BATMAN KNIGHTFALL - Book review

 

Dennis O’Neil’s novel Batman Knightfall was published in 1994 and was mainly adapted from a story arc serialised in the following DC comics, many of which he edited: Batman, Batman: Shadow of the Bat, Detective Comics, Legends of the Dark Knight, and Robin; with additional material from Batman: Venom, Batman: Sword of Azrael, and Batman: Vengeance of Bane – all published between 1991 to 1994. I read the series at the time but have only now got round to this book. (My TBR pile is enormous!)

Way back then O’Neil and his other editors wondered, after the release of the Batman Returns movie, that there was a risk of saturation, scaring off potential readers. Also, there was a feeling that in the time of Eastwood, Schwartzenegger et al piling high corpses maybe Batman was an anachronism, even passé – especially as the caped hero would never kill. They decided to test the concept with the Knightfall story arc. The readership response was conclusive: they wanted a ‘Batman who was avenging and compassionate. The Batman archetype is the creature of darkness who serves the common good, the devil on an angel’s mission’ (p349).

The familiar characters in the comics are here; firstly, Commissioner Gordon: ‘… sometimes he despised himself for his reliance on the masked vigilante, but he knew that without Batman, his job would be impossible. Gotham City hadn’t had an honest government since the Civil War… Batman was necessary – a necessary evil… if Batman’s a devil, he’s my devil. I’ve made a pact with him and I’ll keep it. Until he steps over the line. Until he kills someone. And then? The day that happens it’ll be the end for both of us, and probably for the city, too’ (p11).

There are appropriate dark moments in the tale, but there’s also banter and wit: it’s become a cliché almost that after Gordon’s meeting with Batman the Dark Knight would tends to vanish. ‘I’ve finally figured out how you do that. You’re one of those ninjas, aren’t you? You learned it in Japan.’

Batman said, ‘Correspondence course. It was either ninja or air-conditioning repair, and I already had a black suit.’ (p24).

At this time, Tim Drake is the third incarnation of Robin. The first, Dick Grayson, naturally grew older and became crime-fighter Nightwing. Jason Todd, the second, was killed by The Joker. The Drake family lives close to Wayne Manor, which is handy. Tim is still a novice Robin, but a fast learner.

At the beginning, the criminal psychopath Bane crosses paths with Batman and escapes. Bane realises that if he wants to control Gotham, he must first get rid of the Dark Knight. So he embarks on his strategy, diverting Batman to numerous crime scenes, to fight felons; and eventually he even releases several terrible criminals from Arkham Asylum. Finally, Batman confronts Bane and in his worn-out frazzled state is no match and his back is broken. Bane contemptuously dumps Batman in the street.

Alfred and Tim find Batman and take him to the Cave and thence to hospital, pretending that Bruce Wayne had a serious RTA. Bruce is worried, however; although he has apprehended several escapees from Arkham, there are others still on the loose, more than the police department can handle. He informs Tim that a substitute Batman is needed – and selects Jean Paul Valley, who had previously been a costumed avenger, Azrael. (Clearly, Nightwing was otherwise occupied).

In their own ways, both Bane and Valley are psychologically damaged. Bane’s back-story makes grim reading (pp19-32), but sheds some light on the warped violent character. At an early age Valley had been brainwashed by his religious father to follow the Ancient Order of St Dumas and train to be an assassin. Yet in an earlier adventure, Azrael was instrumental in saving Batman’s life.  

Talking of psychos, we meet The Joker only briefly; he is one of the escapees: The bright red lips slashed across his white skin curled upward into a smile. ‘Of course, hurting people really isn’t done in the best circles.’ His lips curled down. And up again. ‘So I’ll do it in a straight line.’ (p51).

While taking weeks to recover, Bruce is determined to fight crime from his bed. ‘Sometimes there’s a clue to the present in the past,’ Bruce observed. ‘The story of your life,’ Alfred replied dryly (p223). Obsessed with combatting crime, Bruce pushes Alfred to the point where his faithful manservant finally has enough and with regret leaves his employer…

A number of questions are raised and answered about the Dark Knight, not least what drives his soul. Also on display is the power of redemption. O'Neil's Afterword is enlightening too.

