Challengers Of The Unknown

It's difficult to find people who have experienced the odd sensations that DC Comics used to produce before their Vertigo line was launched. They had Challengers of the Unknown and Doom Patrol, two of the weirdest superhero titles ever. It's normally easy to separate the superhero and weird genres, but the question of where to put surreal heroes is somewhat different. (In a sense, DC is a more 'Brit' company than Marvel - just as Spike in Buffy The Vampire Slayer is a more 'Brit' vampire. Some day I'll explain the factors which make things more Bri'ish than Amairicain.)

What I really liked about these odd and not very popular titles was that they featured heroes to whom hero-hood was a burden, who would rather not be contending with the intrusions of the unknown and yet were duty-bound to do so. They were subversive heroes, somehow subverting the ideal of heroism while being heroes. And that's where, sometimes, true heroism and faux heroism part ways: the ideal of heroism, self-sacrifice, nobility in defeat and largesse in victory and so on - this stuff isn't what real heroism often is. Real heroism is quite often a mixture of painful necessary sacrifice, agony in defeat, relief in victory, a sense of having done one's duty without any particular joy and "could the world please go away, I need a break and a long sleep."

We challenge the unknown, and that is romantic and attractive to others. But it is dangerous, painful, difficult, and bears little inherent or likely reward. It is hope against hope that reason will triumph always over chaos. The challenge often fails. Sometimes, we who challenge the unknown also fail, and once in a while, someone else will have to pick over our remains and let the grass cover it all. If we have done it for anyone except ourselves, that isn't likely to be recognized, and nobody will remember where our graves are hidden. Too bad. We don't mourn ourselves either. And life rolls on, inexorable.