There’s been a lot of talk about the differences between the Marvel and DC cinematic universes as more movies by the latter have come out. Marvel’s universe is “lighter” – brighter, and faster, and more fun, and more optimistic – while DC’s universe is “darker” – gritty and desaturated and pessimistic, lingering on destruction. There’s merit in these arguments: the two franchises do come off as different, on that level.
I’d argue, though, that they are still both dealing with superhero narratives – and the superhero narrative is fundamentally an optimistic one.
Think about it. A superhero is a person who somehow obtains ridiculous powers that puts them instantly in a weight class above the average human being — and they choose NOT to take advantage of that fact to do whatever they want. Supervillains are the people who do that, and they’re the ones who — eventually — get punched in the head and defeated. Superheroes are about having power and not misusing it. They’re about being special, and not being a jerk to other people because of it. They’re about choosing to do good.
In the real world, the closest anyone can come to having superpowers is to be wealthy, which plays into the same questions of power: how much a billionaire can get away with, whether or not they’re above other people, how the money was gained and who might have risen or suffered because of it. In the real world, the results tend to be a bit of a crapshoot. In superhero stories (which have their share of wealthy protagonists), there’s always someone who funnels their power into helping the little guy. Always.
Now, there are deconstructions of the genre that take a more cynical view, of course, and it’s possible to tell dark superhero tales where those with power lose their way and take advantage of those around them. Marvel’s superheroes are perhaps more prone to making mistakes, while DC’s might be more prone to growing remote from the concerns of the people they protect, but the end result tends to be similar: things get worse, innocents get hurt, much anguish is had, humanity seeks desperately for someone else to take on the new menace and it’s all terribly bleak…
…but, eventually, things pretty much always get better. It helps that evil is fundamentally punchable, once you figure out who/what needs punching and where the head is. It helps that violence is so often the best answer.
The Interminables is a superhero story. Its protagonists have ridiculous powers, both supernatural and more mundane, and they try to use them for good. They fight evil, which also has ridiculous powers and could really use some punching. Things are bad but they do get better. The Hour Thief even wears a cape and mask (which his beat partner, who predates the whole American superhero thing and isn’t American, thinks is ridiculous).
The difference is that, while the story is a superhero story, the world isn’t a superhero world. It doesn’t play by those convenient narrative rules where it’s assumed that there’s always someone to fix up those buildings that get knocked down. Edmund and Istvan are extremely powerful — and frightened of it. They’re pretty good at violence (in Istvan’s case, VERY good at violence), but that’s less help than they would like. Evil is hard to punch and be done with. Their struggles are to understand, and compromise, and make the best of bad situations, and then deal with the consequences and each other.
It’s still optimistic, don’t get me wrong, but on a different level. It’s more mundane. It’s the kind of optimism that comes from knowing that you’ve fed the cat, and that’s one more thing off the list, and yeah, you can probably get through today.
If that sounds vaguely familiar, it’s because of Spider-Man. That guy has to pay rent. That guy does not have an unlimited data plan. That guy was the first of his kind. Take Spider-Man, punch up the ridiculous powers and scope to the level of Superman, and drop him in a world dominated less by supervillains and more by highly political telenovela drama (the wizard president did what?), and that’s The Interminables.
It’s 2020, and a magical cataclysm has shattered reality as we know it. Now a wizard’s cabal is running the East Coast of the US, keeping a semblance of peace.
Their most powerful agents, Edmund and Istvan — the former a nearly immortal 1940s-era mystery man, the latter, well, a ghost — have been assigned to hunt down an arms smuggling ring that could blow up Massachusetts.
Turns out the mission’s more complicated than it seemed. They discover a shadow war that’s been waged since the world ended, and, even worse, they find out that their own friendship has always been more complicated than they thought. To get out of this alive, they’ll need to get over their feelings, their memories, and the threat of a monstrous foe who’s getting ready to commit mass murder…
About Paige
Paige Orwin was born in Utah, to her great surprise. At the age of nine she arranged to rectify the situation. She now lives in Washington state, next to a public ferry terminal and a great deal of road construction, and has never regretted the decision.
She is the proud owner of a BA in English and Spanish from the University of Idaho, which thus far has not proven terrifically useful for job prospects but she knew the risks of a humanities degree going in. She also survived the 8.8 Chilean earthquake in 2010, which occurred two days after her arrival in the country (being stubborn, she stayed an entire year anyway).
She began writing The Interminables when her favorite video game, City of Heroes, was shut down in late 2012.
Her partner in crime wants a cat. This, thus far, has not happened.
