Oh boy.
Nobody needs to hear my take on The Killing Joke so they're not going to get it. The Interet is full of people who have praised it, destroyed it, defended it, pissed on it, embraced it, deconstructed it poorly, and commented on it without having read it. And I have read none of them. Hell, I barely have any idea what Moore and Bolland think of the book after all these years, just a few hazy, half-remembered possible anecdotes from interviews read decades ago. But none of that matters anyway. When I read a book, I do so with all the evidence needed to understand it: everything contained within the book. Sometimes even that's not quite enough to understand a text and you know what happens then? I live with the mystery of it. I'm currently going on 25 years of living with the fucking mystery of who Zampanò lost and how he knew Pelafina so, believe me, I'll live with fucking mystery.
Then again, I'm not going to say nothing about it! This blog is more for me than anybody else. It's an addition built onto the side of my brain. A place for storage. But be forewarned: I'm not scanning any panels from it so this'll be text heavy. I can't bare to crease the cover or damage the spine on this thing even if it's a First Edition meaning it's the least valuable of all the fucking printed editions. Really? Thanks a lot, world! I happen to buy one of the most popular stories of all time when it was on the stand and it's the later versions that wind up being worth the real cash? Fuck you! I don't know who I'm yelling at. I suppose the "you" I'm telling to fuck itself is just the general concept of reality and our vague awareness and understanding of it. Maybe the "you" that needs to fuck itself are the collectors who obsessively need a version of every different colored cover. I sort of wish I had the hot pink one.
Secondhand information on this comic book litter the shores of my brain like the flotsam and jetsam washed up after two ships smashed into each other at sea. Two? More like millions, I suppose. I read this and not long after that, Oracle showed up in Ostrander's Suicide Squad, one of my favorite ever comic book runs. So I don't think I ever thought this book was out of canon because it had a direct effect on the DC Universe. To be fair, I don't think I thought too much about canon and non-canon stories at the time. Which is weird because I pretty much began reading comics because of Crisis on Infinite Earths which was DC staking out the borders on their canon claim and trying to clean up their messy little universe. But upon revelation that Oracle was Barbara Gordon behind a computer because she couldn't be Batgirl anymore due to being paralyzed, nobody could argue that The Killing Joke wasn't in continuity. Whether it was meant to be or not didn't matter anymore after that. So I never believed that Batman killed The Joker at the end of it which, I think, some people read into it? Again, I'm not really up on all the opinions people have on this comic, just a hazy bunch of disordered whispers.
Based on the story, it wouldn't make sense for Batman to kill The Joker at the end of The Killing Joke anyway. It goes against the entire characterization of Batman in it, a man actively trying to avoid that end. By the time the story is over, nothing has actually changed (I know, I know. I'll get to that soon enough!). The Joker did some shit. Batman stopped him from doing more shit (although he never stops him from doing all of the shit which really becomes a problem that Batman should think about over time (although time exists in such a weird state in comics. We see Batman having not stopped The Joker from murdering thousands of Gotham citizens over many decades. But that's not the reality of Gotham in comic book time. Maybe The Joker hasn't really caused that much harm in the mind of The Batman in any issue you're currently reading!). The Joker has been caught and, presumably, thrown back in Arkham where he'll eventually escape. Commissioner Gordon has had a rough time but hasn't gone mad like The Joker, narcissistically, thought he would. The status quo at the beginning of the comic book is the same as the status quo at the end of the comic book. It's just another story from another point of view about The Batman. It could easily have been forgotten, just a story occasionally brought up among long-time readers as an interesting little take on Batman trying to make peace and The Joker trying to prove he's not a psychopathic anomaly.
Except, of course, for Babs.
