It's a bird! It's a plane!It's a ... man in weird undies?

Costumes matter, especially when they're supposed to hide the identity of a superhero. But their absence is as important to a comic book as their presence. In fact, I have seen comic books with no wacky costumes at all, and they count amongst some of my favorites. Indeed, the worst comic books are often no more than a costume parade (or soft porn, or both).

What matters much more than the costume is the person inside it. "The Amazing Spiderman" is actually the story of Peter Parker, "Batman" is the story of Bruce Wayne, and trenchcoat or not, "Hellblazer" is simply the old bastard John Constantine. It's good to see Batman kick some psycho's ass every now and then, but what really hooks a reader to the story is when Bruce Wayne's life is turned upside down e.g. "Bruce Wayne Murderer" . And a spiderman comic book is no fun without smart-mouth Peter Parker moving earth and the heavens for earning the extra buck and trying to score with MJ.

What keeps a reader hooked to a story, any story, is emotional engagement. If you can get the reader to invest his emotions in the story, you got it made. And in the current comic book paradigm, the costume doesn't help much towards that goal. The hero puts it on mostly when he has to fight, and the emotional range of a fight sequence is rather hackneyed most of the time(there are a few exceptions, like the death of Gwen Stacy). So, you have to turn to the non-costumed part of a hero's life and explore his relationships and non-super life situations. The larger than life persona fascinates us, but it's the human behind it that we identify with and trust.

All good writers know this and many of them have made comic books heroes who don't wear any outrageous costumes and masks. But the fact remains that the hero must be unique and different from everyone else. And the graphic medium provides one with such lucrative choices that are hard to resist. I mean, since visual effects are a big attraction of the medium, it seems almost foolish not to exploit them to add dimensions to the hero. Sometimes the results are very unique, like Hellboy (with a body like that you don't need a costume to be an eye-catcher). And even when the hero is not so outrageously unique visually, it's good to see something familiar on him, like John Constantine's trenchcoat or Spider Jerusalem's suit. Even in books like "Y - The Last Man", where the hero doesn't have anything unique in his attire, someone else does (like agent 355 who stayed with him till the second last issue); even though it wasn't needed, I mean, you're the last man alive on earth! That's pretty unique in itself.

Also, when used well, costumes add complexity to the plot. Because costumes usually go hand-in-hand with the idea of a 'secret identity'. And that element is a good source of conflict in a hero's life. And who doesn't like good visual effects? But there has to be a balance. The writer needs to remember not to smother the hero or the story with the costume, while maintaining fascination for the character. After all, who wants to see 30 pages of a man flying around in his undies? Now, if it's a superbabe ...

Defining happiness

Happiness. What is happiness? Is there an objective way of defining it? A lot of gurus talk of 'true' happiness and 'momentary happiness' and eternal happiness and such whatnots. They usually talk of some absolute transcendental happiness that results from attaining some transcendental knowledge. It is a very lucrative proposition, actually: to put in a good deal of effort for only once and then attain the happiness that'll stay with you forever. Something that can never be taken away from you. Is such a thing possible? Maybe. Is it desirable? Probably.

A lot of discourse can be found on the topic of happiness (even more on the topic of suffering, I'll wager) in both oriental and occidental schools of thought. However, instead of examining them, I would like to put forward my personal opinion; the definition of happiness that holds true for me, and will probably hold true for others as well. I won't call this state of happiness transcendental, but it is long-term; and I hope I can make it permanent. And I certainly find it desirable.

From around the time when I was thirteen years old to about an year ago (a couple of years short of a decade), a particular idea has continually haunted my thoughts: 'if I could live my life all over again, I won't make the big mistakes I've made.I'll get the most out of my life. I'll make the most of all the opportunities I've squandered ...' and so on. I could actually count on my fingers all the things that I wanted to change. I also remember being continually angry at myself for not being good enough, not being able to make the most out of my life. It wasn't pessimism: I always believed that I can make things change by my effort; it was frustration at not achieving that change.

But now, there has been a significant change in my thought pattern. Now, the sentence that starts with 'if I could live my life all over again ...' , ends with ' I won't'. The simple reason is that now I like the person that I am. Sure, life is still far from what it should be. There is still much to achieve and I am aware that I have squandered much of my life away when I could have used all that time constructively. But I also know that I wouldn't have been the person that I am today, if I hadn't made the choices I made in my life ... good and bad.

This is my definition of happiness: if given a chance to live my life all over again, I can say no to it; if I can accept all my successes and failures with the same composure knowing that all of it made me the person I am today; I am a happy man. Moreover, I am a free man: free of the ghosts of my past to build a good future.

Not yet dead

This is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago, and later got it published in the poetry section of www.theonering.com, a Tolkien fansite . It might still be lying somewhere in their archives. When I originally wrote it, I was suffering from the heroic feelings that one is afflicted with so very often in student life. Later, I depersonalized it by posting it in the context of the life of Frodo Baggins after he returned from Mordor.

