The Power of Myth, a reprint of an interview with Jim Krueger

Jim Krueger is an award winning comic book writer. His works are filled with all sorts of large and great themes, or so I thought. But I rarely saw anything in print or online that suggested that more people than I thought so. So I asked him. Below is the result of that question and answer session.

Is justice possible in human existence? What do heroes in costume have to do with stories about human morality?

You know, I'm not certain if perfect justice is possible in human existence. I would tend to think not. I know I'm venturing into Plato's territory here and nearing a discussion of unattainable ideals, but I tend to think that "true justice" is such a complex idea that the best any of us can get to it is something like "close enough". Whether people have been supportive of the war in the Middle East or not, I don’t think anyone would suggest that it's not a far more sticky situation (and not just because of the heat and sand) than anyone supposed. The question is, what is perfect justice and what does it look like.

In the world of superheroes, what do you do? I mean, imagine if you would, an insect that had been poisoned and filled with a venom so toxic that for you to beaten by it would mean that you would no longer be able to be defined in purely human terms.

On the offset, we would say that by all means, don’t let it bite you. By all means, if there's a superhero in the area, stop that insect, kill that creature, save us.

But, of course, if a superhero did intervene, that insect, that spider would never have bitten Peter Parker and transformed him into Spider-Man. So thank God there wasn't a superhero there to stop that tragedy. And maybe it's right to also say (speaking of Spider-Man mythology as if it were as real as say, my reality), thank God that Peter Parker didn't stop the criminal that killed Uncle Ben. How many has he saved as a result, whether due only to his guilt or not?

And that's the problem. Our want for justice usually grows out of suffering. But if we didn't suffer, we wouldn't want it. So things like Enron, where there is no real sense of suffering, could potentially happen more than they do.

Justice is often a knee-jerk reaction to suffering. The pursuit of justice also too often creates more suffering. So, what is to be done?

And, for that matter, I haven't even talked about the transformative power of suffering to make us into beings capable of serving Justice. Look at Spider-Man again. Look at all it took to make him one of the most popular superheroes in the world.

Would anyone look at his mythology and say it's just?

OK. Then in a cosmic sense, explain why Justice is a common and repeated theme in comics, and your work (in particular), if it is ultimately unattainable? Who determines what is Just? It is something I learned in college that, if we are all ok, if everyone's views have equal merit, if there is no definable and common intellectual grounds, why talk? Is your work an attempt to define that word, to give hard evidence for a resident moral dna in all of us? Where does that resident moral dna come from?

Well, some of the question becomes the sort of thing that philosophy and theology attempts to answer. I often get asked about my religious beliefs and I really don’t like to answer, often because I'm not in a position to have an ongoing discussion with all the people who may read a snippet and then form opinions that are the opposite of what I intend. If I want to do anything with my approach of these subjects, it's to raise questions, not provide pat answers.

So one thing I cannot do is provide some sort of basis for a common moral dna.

Beyond justice, we now live in era where morality is found to be determined in the heart and mind of the individual rather than the group or society. Does that blunt any sort of story you create in terms of whether the ethos and morals you've demonstrated to be good can be just as easily cast aside if inconvenient?

Doing the right thing is always inconvenient. That's why telling the truth no matter what requires so much bravery. I'm not saying that I don't believe in wisdom, or speaking without a sense of how words will be reacted against. But, in all honesty, doing the right thing can be a bitch. But, as can be seen in Stephen King's awesome STORM OF THE CENTURY, doing the wrong, not being the hero, can result in the loss of your very soul.

As to your question, one of the mistakes I think we often make in comics (and actually something BENDIS has done very well in DAREDEVIL) is we don't deal with the consequences of doing the right thing. I don't believe, really, or agree that we live in a world that doesn't pretty much agree on moral absolutes. But I do agree that there are a lot of questions as to where these things come from. Some say our moral values have been invented, grown, and shaped by an ever-advancing society. As mankind progresses, then so do they. Others say these more absolutes are disciplines that we attain through discipline and thoughtfulness. Still others suggest, like moral dna, that these absolutes are ideas implanted in us from a God, so that we at least, have an understanding of the way things ought to be.

The notion I work through in the stories I like to tell is not where they come from (although I did do this in Earth X), but what difference do they make. Why does a hero do what a hero does? Why does he believe he should risk his or her life in this moment, knowing that, if they die trying to save this person, it means that this same hero won't be around to save all the people who will be in need from that day forward?

I guess that when it comes down to it, yes, this is a religious question. Why should I risk my life for someone else? Why should I be brave for someone who isn't? Why should I, in a world of Katrinas, Wilmas and 9/11s, think about anyone else at the same time I need to serve the interests of my own family?

I mean, I'm not even sure I can argue, apart from some sort of religious basis, why I should even be concerned for my own family in those situations. If not for some deeply held conviction, maybe I can at best risk my life to some degree out of the pleasure that they give me.

But see, there it is again. I serve them because of what they give me. I know this is the basis of modern economic thought, but it certainly isn't basis of heroism. Or bravery. Or German choirs and thunder and lightning and blood.

I think the reason we want justice and heroism is because we don't believe it exists. But we still want it to. Like Santa. And we'd rather live as if it does. And who knows, maybe that's the first step to finding out it's really there.

