So I’ve been reading Charles Soule and Javier Pulido’s new She-Hulk title, and really enjoying it. But it got me thinking about comics and genre a bit, and puzzling over the question that makes up the title of this post: Is this comic a superhero/superheroine comic? I think it isn’t (and, further, that is a good thing!)
Some background: The new She-Hulk series focuses on Jennifer Walters/She-Hulk’s legal career. Of course, some superheroing does occur (it has to – the She-Hulk is an Avenger, after all!). But even when it does, it is in service to aspects of the plot directly tied to the She-Hulk lawyering activities (for example, she is attacked by automated robots when attempting to contact Tony Stark regarding a case) or social activities (at the end of a night out, Patsy Walker/Hellcat convinces the She-Hulk to cheer her up by helping her raid a Hydra facility). In short, the comic is about a superheroine. But it doesn’t seem to be about the fact that she is a superheroine.
Now, the term superhero comic is a genre term – it refers to a type of comic that contrasts with war comics, romance comics, crime comics, funny animal comics, etc. Although I don’t want to tie discussion to any single theoretical account of genre, it seems clear that particular works of art get grouped together into a single genre based on having certain, aesthetically and narratively relevant, characteristics in common – these might include setting, theme, plot, style, etc. Further, once a genre exists, other works (both within and outside the genre) can be fairly interpreted not only in terms of their inherent characteristics, but also in terms of how those characteristics relate to the characteristics standardly associated with the genre in question. As a result, not every comic with a superhero or superheroine in it is necessarily a superhero comic in the relevant sense (just as not every story with a cowboy in it is a western). And given this understanding, the new She-Hulk series just doesn’t seem to be a superhero comic: it lacks too many of the standard characteristics associated with the genre (even the John Byrne and Dan Slott runs with the character, for all their metafictional weirdness and their development of the working lawyer side of the character, still revolved primarily around the standard sort of hero-versus-villain superhero plot). Of course, given the presence of a superheroine as protagonist, proper interpretation of the comic will likely benefit from comparison, and contrast, with more run-of-the-mill superhero comics, but that doesn’t mean that it is one.
All of this points to a rather illuminating observation regarding the comics industry. Until the rise of a number of upstarts in recent years, DC and Marvel jointly had a near-monopoly on recognizable superheroes (and between the two of them still own the majority of this particular narrative resource). As a result, however, they seem to have concluded that, since they had a lot of superheroes in their stable, they should only make superhero comics. It is not only that they don’t publish very many comics that don’t feature superheroes. In addition, for the most part they have failed to publish any comics that feature superheroes/ heroines in anything but the generically-bound sort of stories we are used to seeing superheroes/ heroines appear in. This might not seem all that weird or short-sighted at first glance, but imagine a similar (imaginary) scenario in film: MGM signs Charles Bronson, Clint Eastwood, James Garner, and John Wayne to exclusive, long-term deals, and then decides that it had better make westerns, and only westerns, from then on.
As a result, the new She-Hulk series is notable for two reasons. The first is that it is, if the first two issues are any indication, one of the coolest comics being published today (of course, people that know me know it is likely that I would say that about anything with Shulkie in it, so take with a liberal dose of salt if necessary). More importantly in the long run, perhaps, is that the new She-Hulk might signal Marvel’s willingness to explore different sorts of stories, and different sorts of genres, with their characters. If we are lucky, then maybe we will get all sorts of new stories, utilizing new perspectives, that explore all sorts of aspects of our favorite superheroes, superheroines, supervillains, and supervillainesses, and not just their ability to beat each other up or get all angsty about how hard it is to beat each other up. While battling-super-people stories are great (it is what got me into these comics in the first place), stretching a bit in this manner would be welcome too.
But maybe I am wrong, and the difference between this comic and previous mainstream superhero stories isn’t as vast as I think. So, is the She-Hulk a superhero comic?
So, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m quite persuaded by Jason Mittell’s argument that genre is not formally defined, but is instead a social, negotiated category, established by both institutions, consumers, and casual passers-by. So, from that perspective, I would say that most people tend to see She-Hulk as a superhero comic, probably mostly because it features a recognizable superhero (one of the most recognizable, given the links to Hulk.) Given that, I would say it’s definitely a superhero comic, though it can be interesting to talk about how it plays with genre.
There’s actually a pretty long tradition of humor titles which treat superhero tropes as a kind of humorous accession to other sorts of stories. Ambush Bug, Mazing Man, Tiny Titans, are three that come to mind immediately. You could add parodies like Superduperman and Cerebus, probably. I think it’s part of the fact that parody is/has long been so central to the superhero genre, virtually from its creation.
I haven’t read it, but I’m fairly confident that She Hulk is a superhero comic. You even state “superheroing does occur”.
I think the concept of “mixed genre” entertainment is useful.
In Demanding Respect: The Evolution of the American Comic Book Paul Lopes writes “More evidence of the recombinant culture generating the development of comic books was the mixed-genre comic book… exploiting the booming female readership in comic books by linking other genres to the romance. But publishers also tried western- crime, science fiction- western, crime- horror- and even funny animal- science fiction.”
Didn’t Dan Slott’s She Hulk also focus on the lawyer stuff, a least initially? Is this new version doing anything the earlier volume didn’t do?
I too am loving the new She-Hulk, but like Roy, I am a sucker for all things Shulkie.
I think Pallas is right about the usefulness of “mixed genre” here – since it seems kind of silly to me argue this is not a superhero comic. But I do think there are other current Marvel comics that limn the categories of genre – for example, the excellent Superior Foes of Spider-Man (not featuring Spider-Man at all), which is a super-villain crime/caper type book with a healthy dose of humor.
Pallas is also right that Slott’s version was mostly focused on her lawyering – the difference with this new series it seems (so far at least), is that in that old series she had the resources of a large and successful law firm and in this one she has put out her own shingle – oh and that the Slott run ended around 7 years ago and people’s memories are short.
It seems like Marvel is being more proactive these days in creating different types of comics. Every “interesting” new superhero comic I see from the Big 2 seems to be a Marvel, while DC wallows around in the supposedly “new” 52. I admit that I haven’t really been reading any of these (though I did try the first issue of Ms. Marvel), but I’m kind of inclined to give a few a shot.
On a somewhat tangential note, in an industry that celebrates gaudy, mediocre art, I’m pretty surprised that people are hating on the art of the new She-Hulk book (unfavourable comparisons to Mike Allred are not uncommon). Personally, the art doesn’t exactly ‘wow’ me, but I’m baffled that something so seemingly inoffensive could inspire such negative reaction from some corners. I’m waiting to see how this run pans out, but I’d imagine its commercial reception and audience engagement is handicapped by its confinement to the superhero comic book ghetto.
I was surprised at the art criticism, too – since Pulido is one my current faves and I love the art.
Noah: While I certainly agree that genres are socially constructed and the product of producer/consumer negotiation, I don’t think that the mere fact that people will typically categorize She-Hulk as a superhero comic makes them right. The sorts of construction and negotiation that go into the formation of a genre are complex and span a long period of time, and as a result individual judgements (even if shared by the majority of the community) with regard to genre-membership can still be mistaken if, for example, they go against the history of construction and negotiation relevant to the category (e.g. if everyone claimed that The Magnificent Seven was film noir, but nothing else changed, then everyone would be wrong, regardless of the fact that the western and film noir genres are socially constructed).
That being said, I do think the notion of mixed genre is useful here. But I also think that there is something uncommon about this comic. We shouldn’t overestimate either the number or the impact of genre-stretching comics like Ambush Bug and Superior Foes of Spider-Man – while these do exist they are still very much the exception, and typically have small, niche readerships. DC created a whole different imprint in the late 80s when it decided it wanted to reach out to a larger audience by experimenting with comics that didn’t fit the superhero genre mold.