I may be down,
but not yet dead

Beaten, ravaged, torn, sick,
Wounded I may be,
but not yet dead

Standing still on broken crutches,
Wanting to fall and be at rest,
Yet trying to walk
for I know
I may be down,
but not yet dead

Magic !

Magic. What is magic? Demonology? Nature worship? Satanism? Imagination? A tribal dancing around a pole for the rain god to bring the heavens pouring down on his head? Chanting mantras for your physical and spiritual health? An alchemist trying to make the philosopher's stone? Is it natural or supernatural?

It would be a rather fascinating quest to explore the notion of magic and the role it has played and is still playing in the history of the human race; and many have taken this path. But my aim is a little different. I would prefer to explore the concept of magic in fictional space and the symbolism it represents. It may not always explicitly be called magic (e.g. May the Force be with you!), but we would include every such concept in our definition of magic. What I write may not be pertinent to the sword and sorcery genre, because I have read few books of this genre.

In epic fantasy(e.g. The lord of the rings, The wheel of time, Magician Apprentice), magic is usually an innate ability to be developed. If you don't have it you don't have it. There might be magical objects that can be wielded by anyone, but that only takes you so far. The idea usually is that it is an all-pervasive force that can be harnessed only by a special few. This gives us the impression that these few are somehow nearer to nature, or the universe and can communicate with it in some way to make it act according to their will. I personally think it's a little bit like expressionist art, where the artist bends reality to express a higher truth or a more intense emotion.

Here we encounter the idea of a relationship between magic and imagination. If you could do only a fixed task with a precise, fixed process then magic wouldn't be that interesting. The idea is usually that what you can do with magic is bounded by 1) your innate capacity for magic, and 2)your imagination. How well you can use magic within your capacity is completely dependent on your imagination. And indeed, if the hero of our tale is a magician, we often see him performing some feat in a completely unexpected way, because he could imagine the new, unconventional way. Of course, sometimes some writers take the more banal path of establishing the superiority of the hero in only the innate ability (can move bigger mountains than expected) and not in his magical creativity. But that is really equivalent to thoughtless manual labour. The imagination factor elevates magic to an art form, where your magical ability is the paintbrush and your environment is the canvas. The idea is particularly stressed in Raymond E. Feist's 'Magician Apprentice' where the magician Kulgan tries to explain this aspect of magic to his young apprentice again and again :
"Much of what I am trying to do is like trying to teach someone to play the lute. You can show them the fingering of the strings, but that knowledge alone will not make a great troubadour.It is the art, not the scholarship that troubles you."

Usually magic in fiction follows the above paradigm and is often associated with imagination and contrasted with logic,reason and science. Indeed, fantasy writers, and in particular British fantasy writers often write of an exodus of magic and magical creatures with the coming of the age of reason. The impression is usually that of losing a more magical, more beautiful old world to a more rational, cruder, but hopeful new world. For instance, the exodus of the elves in The Lord of the Rings. The reason for such an exodus are always given, and despite of being varied, they have a common resonance. We come across sentences like 'This is the age of man. It is time for us(magical creatures) to depart.', 'Man has little room in his life for magic now.', etc. The common theme is that of a world moving from a nature-centric point of view to an anthropocentric point of view. A transition from an age of gods to an age when man decided to become his own god. And this idea has been in the minds of British authors ever since the advent of the industrial and scientific revolutions. Taking examples from outside fantasy literature, 'Hard Times' by Charles Dickens talks of a utilitarian world devoid of imagination and wonder and humanity. A world ruled by cold and precise reason. Let's quote a part of one of the most unforgettable dialogues of this novel to make the situation clear :

'Bitzer,' said Mr. Gradgrind, broken down, and miserably submissive
to him, 'have you a heart?'
'The circulation, sir,' returned Bitzer, smiling at the oddity of
the question, 'couldn't be carried on without one. No man, sir,
acquainted with the facts established by Harvey relating to the
circulation of the blood, can doubt that I have a heart.'
'Is it accessible,' cried Mr. Gradgrind, 'to any compassionate
influence?'
'It is accessible to Reason, sir,' returned the excellent young
man. 'And to nothing else.'

Ergo, magic has been an important and a very strong metaphor for everything the old world stood for before the coming of the scientific revolution. Of course, the metaphor hasn't always been confined to the fictional space. Nature worshipers, agnostics and pagans bore the brunt of the medieval witch hunts and the subsequent ordeals. Nature worshiping and local magic was equated to satanism then. And in the modern era environmentalists were ridiculed, labeled as hippies or zealots or dinosaurs.

