The Other History of the DC Universe #1-5

The Other History of the DC Universe #1-5

Originally released in 2020

Written by John Ridley

Art by Giuseppe Camuncoli (#1-5), Alex Dos Diaz (#1)

The Other History of the DC Universe focuses on DC characters who are minorities, often underused or marginalized.  It's an unflinching look at the history of both America and DC itself and the racism that can be found in both of them. (The criticism of DC is admittedly more subtle than the criticism of America, but it's there)

The series focuses on six different characters (the two Teen Titans share an issue), with an emphasis on different years.  The series starts off with Jefferson Pierce, also known as Black Lightning. It's interesting how the stories here are shaped by who is telling them - Pierce feels bitter towards John Stewart, expressing annoyance that the first black superhero is just a substitute for a white one, and he views Stewart as someone who's looking down on normal people and someone who is willing to put up with what he sees as condescension from the all-white (aside from Martian Manhunter) Justice League.

The various viewpoint characters take different stances on the superhero community and the world at large. Mal Duncan isn't as bitter as Black Lightning was about being one of the first black superheroes, even if he didn't have a codename and was generally treated as the Teen Titans' maintenance man, while Bumblebee is more annoyed with the team, and Roy Harper in particular.

Katana's story strips away some of the mystique surrounding the character (establishing that her sword does not trap the souls of its victims and she's not a master martial artist; she just stuck with the reputation for both because it made her enemies fear her more), while Renee Montoya's story focuses on how her closeted sexuality damaged her life.

The series comes full circle by focusing on Jefferson Pierce's daughter Anissa, who has powers of her own.  Anissa's story gives new context to something that happened in Jefferson Pierce's story, implying a darker side to the character that didn't seem to be hinted at in Pierce's version of the events. In Jefferson's version, he tried to get a student to toughen up so that people wouldn't walk all over him. The student became stressed out and switched schools. When Anissa encounters the student years later, having met him when she was a child, he reveals that he was gay, and he believes that Jefferson was homophobic and targeting him for that reason. (Though whether it's true or not is a little ambiguous - it's a matter of perspective)

As the stories largely deal with bigotry in various forms, the book gets pretty dark, though the second issue (focusing on Mal, who later takes on the codename "Guardian", and Bumblebee) lightens up the tone by contrasting their stories with each other. (Mal claims that he fought the Angel of Death in order to get a magic horn that makes him the equal of whoever he's fighting - Bumblebee believes it was a hallucination)

The series takes a bleaker look at the DC universe, and its two flagship heroes in particular.  Some characters view Superman as unwilling to combat social issues like drugs and the root causes of crime, and they have issues with how he chose to handle Supergirl (sending her to an orphanage and keeping her existence a secret), though he's ultimately painted in a sympathetic light.

The same can't be said for Batman, with the series going out of its way to paint him in as negative of a light as possible.  Renee Montoya develops a more positive view of him over time, and Katana appreciates how he helped her find a mother-daughter relationship with one of the Outsiders, giving both of them something that they had lost.

However, the story paints him as a self-centered control freak and glory hog (the Outsiders are referred to as "Batman and the Outsiders") who feels like he can jump in and take charge and everyone else just has to accept it.  Trying to meet his expectations is portrayed as messing up Dick Grayson's life, and the fact that he put two children into dangerous situations, one of those kids (Jason) died as a result, and he continued to do the same thing with Tim is called out.

If Batman's treated badly in this book, however, that's nothing compared to Deathstroke.  He only appears twice in this narrative, but he is openly referred to as a pedophile and a rapist, with his victim receiving all of the blame and being painted as a sociopath.  This feels like meta-commentary, as it's said that this aspect of Deathstroke is ignored because of him being a "badass" and a "man's man".

A more biting piece of meta-commentary is directed at DC's former staff rather than the fandom.  While working with the Teen Titans, Mal discovers a file on a superhero named Jericho who turned out to be black.  He could have been the first black superhero, but he was killed under mysterious circumstances because "the powers that be" thought he was "too much" and "too extreme", so they made it so Jericho ceased to exist.  I'm not sure, but it felt like there were plans to introduce Jericho as DC's first black superhero and a member of the Teen Titans at some point in the 1960s, only for DC's editorial to refuse to let it happen.

Mal's wedding to Bumblebee (Karen Beecher) highlights another issue with the Teen Titans - Donna Troy's wedding to Terry Long was treated as a major event with the gods themselves intervening to make sure it went off without a hitch. In contrast, none of the Teen Titans showed up to Mal and Karen's wedding. (I'm guessing it happened off-screen) In addition to inequality issues in the DC universe that don't seem to be highlighted often (among other things, this book established that Metropolis has multiple impoverished areas that seem to go unmentioned in any adaptations), this book also takes the time to educate readers on real world historical cases of inequality due to race or sexuality.

One example that was highlighted is the tennis player Arthur Ashe.  In a sport that black men didn't take part in, Ashe broke the colour barrier, with some characters seeing him as an inspiration.  However, he had a heart condition, and one of his blood transfusions was infected with HIV, leading to him developing AIDS.  This meant that, rather than being respected as a major figure in the sport, his final days were filled with lurid questions about his sexuality because so little was known about AIDS at the time.

Even somewhat recent events, like the George W. Bush presidency, were called out as being points in time where openly bigoted legislature such as anti-gay marriage bills could be signed into law with no fuss. Some of the events that were described were shocking, and it puts the social inequality (particularly in the United States, though it seems like the sort of thing that could happen in any country) into perspective.

I went into this book expecting to learn more about characters who had been overlooked and mishandled by DC.  I got that, but it also gave me a vivid look into how unfair life can be for large swaths of the population, whether it's in a real or fictional setting.

For most of these viewpoint characters, their entry into the superhero community comes with a caveat.  John Stewart isn't a focus here, but he is the first black hero on DC's Earth - however, he's only serving as a substitute if Hal Jordan and Guy Gardner are unavailable.  Black Lightning is more independent, but rather than calling him a hero, the news refers to him as a vigilante at best or a thug at worst.  Katana's viewed as a conglomeration of Japanese stereotypes, and while Renee doesn't face issues because of her race (at least, not to the same extent), but she's harassed by her coworkers (and Two-Face, who's in love with her) when she's outed. (by Two-Face)

However, there are signs of progress, and by the time of Anissa's story, a lot of the issues that the older generation of heroes dealt with aren't so overwhelming. (She's afraid of coming out to her parents, much like Renee was, but there's not the looming dread that they'll disown her) Evils like racism and tyranny are still present, but it ends on a more optimistic note compared to the rest of the story.

The stories were well-written, and while the art wasn't as prominent as it would be in most comics, it got the point across in a creative and visually interesting manner and helped to emphasize the stories being told. I knew little to nothing about most of these characters (I was familiar with Renee Montoya through the series "52"), so this offered a fresh perspective on the DC universe while putting a spotlight on issues in reality or comics that are often ignored or glossed over.