If you are a fan of Batman, then this should be in your collection. Just don’t take 29 years to get round to reading it. Mea culpa…

Editorial comment:

The substitute Batman drove the batmobile into the rear of a school bus – in an attempt to prevent the children being killed. Yet a short while later, Robin is following the batmobile and ‘noticed the damaged rear end and wondered…’ (p284). But of course it was the front end of the vehicle that sustained damage. Blame the editor…

Writing – Visualise this: read a comic

It’s an old axiom: writers should read. We read all sorts, of course – from cereal packets to literary masterpieces. It’s all grist to the mill – the brain. Naturally, if you write in a particular genre, it makes sense to read works in that sphere. But if you want to bring freshness, sometimes it’s a good idea to read outside your favoured genre – outside your comfort zone, even.

If you’re writing contemporary fiction, you may believe you can wing it by not doing any research. That’s possible, but not highly likely. The modern world is complicated.

If your fictional world is in the future or on an alien planet, then you may think that since everything is ‘made up’, then ‘anything goes’ – but you’d be wrong. Characterisation, motivation, logic, genetics, science, history, magic – any or all of these subjects may be pertinent, not to mention types of clothing, armour, weaponry.

If you’re writing a historical novel, then research is definitely required; but don’t just stick to the history books, read fiction set in your chosen period – not to slavishly copy, but to absorb the place, the patterns of speech, the manners, and the everyday lives.

 
One resource writers might not consider is comics.
 
Comic books have been around a long time and have developed to a high degree of sophistication.

Comics – like those story-boards for movie-makers – help the viewer/reader visualise a scene and the action. Not all modern comics are action-packed, some are emotional in content, their characters with real-life issues. Not all comics are for kids, either.

Delving in my pile of magazines the other day, I came across a March 2003 copy of Write Now! ‘the magazine about writing for comics, animation and science fiction’. No longer in print, copies can still be purchased online. Within its pages is a lengthy article by Dennis O’Neil that may be of interest to all writers of genre fiction.  Dennis O’Neil is an award-winning writer and editor, now retired.

 

O'Neil first asks what is a story? His answer is that it isn’t a random slice of reality, but a structured narrative. That’s the essence: structured. Within that structure it should aim to evoke an emotional response from the reader and reveal character. Usually, without character there is no story. In the best stories, everything must count, and quotes from Poe: very word must be aimed towards a final effect. And with Poe we know what that effect should be!

 
He advises the writer not to waste words or images, because that’s a sure-fire way to bore the audience.
 
Naturally, for stories in comics, there are advantages: the visuals tell much of the tale. But good comics are a symbiosis of word and image. Fiction writers can do the same, to a certain extent, by visualising the scene – imagine you’re detailing the scene for an artist to draw. If you do that, then the reader can ‘draw’ the scene in their head.
 
Comics invariably have constraints thrust on the writers/artists – number of pages and preferred ratio of image/text, often depending on the publisher. Genre writers have similar constraints, in all probability – length of book (word-count). So, descriptions may have to be broad visual brush strokes and not contain too many complex sub-plots – unless you’re writing a series!
 
He pleads for clarity – establishing characters and conflicts early on. Within scenes, make sure there is no confusion – do you know where everybody is standing, what they’re doing? Employ that inner artist to ‘draw’ the scene.

Dialogue: it should be obvious who is talking at any time. In comics, this is easy – we have those speech bubbles, but even these cues are cunningly placed to move the story forward, from character to character, panel to panel. In your fiction, you can attribute speech without labouring the point. If there are only two characters speaking in the scene, then you don’t need ‘he said’ or their names most of the time. Speech in comics is usually brief – minimum number of lines per bubble. In reality, that’s the case too: avoid lengthy speeches, edit it down to fit the ‘bubble’.

 
He advocates never simply inserting a character; that person has to have a reason, a purpose for being in the story.

Always keep in mind what he calls the ‘story spine’: what the story is about. Its theme, its ‘message’, its reason for being!

 
Story must have conflict – it may be emotional rather than physical. There must be something at stake: the set up.
 
The story must lead to the most powerful moment: the win or lose instant.

In all likelihood, if you use ‘structure’ in your story, you’re going to provide pacing which will produce a page-turner.

 
Basic structure can vary, as nothing is immutable, but it’s always worth knowing what works, and then twist it afterwards to your own ends:
Hook
Inciting incident
Situation and conflict
Complications
Climax
Denouement
 
Critically reading comics can emphasise these guidelines and prove helpful in your genre fiction writing.