Opening the Black Casebook

Okay, so it’s no big secret that I greatly admire Grant Morrison as a creator. Perhaps the thing I admire most about him is his ability to synthesize stories from disparate or unusual elements, or otherwise his ability to approach storytelling from a unique perspective. Often, and certainly earlier in his career, Morrison tended toward the cultural fringe, and may or may not have exaggerated his personal connections to that element in order to promote his work. Starting in 1996 with the first issues of JLA, he began to tend toward the mainstream, as symbolized by his willingness to write mainstream superhero stories, though certainly from a continuing Morrisonian bent.

His ongoing Batman saga dates back to a request he received in 1995 to work on the Dark Knight, but Morrison didn’t actually begin until a decade later. He didn’t want to do the kind of material that other creators were doing, but rather approach the franchise from a fresh perspective, one that took in the entirety of Batman’s legacy, the disparate eras and characterizations that sometimes seemed to contradict not only each other but the general understanding of what Bruce Wayne had become following the deaths of his parents and his vow of vengeance on the criminal element. What intrigued Morrison most was embracing the most improbable elements, and this he took to mean material that was created during the 1950s and ’60s. He envisioned a rationale that would make this scenario work, the general grind of crime-fighting in the midst of villains with outrageous toxins at their disposal, and thus began his epic saga of Doctor Hurt, the Black Glove, and the Black Casebook.

This is one of the advantages of the DC approach as compared to Marvel’s, which has attempted to reconcile the same continuity decade after decade, while DC has periodically reinvented itself (such as the recent “New 52,” but stretching all the way back to the Silver Age, when the Justice Society was separated from the ongoing careers of Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, whose origins kept shifting forward while their contemporaries eventually became their predecessors, and even a completely separate reality). (Some writers such as Allan Heinberg, who is admittedly an outsider as it is, break the Marvel rules with such concepts as the Young Avengers.) Where some will see obvious distinctions and styles, others like Morrison will see opportunities to exploit and interpret in new and interesting ways. (A character like the Joker, for instance, has been portrayed so many ways, he is sometimes described as literally reinventing himself, behavior that certainly suits him.)

BATMAN: THE BLACK CASEBOOK is a collection of stories Morrison helped formulate, most of which consist of ideas and characters he brought back during “Batman R.I.P.” and earlier adventures, and a few merely representative oddities. It is meant to give an authoritative and definitive archive to the origins of Morrison’s tales. Of course, it is also a reprint volume of old material. In that regard, it’s doubtful many modern readers will care much for its contents. As a window into Morrison’s mind, it’s at least worth investigating.

There are three key ancestor creators included, the most important of them being Bill Finger, who succeeded Batman creator Bob Kane as the character’s driving force (he was the original writer, it might be noted, and so shares a certain amount of credit with the artist Kane). The others are France Herron and Edmond Hamilton. I’ll talk about their individual contributions shortly. As a whole, they are more important, at least once Morrison brought their ideas together, than modern readers can truly appreciate. Sometimes it’s a little difficult to remember that comic book creators from decades past didn’t just create memorable characters or support a fledgling medium, but had stories that are actually worth remembering, too. That’s the crux of what Morrison realized, that writing comics isn’t just about coming up with ideas but borrowing from someone else’s legacy (which is much what writing in any medium is about).

1951’s BATMAN #65 saw Bill Finger introduce the concept of Grant Morrison’s Batman Incorporated. Clearly, he already had Robin at this point, so even the Boy Wonder was startled by the events that unfold, his sidelining and apparent replacement by Wingman, whom Batman is actually training to serve as a surrogate in Europe. The fact that Wingman was lost to time until Morrison started looking outside of Gotham City, as few writers had before him, for inspiration about how to expand Batman’s legacy doesn’t lessen the impact of Finger’s idea. What was a random story in 1951 became a part of a deliberate continuity in someone else’s hands. Finger himself inadvertently adds to that legacy in 1956’s DETECTIVE COMICS #235, in which Bruce Wayne reopens the murder investigation of his parents when he learns that his father once dawned a Batman costume (an anecdote I first read in Len Wein, Jim Aparo, and John Byrne’s forgotten UNTOLD LEGEND OF BATMAN, originally published in 1982). Next come 1957’s DETECTIVE COMICS #247 and BATMAN #112, in which Batman battles the psychological attacks of Professor Milo, clearly anticipating Morrison’s Dr. Hurt, but not as much as BATMAN #156 FROM 1963, in which Batman actually suffers from delusions he must shake off (an echo of Morrison’s complete saga to date, from “R.I.P.” to FINAL CRISIS to THE RETURN OF BRUCE WAYNE, in which he suffers a mental assault or two and a dramatic journey that finally snaps him out of it). Of course, Finger also introduces Bat-Mite in 1959’s DETECTIVE COMICS #267, as well as the random “Rainbow Creature” story from 1960’s BATMAN #134.

