“You know it, you show it.
The time has come to shoot you down, what a sound.
When the day is done and it all works out.
I’d love to do it and you know you’ve always had it coming.”
–The Stone Roses, Shoot You Down, 1989.

With issue 6 of Final Crisis having just recently been released to the public, this is as timely a moment as ever to fully examine the cause and effect of cross-over continuity. For those who are not aware (I envy you), in issue 6 of the cross-over wet dream dubbed “Final Crisis”, it turns out that the title is for once a truthful description of the content within. Unfortunately it is for all the wrong reasons. Morrison finally makes good on his insinuations and boasting to kill The Batman. So in defense of Earth and all the Earthlings that inhabit its densely super-hero populated surface Batman is shot with the Omega Sanction, a Science Fiction conceit which is said to subject the victim to infinite lives of suffering each more heinous than the last. We get that iconic panel of Superman holding Batman’s charred corpse in the aftermath and we are left to wonder how Batman could possibly come back from this.

Well there are three ways in which Batman could return to the world of the living:

1) Go the Dallas route and say it was all a dream.
2) Reboot the DC Universe.
3) Have Batman “defeat death” and return to his body.

Now, choices one and two are clear cop-outs and choice number three is in direct contradiction with the most important element of Batman from which everything else flows: his mortality.

You will find a slew of apologists trying to spin the reality of Morrison’s “epic story” into something more palatable in order to retain their credibility and ability to judge what is or is not a true interpretation of Batman. The most intellectually offensive of these spin doctor-isms is the notion that Batman is not really dead. In order for one to make this assertion, one must take into account a supernatural resolution. Stating that the Omega Sanction does not actually kill the victim but merely traps their consciousness in a hellish limbo is a supernatural proposition. Scientifically speaking, consciousness existing apart from the brain is something which seems to be an increasingly dubious proposition.

As Sam Harris writes in The End of Faith, in the notes to p208 :

“What happens after death is surely a mystery, as is the relationship between consciousness and the physical world, but there is no longer any doubt whether the character of our minds is dependent upon the functioning of our brains- and dependent in ways that are profoundly counterintuitive. Consider one of the common features of the near-death experience: the nearly dying seem regularly to encounter their loved ones who have gone before them into the next world. See A. Kellehear, Experiences Near Death: Beyond Medicine and Religion (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1996). We know however, that recognizing a person’s face requires an intact fusiform cortex, primarily in the right hemisphere. Damage to this area of the brain definitely robs the mind of its powers of facial recognition (among other things), a condition we call prosopagnosia. People with this condition have nothing wrong with their primary vision. They can see color and shape perfectly well. They can recognize almost everything in their environment, but they cannot distinguish between the faces of even their closest friends and family members. Are we to imagine in such cases that a person possess an intact soul, somewhere behind the mind, that retains the ability to recognize his loved ones? It would seem so. Indeed, unless the soul retains all of the normal cognitive and perceptual capacities of the healthy brain, heaven would be populated by beings suffering from all manner of neurological deficit. But then, what are we to think of the condition of the neurologically impaired while alive? Does a person suffering from aphasia have a soul that can speak, read, and think flawlessly? Does a person whose motor skills have been degraded by cerebellar ataxia have a soul which preserved hand-eye coordination? This is rather like believing that inside every wrecked car lurks a new car just waiting to get out.

The implausibility of a soul whose powers are independent of the brain only increases once we recognize that even normal brains can be placed somewhere on a continuum of pathology. I know my soul speaks English, because that is the language that comes out of me whenever I speak or write. I used to know a fair amount of French as well. It seems that I’ve forgotten most of it, though, since my attempts at communication while in France provoke little more than amusement and consternation in the natives. We know, however, that the difference between my remembering something is a matter of physical differences in the neural circuits in my brain- specifically in the synaptic connections that are responsible for information encoding, information retrieval, or both. My loss of French, therefore, can be considered a form of neurological impairment. And any Frenchman who found his linguistic ability suddenly degraded to the level of my own would rush straight too the hospital. Would his soul retain his linguistic ability in any case? Has my soul retained its memory of how to conjugate the verb bruire? Where does this notion of soul-brain independence end? A native speaker of one of the Bantu languages would find that the functioning of my language cortex leaves even more to be desired. Given that I was never exposed to Bantu as a child, it is almost certain that I would find it difficult in the extreme, if not impossible, to distinguish between them, much less reproduce them in a way that would satisfy a native speaker. But perhaps my soul has mastered the Bantu languages as well. There are only five hundred of them.”

