Relatable Heroes

I’ve never really had the need to find my heroes relatable.

I’ve heard some people talk about not being able to relate to Superman. He’s just too powerful, too perfect, and too omnipotent. This has always puzzled me, as that’s the whole point of the character. To offer something so much larger than real life that you can’t help but to look up to the example being set. The ‘gateway’ character of Clark Kent offering a hidden, powerful perfection that is hope personified.


Many people I know list Spider-Man as their hero. Bad things happen to him and he’s always screwing up. They’re able to relate to a real hero with real problems. Those aspects of the character have never spoken to me. I don’t want heroes firmly rooted to the ground. The aspects of Spider-Man I find alluring are his overwhelming, super-human sense of responsibility that keep driving him, pushing him, into being a character that never gives up.


I think that this might be one of the many fundamental differences between Marvel fans and DC fans; relatable characters versus iconic heroes. The differences between DC and Marvel are much better covered here.

My favorites have always been the traditional heroes. Those who have characteristics in their personalities that are more than human. My favorite character of the Fantastic Four has always been Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic. It was never his stretching power that allured me, but always his intelligence, leadership, and heroics.

Captain Kirk seems to be on both sides of the fence. People will list to me his more human qualities that they find alluring. But to me, he’s just as super-human as Superman. He’ll never give up, never compromise, and never stop fighting for what he believes in. He’s not without fault, but his vision of what’s right is clear.


I use Captain Kirk as an example to my kids. We were watching Star Trek III, and I stopped the DVD.

“There’s no use in going further. Captain Kirk is done.” I said.

“No daddy, no!” They yell.

“Are you watching? Did you see what happened? Spock is dead. The Enterprise is destroyed. The planet they’re on is falling apart. And their Klingon enemies are closing in for the kill. Captain Kirk should just give up.”

“Daddy! We have to see what happens!” They yell. So I turn it back on. Ten minutes later, Kirk has stolen the Klingon ship, gotten everyone off planet, and BROUGHT SPOCK BACK TO LIFE. That man never gives up.

My goal, of course, is to teach my kids never to give up. And to never allow excuses or obstacles to get in the way of their success. Only time will tell if my efforts have a positive effect on them. But looking at some of the adults around me, I know it’s the right thing to do.

My father has a predictably practical breakdown on the issue. “Watching Superman movies is okay because he’s supposed to do all these impossible things. Watching Batman movies is stupid because he’s a normal guy who can’t possibly do these impossible things.” It’s one of the few times we’ve spoken on the subject.

It’s a similar theme to my post about Space 1999 and Falling Skies. I do not want my science fiction to be realistic. I don’t want my comic books to be gritty and true-to-life.

The effect this has had on me as an adult is interesting. Of course, I don’t have enough objective distance to talk about it. But hindsight offers some tidbits. I remember distinctly working late one night on some computer coding that just wouldn’t work right. Beat down, tired, hungry, missing my family, and wondering why getting this deadline conquered was all that important. Then I would look up from my monitor to a poster on my cubicle wall, see the Super Friends smiling at me, and get back to work. Knowing full well that it was a personality defect that kept me moving, but I was moving nonetheless.


Thanks,
DCD