Finally, to Pallas and Osvaldo: I agree that Slott’s run on the earlier title also emphasized the lawyering aspect of the She-Hulk. But (judging based on only two issues, to be fair) there does seem to be a difference between Slott’s stories and the new series. In Slott’s stories the focus seemed to be on (amongst other things) the interactions, tensions, and conflict between She-Hulk’s dual roles as superhero and as lawyer. In short, the comic was about the fact that she was both. In the new series, however, the superheroing almost seems like an afterthought – it seems like a comic primarily about her career as a lawyer, with a little superheroing thrown in just to fit with previous continuity (i.e. the fact that she is, in addition, a superheroine).
Oh, and I also love the art.
“it lacks too many of the standard characteristics associated with the genre”
Which would be…?
“I don’t think that the mere fact that people will typically categorize She-Hulk as a superhero comic makes them right.”
Mittell would disagree with you, I think. If everyone said the Magnificent Seven was film noir, then that would mean that the meaning of film noir as a genre had changed, not that the folks implementing the change were wrong.
What Noah said. :)
Hey…Charles agrees with me!
John Rieder talks about this too; he points out that Frankenstein is seen as sci-fi now (more or less), but certainly wouldn’t have been at the time. You could say the same about Pride and Prejudice and romance genre, I think. Genre markers change quite a bit over time.
Hey, I want to agree with Noah too!
I think it’s important to remember that once we decide to kick formalism out of genre, the question of what makes something belong to Genre X or Y becomes much less amenable to evidence and argument (much less statements of right and wrong). It feels like freedom — genre is fluid! genre is negotiable! — but as a matter of addressing how most of us talk about most of these books most of the time, it’s not. Indeed, as Noah points out, it can be far more restrictive: A story with a superhero in it, no matter its narrative focus, is probably going to get categorized as a superhero book.
Regarding the art: well… it seems to fall in with much of the doughy-looking, wide-eyed Allred-style art out there, but I’m not seeing the appeal yet.
I don’t think the new She-Hulk comic pushes boundaries that much at all. Not much need to resort to Jason Mittell at present I think.
Just try to imagine the first 3 issues without the superhero aspects – the super powers, the link with recognizable figures/villains in the Marvel Universe, the mutant/superhero problems in the real world etc.. Would it still work or be funny? My feeling is, not remotely. The comic is *almost entirely* about having super powers and having super friends. It’s basically trying to do a Fraction-Hawkeye and playing with the environment a bit.
If you stripped the superhero related stuff out of the comic, it would be a pretty boring comic. I would say, probably the worst lawyer drama I’ve ever seen (which is saying something). Yes, even worse than the dreaded John Grisham…
At the moment, the comic is at about the level of a passable TV procedural. A meh episode of Lost Girl perhaps? I should add that I wish most superhero comics even reached this level of competence.
” It feels like freedom — genre is fluid! genre is negotiable! — but as a matter of addressing how most of us talk about most of these books most of the time, it’s not.”
Yeah; Mittell’s approach is actually to argue that non-experts have as much say in a genre as experts. Which sort of ends up meaning that all those superhero films, for example, are arguably comics. I’ve had multiple people when I say, “nobody cares about superhero comics,” respond, “what about all those films!” To which I say, well, those aren’t comics…but from Mittell’s perspective, if everybody has now decided that superhero films are comics….
I’m reticent to get into genre definition games, but it seems to me that there’s more going on than merely what we decide to call a Western or superhero story; the objects have a say. If the relevant social group suddenly started calling Westerns “Film Noirs,” then what we used to call Film Noirs are no longer Film Noirs. This is just playing with words, not actually altering any recognizable qualities or features that are being grouped under a genre label. So, for example, on alternate Earth X, we can still translate their term Film Noir as our term Western without much of hitch. Or, if on Earth X, they grouped all pictures we call Film Noir and Western together, then we can fairly easily divide their category into something a bit more specific, using our genre categories. There will, of course, be overlap, the categories are porous, because we can’t completely agree on all the features belonging to a genre and objects of analysis change over time, so we get something like Anthony Mann’s Western Noirs. I’m just saying it’s not purely arbitrary based on mankind’s substitute-social-construction-for-god’s fiat. The objects do guide us, even when they’re manmade.