But I'll get to that! I promise! First, I wanted to say how, on this re-read, I was ready to see how obviously this was an out-of-canon story in that it seemed to expressly be describing The Joker's origin. But, of course, we can never know The Joker's origin, or who he is. That's one of the mysteries we, and The Batman, must live with. It's how I knew Batman sitting in Metron's chair and asking who The Joker is wasn't going to give him a definitive answer even if some kid on tumblr screamed at me that I don't know what I'm talking about and it was all going to be revealed. But, of course, the revelation Batman got wasn't about who The Joker was, it was some dumb shit about there being three Jokers. So reading such a definitive take had me thinking, "Aha! This is obviously an out-of-canon story!" But then The Joker casually mentions how he doesn't know what exactly the pain was that brought him to where he was and that he likes to imagine different scenarios for it. So what we got was just one of those possibilities. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what kind of "bad day" caused The Joker to go insane. What matters is that Batman had one of those "bad days" and he, too, became mentally ill. Obsessive. Compulsive. Dressed like a bat. But he didn't become a nihilist without hope. So while The Joker needs to prove that he's just had a normal reaction to a "bad day", Batman's existence proves him wrong. And maybe that's why they hate each other without really knowing each other. They sense what they could have become, something diametrically opposed to what they currently are. For The Joker, that's an affront, an insult, the greatest offense. Because it shows he could have been a better person but he just became a psychopath. For Batman, it brings out compassion and empathy and understanding. He understands having a "bad day" and wishes to extend a hand to The Joker before their constant conflicts end badly. This entire story is about Batman trying to help The Joker and The Joker trying to prove that he just went mad like any normal person would. Which is why Batman killing The Joker at the end makes no sense.
And then, of course, there's Babs. Talk about a Bad Day! If not for The Joker shooting Barbara in the spine and then stripping her naked and taking photos of her broken body, this comic book would probably have gently faded into obscurity. It's not like the rest of the story was handed down from on high by the Great Alan Moore. The Joker's monologues simply read like excised entries from Rorschach's journal. There's nothing really new or revelatory here. Maybe in 1988, showing Batman and The Joker were two sides of the same card was something not so plainly stated? I don't know about that kind of stuff. But if Babs hadn't been brutally shot and tortured by The Joker so casually just to try to make Gordon insane (some might use the shorthand "fridged"), there's just no meat on the bone of this story. And once you know the story, that cover just mocks you. It offends. It puts the reader in the position of the random victim of any psychopath.
But, yes, Babs wasn't a random victim. She was the daughter of the Police Commissioner. She was used to get to him. A woman tortured to more deeply explore a man's character. And while this might be seen more grotesquely year after year, as it's so obviously done time and time again, I'd wager it wasn't seen quite as manipulative and cynically when this appeared on the shelves. Rightly, it was meant to horrify and disturb. Especially when readers are used to something this drastic happening in some kind of event and not some one-off story tossed up on the shelves with no real link to any current monthly title. It was meant to be shocking because it was an act meant to drive Gordon (the father!) mad.
Ultimately, with many, many thanks to Kim Yale and John Ostrander, what happened to Barbara Gordon wound up being uplifting in the way The Joker tried to prove "bad days" couldn't be. Outside of this story, Barbara's ordeal gained the meaning Moore and Bolland never intended to give it. Sure, they make her strong after having woken up, concerned for her father more than her well-being and possible paralysis. What The Joker did to her is never explicitly mentioned aside from a casual mention from the dirtiest, most unkempt version of Detective Bullock ever depicted (quite a feat!) about how Babs had been found undressed with a lens cap nearby for a camera they couldn't find. We must, I think, assume there were only pictures. Kim and John, I believe, assumed that as well when they brought Barbara Gordon back as Oracle. Did she become the most well-known disabled super hero of all time? I don't know! Why would I know? Should I even say disabled?! Is that okay?
Kim and John are the true heroes of this book. Because the cynical side of me sees what other writers might have done with a follow-up to this story and it's not great. Babs possibly pregnant with The Joker's child? Right? Somebody thought about that, I'm sure. It's the only rational reaction to this story! Any normal person reading this story would think that's the next story! I can prove that I'm not the only one who thought it! All I need is a dilapidated amusement park, some joker venom, three little people in bondage gear, and a karaoke machine! I'll prove that I'm not the sicko! You're the sicko for not becoming a sicko in the way I became a sicko! You! You're the pervert for not wanting a story about Babs having The Joker's baby!
The Killing Joke Rating: B-. It's fine! Again, if not for the shock and horror of the random act of violence against Barbara Gordon, it would have wound up a footnote, maybe a fan favorite on some lists by people trying to prove their love of comics by picking something not that great but interesting enough. The joke at the end was pretty good though. Did Alan Moore write it or was that an old standard? I don't know! But Batman thought it was funny so it must be a new one. Because Batman mentions earlier how if he's heard a joke before, he doesn't laugh at it (unless the main point was that he doesn't laugh at "unfunny" jokes). Although Batman laughing? What's that about?! That's more out of character than when Kevin Smith wrote that Batman pissed his pants! Why isn't Moore taken to task for that huge writing blunder?! Some people! You just can't criticize them, I guess.
