The Batmom

CBV Reads Batgirl #4: An End to Dreams

COVERGIRL: The Mirror is shattered. Batgirl is on top. GOTCHA bad man.

INSIDE STORY: The first page of issue #4 spoke so eloquently about Batgirl’s inner state, I almost wish it had been the cover.

Batgirl, in uniform, sits in her wheelchair, a perfect visual expression of the devil’s chatter in her head: You’re not ready for battle. You might get shot again. Doing nothing is safe.

Turns out, she’s experiencing a recurring nightmare starring Batgirl-on-wheels, Barbara Gordon, and The Mirror.

The motif of superhero-as-loner, whose fight is mostly about good vs. evil but is also an escape from inner demons, gets full play in this holiday issue. Barbara bonds with roomate Alysia in front of the Christmas tree, but when life-story-swapping gets too painful, she flees the tree, dons the latex, and swings onto the mean streets of Gotham to work it all out, eventually meeting up with her nemesis Mirror at a crumbling amusement park.

My dad, to be referred to forthwith as Comic Book Dad, was a comic book reader back in the ‘40s. Since I started writing CBV, we have enjoyed wide-ranging discussions of the current iteration of some of his old favorites as well as conversations about the superheroines I follow.

I told him that, in some ways, Batgirl is the most traditional of my books. The Mirror springs from a comic villain textbook (which is one reason I love to hate him) and Gail Simone is, I presume, having fun placing a newly invented, 21^st century Batgirl into some old familiar Bat-uations. Such as facing villains at run-down carnivals. Specifically, in the Hall of Mirrors. Get it? Mirror? Mirrors?

Also, because fighting glass villains in glass houses makes for awesome sound-effect words such as KKERRRAASSSH.

Ultimately, Batgirl has her day in the dark, smashing the Mirror and delivering a quick speech about how bad things happen to good people. Her speech (and Gail Simone’s writing) proves more eloquent than mine, so I’ll quote. Per usual, Batgirl talks not only to The Mirror, but to herself.

“Sometimes extraordinary things happen to the very worst people, and the best people suffer. And sometimes, people get their miracles whether they deserve them or not. Whether they deserve them. Or not. Believe me. I know.”

Having sufficiently exercised and exorcised, Batgirl allows herself a merry, quiet Christmas at home with her new BFF Alysia. Then the doorbell rings.

It’s Mrs. Garrett from Facts of Life!

She looks like Charlotte Rae, but she's not Charlotte Rae.

She's ... Batgirl’s mother!

CBV Reads Batgirl #3: A Breath of Broken Glass

COVERGIRL: Batgirl’s strongest appearance. She’s back to gymnastics, but she’s battling, not performing. A surprise: She’s swinging her super-boots into the face of a handsome devil the cover identifies as Nightwing. Good guy or bad?

INSIDE STORY: Good guy. Once known as Robin and fellow former student of The Batman. A handsome, superheroic rogue with a wealthy alter ego, Richard Grayson, Nightwing occupies several pages and a hunk of BG’s mental and emotional energy in issue #3. He provides a welcome interruption from the twisted moralistic grumpitude of The Mirror and allows BG to further reflect on her current state.

BUT FIRST, before Batgirl gets violently flirtatious with her old training buddy, she races to find a bomb the Mirror's planted on a subway train. He’s provided her an earpiece so he can mutter wicked nothings while she works. Using her strong mind, she believes she's outwitted her enemy, but as she crows victory aboard one train, she watches a passing train explode.

“How quickly our self-regard shifts," she muses as sparks fly and lives end. "Right away into nothing, sometimes.”

Simone’s writing repeatedly edges toward poetry in issue 3 as Batgirl blossoms into a superheroic everywoman. I can't rock the superhero spandex, but I can relate to her inner struggles.

After the Mirror crushes her spirit and kills the requisite trainload of innocents, Batgirl runs to daddy, aka Commissioner Gordon, who is too busy dealing with the explosion's aftermath to take her out for pierogis.