Please forgive me the length of the quotation above but it is necessary to highlight the absurdity of suggesting that a Batman whose consciousness travels through a series of devious metaphysical trials is any more realistic than a Batman who simply rises from the dead due to the power of his will (of steel? Thanks Nigel). Batman’s body is burnt and useless; his brain, his heart, and his lungs have been put beyond repair. In any mortal, materialist or physical sense Batman is dead. D.E.A.D. Dead. Even if our consciousness were a separate entity from the brain, the ability to objectively point to it as acceptable reality jars with a serious lack of reliable study or evidence. An existence out of body (when the body is beyond repair for the trip home) is so far beyond being representative of mortality that it makes the “explanation” offered by the “Batman Isn’t Dead!” crowd even more fatuous.

Now Morrison (or his apologists) may tell you that Final Crisis was never intended to be a realistic story. It does not attempt to be based in reality. This is a perfectly laudable aim for a Science-Fiction/Fantasy story. The problem is that Batman is a realistic character. Everything from his foundation upwards, including his rogues gallery, gadgets, emphasis on brain power and detection work stems from his mortality. The odds with a city full of mortal criminals are already great enough so that Batman has to redress the balance. He can’t take the same risks as a Superman or a Green Lantern. A normal criminal with a gun in his hand still poses a lethal, life or death problem for Batman. This was most beautifully portrayed in the Black and White Volume 1 story, “An Innocent Guy”, by Brian Bolland .

If Batman is to die then he should die on the streets of Gotham. Why did Bruce Wayne take on the cape and the cowl in the first place? Was it because he was shot in a space ship to earth from another planet? No, it was because his mother and his father while walking the streets of Gotham with their son, were shot down by a petty criminal for money. A small, simple, believable crime. His parents were both taken from him in an otherwise insignificant moment in time. Within a couple of minutes, his parents had become victims of mortality.

Bruce Wayne’s transformation into Batman is in a sense a rejection of mortality or a rallying against it. As an icon, he can live forever. Bruce however forever remains a mortal man and the greatest story arcs have known this. It was the fragility of human life which created a Batman. It is the fact that he represents that same fragility every time he fights to preserve life in Gotham which makes him a hero. If he was playing with a stacked deck and he possessed supernatural rejuvenation powers (as in coming back from the dead), he is no longer representative of or speaks for the mortality which created him.

Superman is not a mortal, at least not in the accepted sense of the word. A better way to put it is he is not natural. He possesses a life span which far exceeds that of humanity, along with a healthy dose of powers which completely contradict the nature of reality as we now know it. So as a supernatural hero, who so obviously towers over the human race on Earth requires competition. You can’t place him in amongst a nearly exclusively natural (or mortal) set of villains for he is their superior about a thousand times over in battle. So you need to up the stakes. You need to introduce villains who are either of comparable ability or of superior ability (as it was with Doomsday).

Superman’s villains are nearly wholly creatures or people who are supernatural. Lex Luthor is the exception. Much in the same way that Batman has characters with a supernatural edge, Superman features characters with a natural edge. Luthor is the exception to the rule and his mortality is only ever emphasized in a way so as to “sell” the abilities of Superman. In a sense Luthor is far more acceptable a protagonist because you have already established a “normal” world which is upset by the arrival of Superman. So a certain kind of mortality is already in play. It is however a mortality which exists in a world where the supernatural is common place. Luthor takes advantage of this, whether through technology or alien allies. He is a mortal in a supernatural world.

