anonymity.  No one gets a promotion by being just another office drone.  And we live in an information age where personal privacy has become something that needs actively defending.  I think the heroes have adapted fairly well, considering such a central genre trope is no longer a good fit for the times and customs.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Power

A lot of today's popular fiction involves power figures. Our adventure stories are full of cops, tough guys, and gunslingers. The fantasy section of the bookstore is full of vampires, werewolves, and witches. The summer movie screens are filled with superheroes and space aliens.

A degree in psychology is not required to understand the appeal. By identifying with powerful figures, we indulge our own power fantasies. If I could fly...

But powerful figures can be tricky to write. Drama requires conflict and greater power requires greater conflict. It's harder to threaten a character who is bulletproof. It's harder to fool a mind-reader. It's just plain difficult to find good challenges when your hero is a god. Finding excuses to make the hero weak (on anything other than a temporary level) only dillutes the power fantasy for the audience.

Power is relative, however. One common solution is to make the antagonist even more powerful. The hero is still strong -- it's just that the villain is even stronger. Then the challenge is for author to find the hero to some believeable way to overcome the more powerful foe.

There is a danger of escalation, espescially in ongoing serial adventures. The villain can't let the trick that worked last time beat him again. As the protagonist develops more tricks and therefore becomes more powerful, it becomes harder to account for what he can do. "Why didn't he do that mind trick he did three episodes ago," departing fans will ask. Or "C'mon, she's already been established as a better fighter than that!"

There is another type of conflict that can be used with powerful characters. There is a drama in considering how power should be used. One of my favorite Star Trek episodes involves a case when the Enterprise was the most powerful ship in the conflict. There was no question of who would win if the phasers started firing. The drama came from the question of how that power would be used and what the potential long-term consequences would be.

Spider-man's origin is a classic example. Spidey is the only one in the story with super-powers at all. But his failure to use them rightly leads to the death of his Uncle Ben and thus drama, conflict.

My current set of published novels involve people who gain magical power that they never asked for and don't know how to use. They have to learn the responsibilities of power. I rather suspect that more of us dream of having power than dream of having the wisdom to use it well.

Powerful characters are fun, no question. But writers should think carefully about how to challenge them.