However,anyone reading the snippet of dialogue above would instantly label it as a rather hysteric reaction to the scientific revolution. Then, magic/imagination and science/reason were represented as being mutually exclusive. In contemporary literature, we see a picture of coexistence of sorts. In the Harry Potter series, the magical and technological worlds exist together, but the magical world is carefully hidden from the eyes of the mundane world. Another British-American writer, Neil Gaiman, has dramatized the conflict between magic/fantasy and science/reason in his novel 'American Gods'; a conflict that again demonstrates that the two worlds must find ways to coexist. Mutual exclusivity is no longer an option; if it ever was. Magic is still relevant in this age of science, and wild imagination doesn't fight cold reason anymore for supremacy. And I believe that magic would remain relevant for ever. For justification let me quote Titania, the queen of Faerie, from Neil Gaiman's wonderful graphic novel 'Books of Magic' :

"There are only two worlds ... your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the Fantasy. Worlds like this are worlds of the human imagination : their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. What is important is that they are there. These worlds provide an alternative. Provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream, and power. Provide refuge and pain.

They give your world meaning. They do not exist; and thus they are all that matters. Do you understand?"

As short as it gets

Wired asked some famous authors to write 6 words long stories for them. The results were ... well, read for yourself here.

My personal favorites are :

Longed for him. Got him. Shit.
- Margaret Atwood

Wasted day. Wasted life. Dessert, please.
- Steven Meretzky

It cost too much, staying human.
- Bruce Sterling

The baby’s blood type? Human, mostly.
- Orson Scott Card

Don’t marry her. Buy a house.
- Stephen R. Donaldson

Back again

It's been a really long time since the last time I posted something here. I've been writing a couple of posts about the different media used for telling stories, but there are so many of these, each having its own special qualities, that I never finished that draft. And then I got busy, oh, so very busy.

Anyway, I'm planning to be more regular from now on. So, today I'll just post one of my english poems here (if I find out the way to write devanagari script here, I'll also post my hindi poems) :

I am angry

I am angry,
I don't know why.
Crawling limbs, cracked skin, hungry eyes,
Men or worms? I often wonder
as I pass by
Walking with the multitude
hiding my eyes from the naked despondency
staring in my face

Soon they will be hidden from my view
Still crawling, still hungry,
but visible no more

Soon I will forget all this,
and be haunted no more
By frail shadows
of living ghosts

I am angry
I don't know why

A ... superhero? Are you sure?

It's superpersons galore this summer! Apart from 'Superman returns' and 'Xmen-3', there's also the debut of the Indian superhero Krrish to be taken into account.In fact, it's Krrish who has inspired this post. The movie was fine, but there was something about it that bothered me for quite a while. I had a nagging thought after coming out of the theatre that this one was no 'superhero flick'.It might have been called a family drama, or a romantic movie or even an action movie ... though actually it was a mixture of all these, something that we have so aptly christened 'masala' movies; but it certainly was no superhero flick.And the reason for that? Well, to put it plainly, Krrish is a hero, but not a superhero. Do I hear protests of the form "But he's got the superpowers!" , "but he's got the moves!" or "But he's got the costume!" ? Well, of course he has! So what? That still goes only halfway towards making a superhero. IMHO, the three essential components that go into the making of a superhero are : ability, style, and commitment.

Ability is the extra capacity for action on a physical, mental, spiritual or magical level. The superpowers fall into this category. And majority of superheros do have superpowers, except some more interesting ones like Batman, who have honed their mental and physical prowess by hard work and keep increasing their abilities by making use of the latest technological innovations.

Style ... is the trademark of the hero. The appearance and mannerisms that are meant to impress the audience. The masks, costumes(briefs over trousers)and moves fall into this category. Style is also the trait that tells the audience whether the hero is a boy scout or a homicidal maniac.

The last, and this is where our so-called superhero fails, is commitment. For every superhero, there comes a turning point in his life, when he decides that he will devote his life to fighting for truth, justice, protecting innocents, or in some extreme cases, revenge(e.g. the Punisher). This is the moment where he gains that larger than life stature. For Batman, it was when his parents were murdered and he eventually decided to conquer his fear and wage a war on crime.For Spiderman it was when his uncle was murdered because of his lack of civic sense, and he came to realize that 'with great power comes great responsibility'. For Superman it was when he won a football match at highschool, and realized what petty uses had he been putting his great powers to when his adoptive father told him how disappointed he was at this irresponsible attitude. For Krrish, the moment never arrived. Whatever good deed he did during the movie ... well any other (non-super) hero would also have done the same with less panache and probably less success. But even after all his exploits he never realized that the world might need him constantly; that since he is able to do so much good and there's so much injustice in this world, he'd better make it a life-long vocation to help people/fight crime.At the end of it all, he still goes back to his sleepy little village to spend the rest of his days dancing and singing around the trees with his beloved and probably communing with the nature when he gets bored.

A nice boy. A hero. But sadly, not a superhero. Not yet. Oh well, maybe the next sequel ...