6 responses to “Batman vs Superman”

1. The only issue with a Helplessness Blues vibe is that Superman is the exact antithesis of helplessness…

2. Two answers to that: (1) Neither are we, with all our technology and spirit, helpless, but we can still feel that way, and so might Superman. (2) He’s not POWER-less, but as a man without peer, he is, in fact, pretty HELP-less. Sure, he has allies who help him, but at the end of the day, they’re all just waiting for Superman to save them — thus adding to the feeling of loneliness and sadness.

3. Sorry, but once I got going…

   For the purposes of Helplessness Blues, we are helpless, in spite of our technology and spirit. In spite of the spirit of the age (“I was raised up believing I was somehow unique”), the singer would rather be a “functioning cog in some great machinery.” This is the antithesis (and the challenge) of Superman. His story is so highly individualized, he will never be a mere cog. He actually is unique (the thing the singer is tired of being/being told he is). And even with his uniqueness, Supes serves “something beyond” him. He could rule the world, but he chooses to protect and defend it. His uniqueness is a gift, which comes with the price of loneliness.

   The singer rejects this loneliness, but accepts a Superman-esque mission of serving a greater existence. Only, he has no clue how/what to actually do. He doesn’t have the clarity that Superman has: “I don’t know what that will be,” he sings. His purpose is equivocal, even after subjecting himself to the community of the human race and giving up self-focused aspirations. That doesn’t mean he becomes a brainless slave in service of governments/social despots (“I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night”). He identifies and rejects “injustice,” but he doesn’t know “who to believe.” This moves Superman and the singer further from each other.

   The further remove of the singer from Superman occurs in the third verse. All the singer knows, he admits, is that “the world outside is so inconceivable.” Superman is not limited to this world: it’s his home, perhaps, but he travels through galaxies. The singer cannot even handle the wonders of a single world (“tongue-tied and dizzy”).

   So, quick breath. Superman is unique, doesn’t necessarily want to be, with a world-wide (possibly universe-wide) role to play. The singer is not excessively unique, accepts this by trying to find a world-wide mission to be a part of, and realizes that there isn’t one readily available, and that he can’t handle even the one world he wants to serve.

   He realizes this in a positive way, in which he comes to understand his thinking is getting him nowhere and it’s time to work at/enjoy his life, regardless of being in a world-wide mission: “Why should I wait for anyone else?” He ends his song by finding satisfaction by working in his own garden (“if I had an orchard”) and living with the one he loves (“you would wait tables”). His focus has narrowed from wanting to save the world by himself, to wanting to save the world with others, to wanting to enjoy the world for what it is with those he can (while working it; he’s not a hedonist or an existentialist or a nihilist). The “gold hair in the sunlight” (presumably that of his love) is his “light in the dawn:” a light of clarity that will wash out the helplessness blues. He isn’t looking for a Superman or to be a Superman: he’s found his niche and he’s content to expand within it (the phrases “work ‘til I’m sore” and “soon run the store” imply pursuit of and acquiring of success).

   Ironically, however, in the early part of the song where he claims to relinquish his uniqueness, he is most unique. The intense introspection of the song reveals his seemingly unshakable grip on his personhood and the necessity of wrestling it into a fulfilling form. It’s not until he acknowledges “I know you will keep me on the shelf,” presumable speaking to himself, that he is able to find his orchard. Ultimately, the selfless subjection of his individual personhood/will comes when he stops trying so hard to make sense of it. He eventually understands he is holding himself in place: not the “men who move only in dim-lit halls” or even the spirit of the age which is telling him to be unique. He determines that “I’ll come back to you someday soon myself” – it’s time to stop worrying about being unique or about changing the world, but to find his plot of land and do the best he can with it. He doesn’t mindlessly give up his pondering of the cosmos: he acknowledge it isn’t always helpful, and waits to inform it with experience.