France Herron has two key inclusions, one being the predecessor to Morrison’s Man-of-Bats in 1954’s BATMAN #86 and, more importantly, the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh in 1958’s BATMAN #113, basically uniting two of the three key elements that Morrison would later combine (other Batmen, psychological tests, and strange cases). Building on what Finger had done three years earlier, Herron introduces a Native American ally for Batman (later eras would find it easier to use existing characters from other properties, hence such associations as the Justice League and the Outsiders) and then a completely alien one, both of whom were inspired by the Dark Knight’s exploits. Batman himself finds his experiences on the alien world of Zur-En-Arrh almost unbelievable, and requires a token to ground his memories. Ironically, Morrison would later use Zur-En-Arrh as a kind of grounding element for Batman’s mind, not to mention borrowing the counterpart’s whole costume (which, if you knew none of this, you would have assumed was Batman simply creating a makeshift costume from rags, as indeed it looks in the updated appearance during “R.I.P.”), and “Zur-En-Arrh” as simply a nonsense phrase he concocted from some religious experience in his past.

Finally, there’s Edmond Hamilton. He does more than Finger or Herron could have by adopting wholesale the concept of other Batmen, beginning in 1955’s DETECTIVE COMICS 215, introducing Knight & Squire (whom Morrison would later update during his JLA tenure, adding them to the Ultramarine Corps) as well as Musketeer, Legionary, Gaucho, and Ranger, all of whom represent a given country. He brings most of them back in 1957’s WORLD’S FINEST #89 (which ironically features Superman adopting a second heroic identity while he’s processing his own identity crisis), which formally introduces the Club of Heroes, as well as John Mayhew. Whether inspired by Finger and Herron or not, Hamilton is clearly the biggest source of eventual inspiration for Morrison. Had he consulted with his contemporaries, Hamilton might have started the game earlier, if stories were written like that back then. (The reason I’m so keen to support BATWING from the “New 52” is that it takes the full weight of Batman, Inc. off of Morrison’s shoulders for the first time.)

The last issue in the collection is 1964’s uncredited BATMAN #162, another random tale that at least makes a reference to Batman’s permanent files, whether or not it’s directly related to Morrison’s overarching concept of the black casebook itself (could just be an irony), and happens to feature Batwoman, another part of the continuing Batman legacy.

A lot of “R.I.P.” was an echo of “Knightfall,” the famous trial Bane (soon to be seen in Christopher Nolan’s DARK KNIGHT RISES) put Batman through only a few years before Grant Morrison first began crafting his epic, so in the sense that the Dark Knight was put through a psychological trial was not in itself completely new, far from it, considering Batman’s co-creator was telling such stories half a century earlier. What sets Morrison apart is his willingness to take even the silly elements seriously, with a character many modern readers will only take seriously if the character himself is taken seriously (the continuing legacy of Adam West’s campy TV version), recognizing that Batman represents a considerable suspension of disbelief already. Assumed to be a great detective, a great athlete, a great hero, and a great inspiration, he has endured countless interpretations since his creation in 1939. Finger, Herron, and Hamilton all recognized that his legacy even in his fictional world would be great, and that the challenge to defeat him would be ever-present. Morrison simply brought all these elements together in a credible way.

THE BLACK CASEBOOK isn’t just a souvenir from “R.I.P.” but a testament to that enduring legacy. You don’t need to know that Grant Morrison borrowed many of the elements featured in its tales to enjoy them; rather, you can enjoy the fact that many writers have been greatly inspired by Batman over the years, and some of them have had certain common inspirations. Morrison is just the latest. A lot of readers tend to be intimidated by his work, so if anything, BLACK CASEBOOK is his own way of deflating some of that aura, by acknowledging that his Batman stories came from his predecessors, that all he did was bring all of it together.