Reading Comics #118 "Mark Waid is turning into Alan Moore"

Mark Waid is turning into Alan Moore.

Now, let me clarify that statement, as it could very easily be misconstrued.  What I mean is, the crotchety, compromised creator who was great back in his day, but is fast becoming known for material that does not reach those heights.

Moore, as you may well be aware, made his mark on such titles as Saga of the Swamp Thing, Miracleman, V for Vendetta, Batman: The Killing Joke, Watchmen, From Hell.  He is justly considered one of the most seminal comic book writers ever, the leader of the '80s British Invasion and an icon who has become his own cult within the fan community.  Some fans will only take his work seriously.

Waid made his mark on The Flash and Kingdom Come.  Both are among my all-time favorite comics.  His character work was among the essential storytelling of the '90s and its earliest vanguard.

And yet, what've they done for me lately?

Moore famously broke away from mainstream comics.  He started out by working for Image rather DC or Marvel, writing Supreme, which led to his America's Best Comics line, where his Tom Strong was more or less a continuation of those stories and as such his Superman in all but name.  His most recent signature work is the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen cycle.

Waid's transition has led him in a number of directions.  He has recently taken to staking his claim in Daredevil.

And that's what I really want to talk about today.  I've fired up sparks at several points around the Internet in recent months, and one of them was when I argued that Waid's Daredevil work was far inferior to what he's accomplished previously.  I made these remarks without having read the actual Daredevil material.  How can I be so presumptuous?  Because everything I've read about them has led to the same conclusion, that Waid is no longer interested in building or even reconstructing or deconstructing.  Now he's just messing around, and basically plain old destructing.

His Daredevil is a pointed departure from the Daredevil that emerged in the wake of Frank Miller's '80s work with the character.  Miller's Daredevil was basically a surrogate Batman for him, which was made all the more obvious when Miller famously and very successfully wrote Batman himself (Year One, The Dark Knight Returns).  Because Daredevil was relatively obscure, he could do whatever he wanted with the character.  So Miller turned the blind Matt Murdock into the most hapless character Marvel ever published.  And Marvel specializes in hapless characters.  So you know how epic it got, even if you personally have no idea what Miller actually did.  (Chances are you do.  Fans tend to forget that the 2003 movie was more or less a faithful adaptation of the Miller stories.  Since Ben Affleck was unpopular at that time, people tend to think the movie wasn't any good.  It was.  It remains one of the best superhero movies ever made.)

But Waid remembers a time when Daredevil's adventures weren't so grim.  So that's some of what he brought to his version.  But he's also emphasized Matt Murdock's inherent handicap.  And when I say emphasized, I mean emphasized.  I mean beat it over the head with a giant red billy club.  I mean make a caricature of it by making everything about the poor guy's life a reflection of his disadvantage.

Did I mention Matt Murdock is blind?  Blind superhero?  And because it's Marvel, he wasn't simply born blind, but had a freak accident involving weird chemicals.  So his enhanced senses, the ones any blind person develops to compensate, are the result of those chemicals.  So even though he's blind, he can still more or less see.

So he's not really blind at all.  (I loved how the movie depicted it, by the way, despite these reservations, which to the attuned ear certainly sound like mockery.  I love the echo patterns he sees.  Good stuff.)  But he's the blind superhero.  He's got a disability.  And so Waid's idea is to turn everything around him into a reflection of that.  The more I read about Waid's Daredevil, the more disturbed I am by it.

Not that it's purposefully offensive.  But it can certainly be interpreted that way.  And that's the way I view it.

(View.  Heh.)

To me, it's a direct reflection of how Waid approaches all his Marvel stories.  He's been there before.  In the '90s part of the reason people got upset about the Heroes Reborn arc is that it interrupted some of his material there.  But I still have no idea what made that stuff so special.  As far as I can tell, it was similar to what other creators had done with Steve Rogers, for example.  Just Waid going through the paces.  Not really thinking things through.

This might be fine for other creators.  For Mark Waid, this is a sin.  Because his best work is Mark Waid thinking everything through.  That's how he turned The Flash into an actual important character, not just someone whose sales were so bad in the '80s that DC allowed his series to run a single storyline for years not because it was feeling innovative but because it really didn't care about it, why the character could be killed off in Crisis on Infinite Earths not to create an iconic moment but because, who cared?  The Flash was the signature character of the Silver Age.  And that's what happened to him.  And then Waid came around and made him an icon, a mythology, a franchise.

I have to explain more about Waid than Moore because most comics fans will know plenty about what Moore accomplished.

But the results are the same.  Both were creators who started out as fans.  It becomes so obvious.  Waid even did his own Miracleman with Irredeemable.  It was their heavy fan perspectives that gave rise to their best work.  And also to the career course corrections that led them away from it.

I'd say both could use a little more perspective in their work.  Which is ridiculous to say, because both Moore and Waid at their best defined comic book perspective.  But I think both of them have lost it.

And perhaps the reason is because neither has ever really actively tried to add to the comic book lore they loved so much.  They certainly defined huge portions of it.  But the closest either came to actively contributing to it was the Green Lantern planet Mogo and Bart Allen.  Everything else was a refinement, an observation.  Those make for good stories.  But later creators, such as themselves, won't really work on that so much as from that.  There's a crucial difference.  They set new benchmarks, but benchmarks are like records.  They're a line that becomes erased.

And so it amuses me when fans make a demigod out of Alan Moore, when he stopped being the vital creator worthy of that distinction decades ago.  He further exposes his limitations and hypocrisies all the time.  (LXG is exactly what you don't like to see people doing with your own stories, Alan; the only difference is that you pilfer from people who are dead; do you donate your profits, or a portion of them, to the descendants of those dead creators?  If not, then shut the hell up already, and stop destroying your legacy with your crotchety old man act.)

Waid's active supporters are exactly the same.  His legacy is not nearly as large as Moore's, but the unquestioning nature, the undemanding level of support, he enjoys, is exactly the same.  He hasn't grown a beard.  His stories haven't been adapted into numerous theatrical releases.  But his approach has become the same.  He's shitting all over his legacy.  And his admirers don't seem to notice, or care.

The part about the best work being eclipsed by others, the line shifting to embrace the best work of others who are still interested in doing their best work, I've seen it encroaching on Moore's territory for years.  His best work is very good.  It deserves its reputation.  But that reputation will diminish over time.  And that's why you don't rest on your laurels.  You may be good enough, in your own eyes, but you should never consider your own work as anything less than your own best challenge.  You're only as good as the next challenge you've tackled.

And I don't think Moore or Waid have been tackling challenges lately.  I think they've been doing much less than that.  In Waid's case, I'm actively shocked at his recent output.  So I'm going to cry foul.

Do better.  There's still plenty of time to accomplish the only aspect worth its reputation in your chosen careers.  Not what the fans say.  But what you're able to accomplish.  What you dare to dream.  Quit making excuses.  Quit doing material that's beneath you.  Or you'll find that people will agree with what you've apparently admitted.  That creatively, you're all but finished already.