Giving up on her dreams of Polish ravioli, Batgirl meets up with Nightwing, former crush and current stalker. She reminisces about their early days training and flirting and, when she discovers he’s there to make sure she’s capable of returning to the field of battle, tries to beat him to a pulp.

BG, who ‘til this point has fought with more determination, less gut-driven anger, starts angrily pummeling Nightwing until he says he and Batman love her and want to make sure she’s okay. She settles down, then tells him she needs to smash The Mirror solo.

Nightwing concedes and conducts a most excellent exit maneuver, handspringing off the edge of a Gotham skyscraper into the smoky mist.

 

 

CBV Reads Batgirl #2: Cut Short, Cut Deep

COVERGIRL: Batgirl looks scared. She’s crouching behind cemetery statuary on a gloomy night, hiding from the gun-wielding Mirror. She also looks determined. Scared and determined and young. This cover says a lot, especially when compared to last issue’s White Strips commercial.

INSIDE STORY: But first, a note. Since I dove into this pop-art-splattered universe a short while back, I have come across Gail Simone’s name repeatedly. Most recently, I read some-but-not-all of USA Today’s story “Batgirl rebounds from controversy to newfound popularity.” Didn’t read all because I didn’t want to find out anything about #3 or #4.

Red-headed Simone, one of current Batgirl’s creators, arrived at the Land of Comics at a young age because of red-headed Batgirl. This makes me want to love Batgirl. And also led me to Simone’s twitter feed, which is hilarious. Go follow @GailSimone.

Okay, back to Barbara Gordon, aka BATGIRL.

Batgirl remains determined to stop The Mirror. The reflective bad man is running around town killing people who, he believes, previously cheated death. Like he did when everyone in his family died in a car crash (explosion?). Except him.

Comic book creators always seems to provide a humanizing explanation for super villains' deviant ways. I assume this holds true throughout the comic book world. I’ll find out.

Batgirl remains rusty. And chatty. She’s not in control. She moves too quickly and THUMPs The Mirror. Unwisely, she buys his false plea for help as he dangles from a ledge and she ends up plummeting street-ward through the rain.

But in addition to stumbling, Batgirl’s actively working it out, verbally and physically. She’s smart and well equipped, relying on quick physics and cool gadgets to break her plummet. She acknowledges she’s weaker than Batman, and must rely more on her brains and less on her brawn.

I like BG’s ongoing inner monologue, listening to and watching her analyze her own performance. It reveals her ability to honestly assess herself – to her benefit and the Mirror’s deficit – and to think extremely quickly and intelligently, a trait she shares with the Batman.

While I wasn’t sure about the quips in issue #1, I’m finding them a welcome insertion into all the self-analysis in issue #2. Batman, from what little I know of him, can get overly broody. Batgirl’s broody but broody like a Carrie Fisher memoir – at once dark and light.

Retreating to her local library, not the Batcave, Barbara figures out her nemesis is federal agent and war hero Jonathan Mills, whose wealthy wife Shandra and twin girls died in a car accident .... or an explosion rigged by the mob.

Jonathan feels he should have perished. And so he will kill all those he believes should have perished in other mishaps. Such as Barbara Gordon, who should have died at the Joker’s hand.

In case you were wondering what he looks like, the Mirror cuts a somewhat Dickensian figure. Think Scrooge’s Ghost of Christmas future, minus bony pointer finger, plus killer biceps, a shield that looks like my bathroom mirror, and a black cape with a reflective surface underneath.

Also this issue: Batgirl’s dad, he of the Selleck-esque ‘stache, comforts the cop from issue #1, the woman who lost her partner. She tells Gordon he needs to put out a warrant for Batgirl. AKA his daughter.

Writing about comics requires near-excessive use of AKA. Whenever I type it, I hear 

DumDumDummmm in my head.

 

Also this issue: Barbara’s roommate Alysia tends (toughly and roughly) to Barbara’s wounds, wondering why she’s injured but suspecting abuse, not superheroics. And Batgirl goes on a date with her physical therapist.

Who will no doubt turn out to be The Mirror.