Superman in World War II and more

Originally published July 31, 1998 in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1289

Assorted thoughts on various things…

I noticed a marquee that was playing two films, and they were listed one atop the other. I was amused by the pairing:

Hope Floats

Titanic

All I could think was that, if someone had been able to tie Hope to the Titanic, perhaps no one would have died.

* * *

Well, DC certainly took a shellacking for Superman: The Man of Steel #80 and #81. In case you didn’t read the issues, or were unaware of any of the fallout (DC issued a formal apology… although who the apology was to, I’m not entirely sure) the story focused on Superman in World War II Poland. The story was notable both for its attention to detail… and, conflictingly, its omission of detail. Specifically, although the story focused largely on the Jewish population, there was not only no depiction of the Jewish star armbands that the people were forced to wear, but the word “Jew” was never so much as mentioned (or even the word “Juden.”)

Some weeks ago, none other than Harlan Ellison called me and said, “I’ve got a terrific subject for column,” and pointed out the aforementioned. I figured it would keep for a while while I finished the “TruBatman Show.” Bad call on my part: A couple weeks later, Jewish organizations raised a ruckus, Howard Stern ripped it on his show. A scoop handed to me and I fumbled it.

Perhaps the editorial thinking was that indicating the oppression of Jews in so explicit a fashion would encourage imitative behavior. Or that Jews would be upset by a comic book that covered such material in so specific a manner.

Unfortunately, such philosophies would indicate a fundamental unawareness of the Jewish mindset when it comes to the Holocaust. The “motto” of the Holocaust, if such a ghastly event can have one, is “Never again.” Nothing is considered more important than educating and reminding people of what happened fifty years ago (which might as well have been millennia ago to modern youth; studies indicated that average high school students had no idea what World War II was about, who our allies were, and who the Axis powers were.)

Millions of Jews (and others) died because the world denied at the time that it could possibly be happening. Jews are ever-vigilant when it comes to such things, fully aware that only when people forget what happened–either through lack of education or through deliberate attempts to rewrite history and pretend that none of it ever occurred–that will be the point at which the Jewish people are vulnerable and such genocide can occur.

Indeed, the specter of the horrors performed during World War II permeates even today. When other groups, races and nationalities are threatened with extinction, it becomes incumbent upon civilized nations to take whatever steps they can to avert such bestial acts. Part of the reason is because they have an onus upon them to prevent a recurrence of any aspect of the Holocaust. It becomes a subtext for all political decisions along those lines.

The depiction of tormented Jews during the Nazi occupation… this would not cause offense to Jews.

Actually, I take that back. There’s always someone who’s going to be offended by something. (I’m reminded of the individual who derided Schindler’s List, equating it with pornography because of the nudity involving the mortified Jews, despite the fact that such humiliation by the Nazis was not only documented and witnessed, but routine.) But said depiction certainly should not cause offense. Far more offensive is the notion that anyone should ever forget, or prompt others to forget, what happened in World War II Germany.

That’s one of the reasons it was necessary to let the Nazis demonstrate in Skokie, Illinois some years back: So that Jewish groups could mount a loud counter-demonstration in order to remind the public of just what happened half a century ago, and to drive home what the face of the enemy looks like.

It’s really a shame that DC blew the call on this one and opted for political correctness instead of driving home to today’s youth just who was being oppressed by the Nazis. It would have been a terrific story without that omission; instead it got publicly hammered for what was left out rather than what was there, and I fear it may discourage DC from tackling material of a similarly challenging basis, simply because of concerns over public reaction. Why risk offending those obviously touchy Jews?

There are two lessons to be drawn from this:

(1) It’s better to err on the side of accuracy. Just as truth is the ultimate defense in libel, there is no more potent defense of a story choice than to say, “But that’s what happened.”

(2) When Ellison calls with a column idea, jump on it. (Ingersoll, Evanier, please note.)

* * *

As I find myself once again dialoguing Jack Kirby New Gods characters (in this instance, the Female Furies in Supergirl) I am back in the same situation as I was in when I had the Deep Six guest star in Aquaman. The characters don’t sound “right” to me if I dialogue them in anything approaching my normal style. I find that I have to write their lines in the classic oddball Kirby scripting style, including emphasis on the most unexpected of words, and quotations around other words which don’t seem to “warrant” it.

When I did it before, there were some fans who were under the impression that I was doing it to make fun of the King. Nothing could be further from the truth. I just did it because it seemed the only way that the characters were going to be accurate. So when the Furies show up a few months down the line, I’m letting you know right now: There’s no slight intended.

* * *

Peter’s latest bizarre idea for a Costume Competition Sketch: A lip-synch routine to “When You’re Strange” (that funky tune used to such good effect in the film Lost Boys) performed by Hugo Strange, the Stranger, the Phantom Stranger, and Doctor Strange. As always, I have no intention of ever doing it, so anyone out there should feel free if they’re so inclined.

* * *

To quote Ferris Beuller: Life moves pretty quickly.

My parents were in town visiting a few days ago. It was lunchtime, and my father and I decided to go out and get sandwiches. We come back ten minutes later… and the entire block is cordoned off by fire engines and ambulances. Now under ordinary circumstances, my first thought would be, “Geez, I hope there’s nothing wrong at my house!” But only ten minutes previously everything had been fine, and so it didn’t occur to me that there could possibly be anything wrong at home.

Which, of course, was a false conclusion.

A power line, which had previously been attached to my house, had fallen off. The thing had landed squarely in front of the front steps (narrowly missing my mother) and was on the front walk, giving off huge leaping sparks of electricity. My entire family had been evacuated and had taken refuge on a neighbor’s porch. Sections of the front lawn were beginning to smolder and the steps and walk were becoming completely blackened. A fire truck was positioned on the street, ready for action in case anything actually went up in flames. But no one could touch the electric cable itself until the Long Island Power Company had shown up to shut down the power and disconnect the wire.

After about half a dozen frantic calls to the LIPC, the emergency team responded a rip-snorting one-and-a-half- hours later. Yes, ninety fun-filled minutes of watching helplessly as sparks flew everywhere, worrying that at any moment something was going to go up. The most surreal aspect was having the entire neighborhood turning out to watch what was going on. Now I know the only thing worse than being stuck in traffic because tons of rubberneckers are slowing down to watch someone else’s personal disaster… namely being the one who gets to have the personal disaster. And yet, somehow even odder was that, as time passed and there were no new developments, people got bored and went back into their homes. Okay, enough of one person’s crisis. Let’s see what else is on.

Eventually the power guys showed up, the crisis was solved, and the now-tumultuous visit with my folks was able to continue. Of course, I could have attempted to try and bring matters to a more rapid conclusion by grabbing the live wire in hopes that I would get super powers as a result. But that origin usually seems to produce only supervillains, so I opted not to.

* * *

My eldest daughter, Shana, asked me, “How come the word ‘lisp’ has an ‘s’ in it? How cruel is that?” Sometimes I just have no answers.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)