Classics Vs. Symbols
It’s hard, and getting harder, to examine “Watchmen” on its own terms. As if it didn’t already hold such an elevated place within the contemporary world of comics, now they’ve gone and made a big splashy movie of it. “Watchmen” was the superhero story that critiqued the very idea of superheroes—or at least that seemed to be the purpose. Things are turning out a little differently. The cartoonists Seth, whose work and lifestyle glorify all things antique, is not a fan of “Watchmen.” He thinks it’s influenced things in a bad way. In a recent interview, he said:
“I actually think so much of what’s going on right now is Alan Moore’s fault. I suspect he would be the first to admit that it started a bad trend. The Rorschach character, who is supposed to be someone to pity or hate—now he’s cool. That’s the basic problem with ‘Watchmen.’ Even Alan Moore couldn’t keep it from being cool.”
I’m sure he’s right about Moore having mixed feelings about the pedestal his book is currently sitting on. But then, Moore himself is something of a Rorschach. He rants about everything from movies to text messages to America—and yet continues to find his work and himself wrapped up in them. He’s a larger-than-life character who might not be at all likeable, but there’s no denying he’s got talent.
My first-year roommate and I were obsessed with Alan Moore. We’d read stacks of his books at a time, marveling at his consistently excellent writing voice, and the way he knew just how to unfold his stories. During second year, I painted Moore’s face onto the back of my leather jacket, along with the words “The Greatest Living Englishman” (this title for Moore comes from Neil Gaiman).
But how great is “Watchmen”? Is it a classic, or just a very well-told story? I guess, in the end, that part matters less than how it has changed things. Perhaps “Watchmen” has killed the American superhero. Perhaps “Watchmen” has simply made him much darker. I tend to think it’s neither, though; I think he’s exposed the American superhero for what he’s been all along: a symbol. And symbols are useful, as long as you remember that’s all they are.
Not too bad, Athena, but you didn’t quite make the point you followed back to—whatever it was Seth thought Moore was responsible for. And I think it’s a larger point than making Rorschach cool.
The thing with Watchmen is, we can’t really conjure the time again before the book appeared, and it’s influence is pervasive–but whether or not Moore is at fault or whether he just described something that was happening inside the culture, that is the place to take this–because Moore didn’t make this cool on his own. It took all of his readers to help. He just made it the way it is. Moore’s legendary nuttiness may be sincere, it may be a put-on, but it does have the qualities of someone who finds himself popular against his will, and yet unwilling to let go of the pulpit it gives him.
If you look, you can see a way the comic has aged along with the audience it picked up in the 70s and 80s–those children back then are now adults, and they do not want to let go of their capes and heroes or their comics. And their buying power, and the commercial power of the products sold to them that now appeal to a younger audience, that is a lot to do with what you’re describing. I just bought a Wolverine comic, in other words, where he murders a town of villains out of revenge after they kill his wife and children, and it happens in grisly detail. It is not for children, this comic. It is for a someone who’s been buying Wolverine comics since he or she was 6 and is age 16-70. This audience change matters a great deal as we think about what else is happening around Moore and Watchmen, inside the above scenario.
Another way to think of this is, is it possible to understand how influential Watchmen was now that we are surrounded by all that was influenced by it? And does it alter our readings of it now?