Then again, I'm not going to say nothing about it! This blog is more for me than anybody else. It's an addition built onto the side of my brain. A place for storage. But be forewarned: I'm not scanning any panels from it so this'll be text heavy. I can't bare to crease the cover or damage the spine on this thing even if it's a First Edition meaning it's the least valuable of all the fucking printed editions. Really? Thanks a lot, world! I happen to buy one of the most popular stories of all time when it was on the stand and it's the later versions that wind up being worth the real cash? Fuck you! I don't know who I'm yelling at. I suppose the "you" I'm telling to fuck itself is just the general concept of reality and our vague awareness and understanding of it. Maybe the "you" that needs to fuck itself are the collectors who obsessively need a version of every different colored cover. I sort of wish I had the hot pink one.
Secondhand information on this comic book litter the shores of my brain like the flotsam and jetsam washed up after two ships smashed into each other at sea. Two? More like millions, I suppose. I read this and not long after that, Oracle showed up in Ostrander's Suicide Squad, one of my favorite ever comic book runs. So I don't think I ever thought this book was out of canon because it had a direct effect on the DC Universe. To be fair, I don't think I thought too much about canon and non-canon stories at the time. Which is weird because I pretty much began reading comics because of Crisis on Infinite Earths which was DC staking out the borders on their canon claim and trying to clean up their messy little universe. But upon revelation that Oracle was Barbara Gordon behind a computer because she couldn't be Batgirl anymore due to being paralyzed, nobody could argue that The Killing Joke wasn't in continuity. Whether it was meant to be or not didn't matter anymore after that. So I never believed that Batman killed The Joker at the end of it which, I think, some people read into it? Again, I'm not really up on all the opinions people have on this comic, just a hazy bunch of disordered whispers.
Based on the story, it wouldn't make sense for Batman to kill The Joker at the end of The Killing Joke anyway. It goes against the entire characterization of Batman in it, a man actively trying to avoid that end. By the time the story is over, nothing has actually changed (I know, I know. I'll get to that soon enough!). The Joker did some shit. Batman stopped him from doing more shit (although he never stops him from doing all of the shit which really becomes a problem that Batman should think about over time (although time exists in such a weird state in comics. We see Batman having not stopped The Joker from murdering thousands of Gotham citizens over many decades. But that's not the reality of Gotham in comic book time. Maybe The Joker hasn't really caused that much harm in the mind of The Batman in any issue you're currently reading!). The Joker has been caught and, presumably, thrown back in Arkham where he'll eventually escape. Commissioner Gordon has had a rough time but hasn't gone mad like The Joker, narcissistically, thought he would. The status quo at the beginning of the comic book is the same as the status quo at the end of the comic book. It's just another story from another point of view about The Batman. It could easily have been forgotten, just a story occasionally brought up among long-time readers as an interesting little take on Batman trying to make peace and The Joker trying to prove he's not a psychopathic anomaly.
Except, of course, for Babs.
But I'll get to that! I promise! First, I wanted to say how, on this re-read, I was ready to see how obviously this was an out-of-canon story in that it seemed to expressly be describing The Joker's origin. But, of course, we can never know The Joker's origin, or who he is. That's one of the mysteries we, and The Batman, must live with. It's how I knew Batman sitting in Metron's chair and asking who The Joker is wasn't going to give him a definitive answer even if some kid on tumblr screamed at me that I don't know what I'm talking about and it was all going to be revealed. But, of course, the revelation Batman got wasn't about who The Joker was, it was some dumb shit about there being three Jokers. So reading such a definitive take had me thinking, "Aha! This is obviously an out-of-canon story!" But then The Joker casually mentions how he doesn't know what exactly the pain was that brought him to where he was and that he likes to imagine different scenarios for it. So what we got was just one of those possibilities. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what kind of "bad day" caused The Joker to go insane. What matters is that Batman had one of those "bad days" and he, too, became mentally ill. Obsessive. Compulsive. Dressed like a bat. But he didn't become a nihilist without hope. So while The Joker needs to prove that he's just had a normal reaction to a "bad day", Batman's existence proves him wrong. And maybe that's why they hate each other without really knowing each other. They sense what they could have become, something diametrically opposed to what they currently are. For The Joker, that's an affront, an insult, the greatest offense. Because it shows he could have been a better person but he just became a psychopath. For Batman, it brings out compassion and empathy and understanding. He understands having a "bad day" and wishes to extend a hand to The Joker before their constant conflicts end badly. This entire story is about Batman trying to help The Joker and The Joker trying to prove that he just went mad like any normal person would. Which is why Batman killing The Joker at the end makes no sense.