Working with Alex Ross and others, you tell large stories, myths if you will, but are the myths real? Thor does not ride a chariot across the sky to cause thunder or lightning, does he?

We see movies all the time that say "Based On A True Story". I tend to think that all myths are based on "truth stories". That they somehow put us in touch with an idea or truth that, even if we don't see it, we know it has to exist. That's probably where the notion of "justice" comes from. It's like in Kill Bill here the Bride kills the assassin Coppertop in front of Coppertop's daughter. The Bride didn't intend it. That wasn't perfect justice. And so a cycle of revenge continues.

So, no, Thor doesn't cross the skies in a chariot. But that doesn't mean something amazing isn't occurring, something worthy of awe and our fascination. and our imagination . Myth points to truth, I think. It makes us feel something that true stories can't -- namely that there's more to life and our existence than we know. It spans lifetimes and political aspirations. It transcends the boredoms and disappointments of the stories that don't end the way we want them to. It provides the possibility of an ultimate "happily ever after" or "The end... or just the beginning?".

Do comics work differently than other mediums in telling stories regarding mythic content? The reason I ask is that almost every comic book in mainstream DC, Marvel, Image or Dark Horse is related to telling a story, larger than life, and often in spandex.

When I do books that are not owned by companies (things like Foot Soldiers, The Clockmaker, Alphabet Supes, a western I'm working on and more), I tend to take at least one step away from spandex. This isn't because I don't love superheroes. I do. It's because I want to take an even closer step towards mythology and creating new ones. And also because I sort of want to be able to kill my characters, or at least place them in a situation where they can be killed. This isn't because of my fascination with death and shadows (which I have), but because I want to tell stories where the stakes are in the realm of the ultimate. That's what's emotional. That's what makes you imagine the choirs of German women singing that death is coming for your hero and they should stop and run away, but they won't because if they do, all will be lost. (Sorry about that last sentence, by the way).

To a degree, I try to create that "all is lost" moment in my work on the classic superheroes as well. I'm writing a lot of screenplays lately, doing some short story writing and even working towards doing some stage plays. All these mediums have different approaches, but telling a story, any story requires, I guess, a sort of thinking in regards to what the audience is going to see or read.

Oh, I'm sorry, now I remember the question. Yes, comics are a unique medium. They are sort of the bastard love-child of Novel and Film sensibilities with Television trying to worm itself in with a claim for Paternity.

Like a novel, we get into the characters' heads. Through thought balloons and caption boxes, we can experience their thoughts, doubts etc. Literary textures like poetry can be used to further this along. But like film, there's a visual that takes certain imaginings out of the power of the audience. You see what the artist wants you to see. And television, of course, sneaks it's way into the mix by making certain that the story never ends, that there's always something to come after. Another issue. Another part of the story,

And so, as a result, comics become their own beast, borrowing and stealing from everything else, but doing so with artwork and mythologies that make them their own.

Does working in metaphors and large ideas call for a certain voice that is not found in, say, a shoegaze indy book, or a dark humor title or something else?

Yes, but I kind of think I've said too much already. There are certain themes here that I will be using in the concluding chapters (and in fact all of them) of JUSTICE.

The question is this -- what if the reason heroes never solve world problems like hunger, or greed, or war, is because they dare not? What if the attempt to end human suffering prevented human growth and transformation? What if, indeed, suffering was the vehicle of transformation, and by not accepting the necessity of these terrible things, humanity were itself made something almost dead. Like a rock in a creek. Or a tree that grows, dies and falls.

I'm not suggesting a world where heroes never save people. I'm suggesting a world where every evil, every terrible thing, is somehow able to become the means of something filled with glory and greatness, that the suffering of the once is like a bad dream compared with the potential and promise of what is to come.

This is thin ice, I understand. Because it can be used to justify so much wrong. And it can suggest an end justifies the means outlook. But if you have to get across the river, and you can't swim the current, sometimes the thin ice is the only way to go.

In The Clockmaker, there is a great deal of allegory, and beauty (albeit in a format that really did not work in the present market). Your work worked in terms of story on the surface, as well as the story beneath the surface. Has it come out in TPB and/or will it? Who is the Clockmaker?

Yeah, the lettering will be done in the near future. And then the final act will come out -- we'll do a collection, and then all the fans of this (which I am) can see the epic conclusion and read it all in its entirety.

For those who haven't read the first two acts, the Clockmaker is the story of a bunch of guys in Lederhosen, god, the devil, murder, a giant clockworks with gears hundreds of feet tall and a battle between eternity and finite measurement of time. It's a conspiracy in the traditions of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells. I've often pitched it as Noah's Ark meets Rosemary's Baby.

One thing I try to do in my titles for things is to come up with a title that works on a number of different levels. So the title, the Clockmaker refers to the man, Hans, who heard a voice from heaven tell him to build this giant clockworks within a hollow mountain. But the title also refers to the ticking clock of age inside every man, the self-made man who can build and build and build, yet cannot change the fact that he will die. The title also suggests the picture of god that many agnostics hold that maybe there is a creator who built this clockwork universe, but who left it to its own devices once he wound it up. The title lasso refers to an intricate trap created by the devil to get back into heaven after falling out with god, so to speak. It's a lot of things. Thanks for bringing this up. I'm really proud of this project, and it's been as difficult to begin it as it has been to finish it.