Charles, I think that’s fair — though the point is that how they guide us is really up for grabs. Genre markers do change, and it’s not “wrong” to say that Frankenstein is sci-fi anymore than its exactly “wrong” to say that superhero films are comics, though the content of the objects in question are part of why those demarcations exist (and why other folks might object to them.)
“I’ve had multiple people when I say, “nobody cares about superhero comics,” respond, “what about all those films!” To which I say, well, those aren’t comics”… but they say “what about those films!” to say that if nobody cared about comics they wouldn’t go to or care about the films…not to say that the films ARE comics.
Noah, will there ever be a day when Moby Dick resembles those things we now call Westerns more than Frankenstein resembles what we now call SF? But there’s a whole problem with what makes up similarity. Everything is similar to everything else in some way. But, then again, not everything is relevantly similar to the same degree.
Eric, it’s not actually clear what the argument is. I think there’s elements of both.
Charles, I’d argue that genres are about assigning what similarities are relevant. So could there come a time when Moby Dick’s relation to the Western seems more relevant than Frankenstein’s relationship to sci-fi? Who knows? It doesn’t seem super likely right now, but as someone said, time will take you on.
”As a result, however, they seem to have concluded that, since they had a lot of superheroes in their stable, they should only make superhero comics.”
I’m not so sure about this statement. Since the seventies both Marvel and DC tried create comics that had superheroes in them but which place less emphasis on the aesthetics of the superhero genre, its tropes or both. Either because the creators involved were much more interested in other genres or the companies were trying to mine a trend from some other media. This is how comics like Nick Fury Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Manhunter, Tomb of Dracula, Swamp Thing, Master of King Fu, Deathlock, the space opera arcs of Claremont’s X-Men, The Fourth World, Miller’s Daredevil, Simonson’s Thor, Suicide Squad, the original Hawkworld miniseries, Sleeper, Brubaker’s Captain America, Bendis’ Daredevil, and so on, came to be. I’m not saying that all of them escaped the superhero genre but I do think they were pushing against its conventions, importing elements from horror, science fiction, fantasy, thriller, noir and so on. They helped redefine the genre and redefine what types of stories could be told using superhero characters. And at least a few of them still have less in common with superheroes as a genre than She Hulk has.
Noah and Charles (et alia):
First, I’ll admit that I am only familiar with the Mittell’s work second-hand – I own the Cops to Cartoons genre book but haven’t had time to read it yet. But that being said, if what you are saying is right, then I think I just end up disagreeing with him about genre.
Now, I certainly agree to the point that genre is constructed, social, and negotiated. But that doesn’t mean that we have to go so far as to make genre nothing more than the listing of the members of a category. When people talk about (and construct) genres, they don’t just list a bunch of films or comics and say that the genre “films (or comics) like these (in relevant respects).” Rather, they say (or should say) that the genre contains “films (or comics) like these insofar as they have the following characteristics… (which we have decided are important to this genre)” So if the majority of people later say that work X is in that genre, we can fairly criticize the claim in virtue of the work lacking the sort of characteristics we had previously agreed were important to the genre (of course, we might also modify our collective understanding of the genre – the point is we have a legitimate choice here).
In short, when we divide works into genres, we aren’t merely categorizing works into similar groups, but we are providing explanations of why those groups are important to us. Later genre judgements can be assessed not only in term of similarity to previous judgements, but more holistically, in terms of the sorts of explanations we have given of inclusion in that genre more generally.
By the way, this is how formalism about genre can slip back in through the back door: We might, as an evaluative and critical community, decide some formal feature is an important part of our collective explanation for the nature of some genre. So formalism is no longer a part of our account of the nature of genre itself, but it can still be a central part of our explanation of the features important to a particular genre (note that being black and white is a formal feature, and one might think it is also an important feature of the film noir genre).
