Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes--Who Watches the Watchmen?

“We have labored long to build a heaven, only to find it populated with horrors.” -–Professor Milton Glass from “Dr. Manhattan: Super-Powers and the Superpowers”

“I am going to look at the stars. They are so far away and their light takes so long to reach us.” --Dr. Manhattan (while staring off the precipice of Mars)

In hopes of stretching our ever-expanding range of themes and book types, our group decided to discuss a story form new to our club: the graphic novel. So with Ben's suggestion, we decided to upon Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons'Watchmen. The energy of our discussion was muted slightly by the knowledge of that this was Ben's last discussion with us (since he & his wife have both taken teaching jobs at Appalacian State in Boone, NC). But back to happy thoughts....

I couldn’t help but be impressed by the Russian-ness of the story. In a novel set during the apex of the Cold War, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy by the zig zag narration. Nichole compared it to Lost, the way the story broke off and then entered into a character’s back story. I loved that Watchmen had so many layers. I’ve never seen the movie, but I wonder if Moore & Gibbons’ vision wouldn’t have been better filmed as a 2 or 3 part series instead of 1 film.

The book seems to be an exploration of the superhero psychey every bit as much as an action story. Moore uses several voices to tell his story, not just dialogue, but the end chapter additions that included excerpts from Hollis Mason’s autobiography to letters from Ms. Jupiter’s fan mail.

Yet beyond the actual words, when dealing with comics, you must acknowledge the artwork’s contribution to the overall telling of the story. That’s where Ben came in. As an artist, he pointed out Gibbons’ use of foreground and background to provide emphasis of specific ideas. For example, the scene where Dan sees Laurie in her superhero costume, he’s shocked, and she’s in the background of the panel. The authors make her sexiness low key, thus producing a subtle joke. Whereas the film emphasizes her sexiness in her outfit, the novel subverts that obvious & easy attention-getting. I wouldn’t have been able to compare the different uses of sex & imagery. Ben noticed.

We also noticed the greatness of the book. The committee that puts together the Hugo Award created a special category just to give this book its award. Special things receive special attention. This is important in that the book deals with superheroes, people who are by definition, above the rest of us. But what makes a person or a story super? What makes it uncommon? Being different isn’t enough. Dr. Manhattan is the only one who’s actually super, and even he isn’t as powerful as his abilities suggest. What characteristics denote a specific denotation? The answers are slippery but fun to wrestle with. And with complex questions comes complex answers, hence the layered yet satisfying narrative.

Discussing Arthur's Roundtable at a Sbux Brown Table

“We seem to discuss this idea every few months, so it must be important.” --Nichole

While reading T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, I realized I wanted to talk about the section titled Incipit Liber Primus, translated from Latin meaning “the book’s first section, which discusses Merlyn’s education of Arthur while he was a young boy. Disney recounts this portion of the book in its 1963 movie The Sword and the Stone. As a kid, I never liked a lot of kid entertainment. Sesame Street never held my attention, and I found many Disney films unbearable. But I always liked The Sword and the Stone. I still don’t know why, but I do know why I liked the first part of this book: it deals with teaching. When Merlyn uses his magic to Wart (Arthur’s nickname as a youth) into an owl, or a fish, or one of Robin [H]ood’s Merry Men, he is giving the young king the equivalent to a liberal arts education. Arthur experiences new worlds and new ways of seeing, all so that he can one day bring forth a new Europe, a continent freed from the inequity of feudalism.

I love books that chronicle how people are trained to do great things. And since our group is made up mostly of teachers, we spent time on it. In fact, Ben pointed out that Merlyn’s teaching was often begrudging. For example, he felt games like jousting were a waste of time, yet he shows Arthur a jousting match. Nichole talked of how much of Merlyn’s teaching didn’t involve much instruction but more putting him in a certain situation and then leaving Arthur to learn on his own, similar to how a teacher may give a vague assignment and leave it to the student to mold it. But that is just one section of the book.

And White does more than simply tell a story. He uses the Arthurian legend to show dispel some of the romance surrounding our concept of knightly chivalry. The Round Table is broken apart by jealousy, greed, and resentment. True chivalry, true change, and true legends don’t come merely from great actions; great sacrifice is a prerequisite. And that sacrifice could destroy you. For example, Lancelot returns from his Grail Quest broken…but more godly.

So implicit in this discussion is a question our group seems to return to every few months: how far does sacrifice go? How much should we give? And what should we give? And to whom? These are not easy questions. But if we are to transcend ourselves, should we not ask them? And, just as importantly, how do we answer them? Of course, the answers are different for everyone, which is why we switch books every 4 weeks…

Next book: The Watchmen by Alan Moore

Teaching Amanda Bynes (or What You Will)

Our last get together was good. We discussed casually Twelfth Night. We tried to find an American equivalent to the twelve Christmas celebration that Shakespeare used as the backdrop. We don’t really have a festival of opposites where, for a day, servants are masters, absurdity is normality, etc. We have Mardi Gras, and students have Spring Break. But those are niche celebrations, one being local to New Orleans, the other narrowly confined to students who can afford to go on Spring Break.

For me, understanding the play’s context would be integral for teaching it. How else could students even begin to understand a story whose language is a bit obtuse? That’s when Bob brought up a good point about the need to have a visceral rather than intellectual reaction. This play is built heavily upon the festive mood of the year. Its absurdity makes sense within the part-religious, part-bacchanalian framework. Bob talked about how it’d be good to help students identify with the whimsicality of the story more so than its intellectualness.

Twelfth Night is one of Shakespeare’s problem plays. The main characters fall in love. But no one actually earns their love. Mood and circumstance dictate action. The play is poetic and has elements worth discussing. But Shakespeare doesn’t seem to be putting forth a clear message or philosophy that many of his other plays provide. This is why Bob talks about the importance of emphasizing feeling. Even thoughts about feelings can teach. And theories are seldom born in the void.

Speaking of students and Shakespeare, our group also talked about the Amanda Bynes movie She’s the Man, which is apparently an adaptation of the play in a high school setting. I do find Amanda Bynes’ cheeriness rather delightful, but I’ve never seen it (although Nichole admitted to watching it twice in a 24 hr span). I imagine the appeal with both the play and its younger film-adapted cousin is that they, like the twelve night Christmas festival, help us cope with the absurdity of life by allowing us to purposely court absurdity in a controlled context.

Next book: T.H. White’s The Once and Future King