Characters such as the modern Clayface, Man-Bat, R’as-Al-Ghul and the elements which they bring to the table are quite different in terms of the implications which they introduce to Batman and Gotham. For one the context in which they are placed is one which emphasizes how they veer from the norm. Just as the “natural” characters in Superman are there to “sell” his abilities, these supernatural characters are here to “sell” Batman’s abilities. They are intruders into a structured, believable reality. Look to Matt Wagner in his re-interpretations of the Monster Men/Mad Monk stories for the way in which supernatural elements are reined into a realistic setting without compromising the integrity of the lead character or of the setting. They are shown as incredible, unbelievable creations because that’s what they are.

Batman is as incredulous as his audience in these stories. He also approaches them from a scientific perspective. He does not disregard reality because of the fanciful things he sees but looks at them with an ever questioning eye and endeavors to discover how they fit into reality. This is somewhat tempered by some odious little references to Superman in Monster Men/Mad Monk/Dark Moon Rising (again an objectionable example of the childish need for continuity contradicting a story’s reality) but basically the key tenets of the characters are maintained.

I think it is important to define mortality in order to fully frame this objection to Final Crisis:

the state or condition of being subject to death; mortal character, nature, or existence.

Being a mortal man always meant that Bruce Wayne was subject to the same strict limitations that we are all subject to. The connection that many people have felt with Batman on this level alone cannot be overestimated. Batman is one of us. He can be shot, he can be stabbed, he can fall down the stairs and break his neck. The majority of the villains who populate Gotham are geared towards these limitations, just as Metropolis’ villains were created to bring out the best in Superman. Is The Joker a supernatural being? Is the Riddler? Is Catwoman? The psychological aspect was always the main emphasis due to Batman’s mortality. You pick the villains best able to draw these elements out of your main character in the most compelling way. And if those defending Final Crisis were honest with themselves, I think they would find that Darkseid is completely at odds with the most compelling elements of Batman.

Final Crisis completely disregards this most significant component in the Batman mythology. What happens after death is something which no mortal person can conceivably know. It is something which no living individual has first hand, accurate or detailed evidence about. To speak either of a metaphysical reality or an after-life as being provable fact is something which no-one can do with any degree of credibility. To state that Batman is existing in a meta-physical hell as objective truth is in itself placing Batman in the role of a super-natural warrior for it claims something which is completely at odds with how we perceive reality in a mortal or natural sense.

I am of the belief that Batman and his mythology are considerably malleable. I take no issue with those who prefer to read stories which feature Batman fighting aliens rather than fighting mafia thugs. The problem with cross-overs, cross-title and general continuity is that the practicalities of a Final Crisis mean that the story itself is set up to deliberately bleed over into all other comic books which adhere to the rule of continuity (which is most of them). It must also be stated that as far as the authenticity of Batman as seen in Final Crisis, it is far more a departure than either Batman Returns or Batman and Robin or any other vocally loathed version of Batman. The negative effects of these two films are basically isolated to their respective running times. There was no ruling which said that Christopher Nolan had to put nipples on his batsuit or include Penguin as a freak. The negative effects of Final Crisis are going to last for over year.

Take any possible vision in your head and it would be equally as valid. For when you cross the supernatural line (as Final Crisis undoubtedly does) with Batman, you cross something which is more important to the core of the character than his gender, his age, the city in which he lives, the villains which populate his world or any alterations to them.

Final Crisis may be a well written piece of DCU lore but it is also a tremendously solipsistic, selfish and corrosive piece of work. As a stand-alone story, it would not bother me in the least. As a story which existed in its own world while the Batman monthlies existed in their’s, it would not even register. I love the Elseworlds’ stories.
I fully support artistic interpretation and an allowance for characters to be built upon. Final Crisis however is not happy to remain within its own world, and frankly neither are its fans. Final Crisis dictates policy. It sets down an edict for all titles within continuity to adhere to.