And then, of course, there's Babs. Talk about a Bad Day! If not for The Joker shooting Barbara in the spine and then stripping her naked and taking photos of her broken body, this comic book would probably have gently faded into obscurity. It's not like the rest of the story was handed down from on high by the Great Alan Moore. The Joker's monologues simply read like excised entries from Rorschach's journal. There's nothing really new or revelatory here. Maybe in 1988, showing Batman and The Joker were two sides of the same card was something not so plainly stated? I don't know about that kind of stuff. But if Babs hadn't been brutally shot and tortured by The Joker so casually just to try to make Gordon insane (some might use the shorthand "fridged"), there's just no meat on the bone of this story. And once you know the story, that cover just mocks you. It offends. It puts the reader in the position of the random victim of any psychopath.
But, yes, Babs wasn't a random victim. She was the daughter of the Police Commissioner. She was used to get to him. A woman tortured to more deeply explore a man's character. And while this might be seen more grotesquely year after year, as it's so obviously done time and time again, I'd wager it wasn't seen quite as manipulative and cynically when this appeared on the shelves. Rightly, it was meant to horrify and disturb. Especially when readers are used to something this drastic happening in some kind of event and not some one-off story tossed up on the shelves with no real link to any current monthly title. It was meant to be shocking because it was an act meant to drive Gordon (the father!) mad.
Ultimately, with many, many thanks to Kim Yale and John Ostrander, what happened to Barbara Gordon wound up being uplifting in the way The Joker tried to prove "bad days" couldn't be. Outside of this story, Barbara's ordeal gained the meaning Moore and Bolland never intended to give it. Sure, they make her strong after having woken up, concerned for her father more than her well-being and possible paralysis. What The Joker did to her is never explicitly mentioned aside from a casual mention from the dirtiest, most unkempt version of Detective Bullock ever depicted (quite a feat!) about how Babs had been found undressed with a lens cap nearby for a camera they couldn't find. We must, I think, assume there were only pictures. Kim and John, I believe, assumed that as well when they brought Barbara Gordon back as Oracle. Did she become the most well-known disabled super hero of all time? I don't know! Why would I know? Should I even say disabled?! Is that okay?
Kim and John are the true heroes of this book. Because the cynical side of me sees what other writers might have done with a follow-up to this story and it's not great. Babs possibly pregnant with The Joker's child? Right? Somebody thought about that, I'm sure. It's the only rational reaction to this story! Any normal person reading this story would think that's the next story! I can prove that I'm not the only one who thought it! All I need is a dilapidated amusement park, some joker venom, three little people in bondage gear, and a karaoke machine! I'll prove that I'm not the sicko! You're the sicko for not becoming a sicko in the way I became a sicko! You! You're the pervert for not wanting a story about Babs having The Joker's baby!
The Killing Joke Rating: B-. It's fine! Again, if not for the shock and horror of the random act of violence against Barbara Gordon, it would have wound up a footnote, maybe a fan favorite on some lists by people trying to prove their love of comics by picking something not that great but interesting enough. The joke at the end was pretty good though. Did Alan Moore write it or was that an old standard? I don't know! But Batman thought it was funny so it must be a new one. Because Batman mentions earlier how if he's heard a joke before, he doesn't laugh at it (unless the main point was that he doesn't laugh at "unfunny" jokes). Although Batman laughing? What's that about?! That's more out of character than when Kevin Smith wrote that Batman pissed his pants! Why isn't Moore taken to task for that huge writing blunder?! Some people! You just can't criticize them, I guess.