   The singer, then, comes to a place of no longer being “help-less.” He has the “gold hair” and he has his orchard and he has his dreams where he can keep an eye on them while not letting them drive him mad. He questions the good of “singing helplessness blues,” putting his helplessness on the shelf with his ceaseless, crippling questioning of existence. His refusal to wait for anyone else includes Superman, I think. (See, I brought it back around. Thanks for your patience.)

   Superman isn’t even on his radar anymore. The two might draw a modicum of encouragement from each other (experiencing the similar pressure of feeling isolated), but, really, they end up in entirely different places, in which they are both content. Superman comes to understand he will never be the simple human (member of a race) that he perhaps wants to be: he accepts the burden of uniqueness/greatness and his mission to serve the purpose beyond himself. The singer comes to understand that being a simple human is enough: he doesn’t have to save the world by himself or with others to have a valid existence; his purpose is love of the world he lives in through his working of it, while loving others, and learning from it.

   There’s no way to step around it: Superman is not actually a man, at the end of the day. He can’t sing the Helplessness Blues because he is neither falsely unique nor a part of a machine nor subject to the armies of night nor destined to work an orchard. Figures like him, and their prevalence in the singer’s society, contribute to the Helplessness Blues, as a standard of unique power the world is expected to strive to become.

   In the end, the sing hopes “Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen.” Maybe this is Superman, but I doubt it. The singer wants to have the influence that Superman has on the screen, to share his life with others in hope that other ponderers will find peace in a simple, well-lived, examined life. He wants to be like in his positive influence. He doesn’t actually want to be Superman.

   And now I’m done. Thoughts?

4. You win for “most thoughtful comment ever left on this blog.” A line by line analysis of HB warms my heart any day of the week.

   Since you took the time to do that, allow me to share the blog post about Helplessness Blues and Superman that I had half-finished and then decided probably wasn’t necessary to post. It takes the song and plots out a Superman movie from it, touching on the exact same lines you’re discussing, but each in a different way.

   It has much less to do with Superman feeling weak (which he isn’t) and much more to do with him not understanding his place in the larger order of things. Behold:

   —

   I’ve made no secret of my love for Fleet Foxes’ Helplessness Blues or my skepticism (although not despair) about the upcoming Superman reboot. But I never expected the two to intersect until I got in a massive twitter fight about what a new Superman movie should be.

   That’s when I realized that Superman is actually a perfect hero for our times, as described by Fleet Foxes. His loss is like our sense of nostalgia, his loneliness is like our displacement, and his powers are like our technology. Think about it … Superman was created in the Great Depression, as a symbol for displaced people, to demonstrate hope and power used for good. We’re in the Great Recession, feel displaced as a generation, and have more technological power at our fingertips than ever before. Superman might just be the ideal hero for the moment in which we find ourselves.

   All of which led me to wonder if the themes sung about in Helplessness Blues could be exactly the right themes for a Superman movie. So I listened to the song again (never a difficult task) and realized that it sets up the structure for a Superman movie quite beautifully. Ready for more over-analytical nerdiness? GREAT! Strap yourselves in, because heeeeeere’s how it goes:

   Starting assumptions:

   1. The song should be taken as literally as possible, in order to best communicate the themes it touches on.
   2. The “You” of the song is none other than Lois Lane: the movie is a song sung to her.
   3. Superman lives in Metropolis, a world very different from Batman’s Gotham. Where Gotham is essentially dark, Metropolis is essentially light. Where Gotham is overrun by psychopaths, Metropolis is threatened by aliens. Rather than a primarily realistic world, Superman exists in a primarily science-fiction world, being — himself — an alien.
   4. These are just the bare bones of a plotline, and would need a LOT of work to be shaken into a real movie. But I think there’s something there, nonetheless.

   FIRST ACT, VERSE 1: Self

   I was raised up believing I was somehow unique:
   The movie begins with an introduction to Superman’s upbringing in a brief way — possibly a montage showing childhood and adolescence, or possibly a conversation with Martha Kent about his youth. The point is, his past flashes by briefly, and brings us up to his current heroic status (rather than an origin story).

   Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you’d conceive:
   Facing an opening challenge — the reveal of Villain 1 (let’s call him Zod), Superman’s unique heroism is on display, especially to Lois. He saves her, then flies solo into an increasingly frigid landscape, until he enters the Fortress of Solitude. There, he confronts the recordings of his dead father and his loneliness as the last of his kind.

   And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be:
   He’s been thinking, questioning his identity — is he really what he should be as Superman? At the end of the day, no matter how super, he’s only one man, and the world is full of threats.

   A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me:
   Decision to not try operating independently anymore — submits his strength to a larger organization, run by none other than Villain 2 (let’s assume this is Lex Luthor, who has claimed to reform in light of the appearance of Villain 1).

   But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be:
   Not sure what he’s becoming as part of Lex’s force, feels like he’s sold his soul somewhat, but believes that he can no longer face the threat of Villain 1 solo.

   I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see:
   All of this is against Lois’ wishes, causing separation that he doesn’t want. She leaves, disappearing without word of where to find her.

   SECOND ACT, VERSE 2: Society

   What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do:
   Superman tries to fold into a larger organization, submitting his strength to what seems like a noble cause, but feels frustrated by the attempt.

   I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you:
   Accomplishes a victory against Zod for the sake of Lois, unleashing the full force of his fury in a way that is somewhat scary/dark.

   Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”:
   Withholding full cooperation from Lex Luthor, who is holding the reigns of his organization.

   To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me:
   Lex Luthor’s larger plans are revealed, and Superman realizes he was a fool to ever trust him.

   And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe:
   Disillusionment, confusion, on the run as Zod’s power grows.

   I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see:
   Attempts to find & restore relationship with Lois.

   VERSE 3: Reality

   If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see:
   Realizing his limitations as he cuts himself off from Lex Luthor and sees Zod gaining ground.
   
   Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak:
   Tries to fight Zod independently, but circumstances are out of control/too numerous for him to overcome.

   Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself:
   Trying to rise up against chaos — this all assumes that despite all Superman’s powers, Zod (as a fellow Kryptonian) is actually too much for him to handle by himself.

   What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?:
   Despite it being wiser to wait for the perfect timing, a frustrated Superman acts rashly, and finds Lois.

   And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf:
   Discovers Lois still cares about him

   I’ll come back to you someday soon myself:
   Reveals himself to her.

   INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE: Battle 1

   Finding Lois was a trap, and leads to a terrible battle. He defeats Zod, but is badly hurt in the process.

   THIRD ACT, VERSE 4: Reality, Society Restored

   If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m raw:
   Lois brings Superman to the Kent farm to heal.

   If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore:
   Healing, restoration.

   And you would wait tables and soon run the store:
   Weeks pass, and Lois thrives in Smallville, but chafes a little as they’re in hiding.

   Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn:
   Superman is healed, and is shown to be driven by his love of Lois.

   If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore:
   For a short time, he drifts into pastoral escapism, forgetting the world outside in the simplicity of the illusory life he and Lois have built on the farm.

   If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore:
   The “if” is emphasized — he realizes he can’t stay.

   INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE: Departure, Battle 2

   Becomes aware of how imperiled the rest of the world has become due to his absence — realization of necessity to depart, protect. Sorrow at loss of simple life with Lois on the Kent farm.
   Final battle with Lex Luthor.

   EPILOGUE: Self Restored

   Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen:
   He flies Lois to the Fortress of Solutide, where he shows her the images of his father, who represents all that he has ever wanted to be. But since he’s showing her, and bringing her into his sorrow and community, he’s helped.

5. Interesting. Good thoughts. I guess we will both soon see if Superman can once more bring hope to the beleaguered masses.

6. I don’t know about you, but I thought the latest trailer actually kinda hit the nail on the head. Didn’t have Batman’s darkness or Zack Snyder’s silliness. I may have to eat my hat.