We are drawn to each other as a society, as a collective and as the tribe of humanity, yet we fear each other individually – at least that is the picture we currently project into the mirror of science fiction - on screen, online and in print.
Going back to 1726 or 1735, in the fantastic story tradition
of sci-fi, Gulliver’s Travels showed us the strange and petty interaction
between societal factions. Jules Verne (1860+) rightly predicted that
technology would enhance our hubris as it enhanced our lives.
Of course the 1950s brought us the communist scare
allegories like The Blob, The Thing and The Invasion of Body Snatchers. We were
afraid of losing ourselves or our neighbors becoming someone/something else.
But it wasn’t about monsters or outer space, it was about us.
Superman inspired our morality, Batman our resiliency.
Wonder Woman had strength and showed being a hero included everyone.
Sci-fi, which started as fantasy stories soon discovered that
the genre had the ability to abandon all social, scientific, historic and
thematic constructs.
Then, television brought us Star Trek, which was initially
envisioned as cowboys in space. It soon
became obvious that being free of real world conventions allowed Gene
Rodenberry to stealthily open a window on a turbulent time in America.
Star Wars introduced much of the world to the idea that
heroes were not perfect and our quests are not necessarily of our choosing, but
ours all the same.
From the mind of Stan Lee we are now immersed in the Marvel
universe. A place where heroes are not
only imperfect, they are deeply flawed and troubled with hidden powers and
gifts, a place where the porous fabric of reality lets evil leak in from
unexpected places. A place not unlike ours, where evil seeps into life and maybe a place where deeply flawed people
can be heroes too. Maybe.