1) Batman died at the hands of a supernatural creature in a supernatural setting.
2) The DCU overrides everything that could possibly occur within Gotham.
3) Every Batman related title inside of continuity will have to reference this, either explicitly or implicitly through the absence of the main character.
4) Any return, as stated previously, must be supernatural in nature. So if Batman is to “return home”, he will be radically altered.

These four implications (there are more) are galling enough without having to take into consideration that these are all artificially imposed and have no adequate creative  reasoning, past the financial benefits of these events. There is NO REASON. I repeat, no reason, for Detective or The Outsiders or hell, let me be so bold, Batman to be included and implicated in the events of Final Crisis. It was quite possible to maintain both realities simultaneously. We are not children. We understand that this is not reality. So why are we treated like infants of small intellectual faculties? Those who are fans of the DCU stories can have their Batman and we who appreciate the reality foundation (on which the character was created from) can have ours. You can do both, at the same time (and why do all of these events have to be supernatural?) Any attempts to accommodate something similar to this vision have, ironically -as with Morrison and Waid’s attempts to solve this creative quandary with Hypertime - been met with pig-headed, child-like objections from the continuity porn crowd. “But I want everything to fit together!” Minds which are (despite their protestations to the opposite) less able to deal with differing visions of a character than their opposition.

It may sound reasonable to put forward the notion that it is possible to use The Batman in a multitude of ways when referencing Final Crisis. If you’re really lucky you may get an admission of “both points are valid”. Here’s the kicker though: a story which veers into the fantastic like Final Crisis and which insists upon other titles following its lead will always be to the detriment of the realistic. Always. Not to say that the opposite cannot be true. A mandate being forced on a writer in respect to continuity is rarely a good thing for creativity. As an example of how a need for “everything to fit together” hampered a supernatural story, let’s take a look at an interview with Neil Gaiman about his work on the Marvel property Eternals with Spotlight, as reprinted in the first volume of Eternals:

SPOTLIGHT: Did you have a similar history with The Eternals, of reading them when they were first published, of being entranced by their “Kirbyish” power, or are you coming to this project fresh without any previous exposure?

NEIL: I picked up Eternals when I was… how old? I suppose I would have been fifteen or sixteen when Eternals came out. I was a huge Kirby fan. He’d just gone back to Marvel after the Fourth World at DC Comics had sort of expired. He’d done a rather odd and unsatisfying Captain America run, which I had picked up simply because it was Kirby. And then, he did some 2001 stuff, and then Eternals came along, which seemed - at least at the beginning- to be Jack taking a lot of his energy from his work on 2001 (you could tell that’s where his head had gone), and also, partly energy from some leftover Fourth Worldly stuff… and also that sort of Erich von Daniken spin. He took all that and started doing something with it. And even at the time, on one hand I really liked it, and on the other hand there seemed to be a few things that were very odd about it. Chiefly- and this is interesting because in some ways, it’s something I’ve had to cope with - the Eternals were obviously by definition were not meant to be part of the Marvel Universe, except even back then he was getting pressure to make them part of the Marvel Universe.

SPOTLIGHT: The letters page for The Eternals back then were aflame with controversy over that particular point.

NEIL: And he got around it in interesting ways. He had some SHIELD agents come around in the early issues, and the Hulk comes in for a guest shot, but it’s a mechanical Hulk! (Laughter.) A kid gets turned into the Thing for a panel but you genuinely can’t tell if it’s a comics character or not. But you know, I thought it was played very well, and then after it ended, and you could see the plug getting pulled on this thing just as it was really getting going, then you get various Marvel attempts to fold the Eternals into the Marvel Universe, which is right up there with trying to crossbreed a prize greyhound with Gibbon’s The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. You know, you just sit there going, “Uhhhh…noooo…something is….how do they think….bleh” (Laughter.) The attempts to do it sort of mucked things up a lot in terms of muddying the water of what made the Eternals interesting anyway.