By the way, even if we reject formalism for genre, I am not sure we can for medium (i.e. comics versus film). Medium (in some cases at least) has a lot to do with the actual physical support, particular type of materials, and manipulative techniques used in the construction of an artwork, and physical materials of different sorts, different ways of manipulating them, etc. have different formal properties. Further, this thought is often inherent in the name of the art forms (e.g. fine art prints must be printed, traditional sculpture must involve the manipulation of solid materials – that is, sculpting, etc.)
” (which we have decided are important to this genre)”
The question is, who do you mean by “we”. I think Mittell would agree with your point in general, but his argument is that “we” doesn’t have to be experts or people with a commitment to the genre. “We” can be casual passersby, or people who don’t really know what they’re talking about. If the definition is social, expertise in terms of formal qualities doesn’t necessarily matter a ton.
I’d say institutions matter too, and distribution…but that can mean that (for example) the fact that She-Hulk is made by Marvel might be more important for declaring it a superhero comic than what happens in the comic per se.
Roy’s point about formalism is a good one. We can (and should) talk about the social construction of genre, but communities recognize an object as a member of a genre in part because of certain cues, be they visual, auditory, etc. The community agrees on which cues to count and which cues to discount when they make decisions about categorization. This is one way that objects can be categorized in more than one genre. Shelley’s novel ‘Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus’ is today considered an important part of early science fiction. But it is also considered an important part of early 19th-century British literature, particularly the novel.
Can the particular object of Roy’s query (Soule and Polido’s ‘She-Hulk’) belong to multiple genres? Probably so. Any given work will have (formal) characteristics that allow categorization to vary according to the audience/readership as well as the scholarly community, even if those two groups disagree. And in comics, the fan-scholar plays a very important role in that categorization.
Other disciplines that work on genre (especially applied linguistics and composition studies) struggle with questions of social construction versus formalism, too. When a new college student learns to read an article in the academic discipline that she’s majoring in (e.g., biochemistry), she has to learn to recognize the established conventions of the genre. Eventually, if she stays in the major and completes a degree, perhaps going on to graduate study, getting a job in a research institute, she will be able to recognize exemplars of the genre as well as peripheral members and those objects that don’t belong.
Sorry, folks, my browser went haywire so I only got part of my post posted.
My point about the undergraduate majoring in biochemistry is this: she learns to read scholarly articles in her field and she goes on to learn how to produce scholarly articles. She’ll have to recognize the conventions and meet the expectations of her audience in order to be (perceived as) successful. If she plays with the conventions too much, if she doesn’t adhere closely enough to the formal characteristics of the genre, then she won’t be (considered) successful.
Over time, of course, these characterstics sometimes shift or realign, so that what reads like an academic article in 2014 may not have counted as one in 1954. So genre does change, and it is socially constructed, and it is defined at least in part by recognizable traits.
Again, Mittell’s point would be that expert opinion isn’t the only opinion that counts. Scholarly articles are not a popular genre, really, so it’s not clear many people outside the field are going to care that much. But comics isn’t biology (to make a genre distinction.)
It doesn’t really matter whether the genre is popular or not. A theory of genre should be able to account for that. No one said comics is biology.
It seems like popularity and reception is pretty central to genre? I mean, in most regards genre theory isn’t really applied, or meant to be applied to academic science papers. It’s an interesting move to do that, but I don’t really see how it invalidates Mittell’s points in general to use “genre” to mean things it is almost never meant to cover (though of course Mittell wouldn’t say that biology papers aren’t genre; his whole point is that if you want to see them that way you can).
To me looking at biology papers as genre seems like it emphasizes the extent to which popular aesthetic genres are decentralized. Science papers are embedded in an institutional context and have a clear purpose (i.e., career advancement) that isn’t really the case for television (which Mittell talks about) or comics.
“No one said comics is biology.”
Well, it follows from Noah’s (and maybe Mittel’s) position that they might one day be biology.
It’s true! It doesn’t seem likely at the moment, but you never know.