—-

SPOTLIGHT: As it was, it only lasted for nineteen issues and a double-sized Annual, but if given the chance to flourish under its own device, it might have gone on even longer.

NEIL: I like to think so. So what I did, then, was basically turn around to Marvel and basically say, “Okay, in terms of what Jack has done in Eternals, which bits of that can I use? What is actual canon in the Marvel Universe?” They mentioned that they were very concerned about Celestials creating humanity. They said, “Nope! Cellestials definitely didn’t create humanity, but they did create the Eternals and the Deviants!” And I said, “Oh, okay, well I can work with that!” And after that, it was really just, for me, a matter of coming in with a bunch of ideas that would allow me to go and play with the Eternals, play with some of the ideas that Jack had begun, change some things, fix some things, totally mess with some things.

—-

Where as a supernatural story’s scope may be reined in due to continuity, the supernatural story is undoubtedly far more resilient when it comes to suffering negative effects from cross-overs, inner-title or continuity in general. The negative effects are disproportionately felt on titles where realism is the focus and thus why Final Crisis gains quite a bit from the inclusion of Batman where as the Batman titles are actively retarded.

One of the primary defenses of a stunt such as Final Crisis or the slavish commitment to continuity past any other concerns is the notion that it has a long history. After all, haven’t there been a host of outright supernatural elements of Batman (especially in the 60s) through the decades? First of all, the length of a practice or custom does not give it a special credence or credibility. Secondly, if similar (or graver) follies have been recorded over the preceding decades then that provides an even greater impetus to set it right.

It is also true that within “the system” we have been given a great amount of worthy, beautiful, legendary story arcs. I will argue however that this is absolutely no sign that “the system” was either the result of such creativity or that “the system” was actively aiding the artists in any significant manner. Quite the opposite, I believe that these great story arcs, moments of clarity or genius were often in spite of the commitment to cross-title continuity.

Let’s look at it from a perspective of art created at the request of or funded by religious institutions. Some commentators suggest that the plethora of great artists - musicians, painters, poets, writers - who were also in some sense “believers” or on the payroll of religious figureheads is a sign of the inherent goodness of religious belief; that without religion Michelangelo could not have painted the Sistine Chapel. This is of course something which fails to acknowledge that everyone was at that point in time in some sense a believer, at least publicly. The money was in the hands of the religious institutions. If an artist wanted to get paid, he would most likely be working in some religious capacity. There is no way to know what Michelangelo could have done in a secular society, so it is foolish to suggest that the prominence of religious belief was the cause of his talent. What we do know for sure is that many writers and artists were silenced precisely due to their inability to fit into this system. So we undoubtedly lost talent which was at odds with the sensibilities of the time. In the same way I think we can take for granted that the system of continuity has equally quashed talent that didn’t gel with its rules and regulations.

Continuity as seen through Final Crisis is in many ways comparable to the dogma of religious belief. It lays down the mortal sins, the hierarchy of importance, the sheep and the shepards. Its word is indeed FINAL inside of continuity. It is horrendously self-centered in its aims. “Take therefore no thought for the morrow”. Everything must fall in line, from the readers to the writers to the artists. “You don’t like it? TOUGH SHIT. You’ll take what you’re given.” Final Crisis does not care for the titles which have died so that it can rule over all it sees. Equally the defenders of Final Crisis do not care for these titles. They have their enjoyment, that’s all that matters. Morrison got to tell his story, that’s all that matters. DiDio got to boost sales, that’s all that matters.

I disagree, it’s Batman; Batman is all that matters. And Batman is now crippled, he exists only as an unidentifiable supernatural Jekyll and Hyde metamorphosis; a Grant Morrison wet dream; a contradiction so complete that any thinkable characterization is now permissible. Not only permissible but immediately accepted into canon, if there is to be a consistency in the community who parades Morrison’s vision around as truth. We know however that consistency is not their strength, even though it is what they desire most.