Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman

In his paper, "Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman," Brian Mitchell Peters proposes that youth culture is responsible for an arbitrary yet highly structured appropriation of what we can call high-contemporary culture. Hence, notions of pop-culture take from the past and use the present to create a highly fluid now, capable of transcending its present moment in a stereotypical fifteen minutes of fame. Part of twentieth-century pop-culture phenomena is the evolution of the comic book. The comic, in its habitual split of binaries, creates a space where young people have tapped consistently into queer themes. Queer is defined as a category that houses an option to traditional heteronormative representations for young people. An analysis of the history of Wonder Woman comics that traces her creation, her transition in the late-1960s, and a revolutionary series of comics in the mid-1990s reveals a consistent duo of queer subtexts. In his paper, Peters examines the subtextual and textual representations of gay masquerade (or drag) and lesbian jouissance in comics. The theoretical background of the paper is semiotics, queer, and psychoanalytic criticism to explore these three stages in Wonder Woman comics to present an argument that reveals the identification of queer themes by the comic's reading public as well as the cultural homophobia that creates a standard storyline and that, in turn, extinguishes habitually the detectable areas of queer text over and over again. Brian Mitchell Peters, "Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman” page 2 of 9 CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture 5.3 (2003): Brian Mitchell Peters Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman It is the young people of our world that decide what works and what does not in terms of popular culture, from music to television, sports and fashion. Comic books mark a pertinent role in the formation of ideology and the young: not only does a comic represent its era and often youth culture, but its crystallization of ideas, both in surface and subtext, caters to the formation of pop-culture trends in its pubescent, and later adult, audience. Comic books have always revealed themes that can be identified as queer, as the majority of superheroes always had to live two lives, one as hero and one as civilian. Many young people who will later identify themselves as gay, lesbian, or queer, zone in on comics because these magazines articulate a space of queer play. One can think of the recent releases of Queer as Folk, where Vincent (U.K.) and Michael (U.S.) are obsessed with their favorite comic heroes because of the detectable queer themes that they have always been able to locate in their comic books. Comics are popular culture: they speak for an instant, are constantly changing, and attract an audience that sees something deeper, often comforting, in the printed pages. In the early years of comics, primarily between the Depression and World War II, the split between hero and civilian marked a tangible queer theme present in the majority of superhero comic books. This does not entail that each comic book character with an alter ego could be interpreted as a closeted homosexual; rather, particular aspects of certain comic books reflect a queer consciousness, felt and interpreted by queer readers. Wonder Woman encompasses the very pinnacle of queer themes, and since her inception into the world of DC comics she has exhibited varying degrees of both gay-drag and lesbian subtexts. The result has been a readership, a cult following if you will, that has followed this character through her various incarnations throughout the twentieth century. Her comic can be read as an item of popular culture that has served as a safe haven, a source of inspiration and a pre-liberation voice for many readers. The result is open to ideological critique, for how would such a positive voice, however veiled it may be, serve a yet to be born and often clandestine percentage of individuals? Moreover, how do these topoi affect the belief system of young queers? How do comic book representations of questionable queerness contribute to the way young people consider their own sexualities? The response and its realities lie in a comic series which exemplifies the crystallization of queer themes in Wonder Woman. In 1995, The Challenge of Artemis depicts a series of comics which create an evolution in the split between heterosexual/homosexual, marked through shifting texts of two heroes. In this series there are two Wonder Women: Princess Diana, the original Wonder Woman, reinvents herself, and this reinvention marks a highly visible gay text of masquerade/drag and a particular lesbian continuum; Artemis, as the impulsive hunter turned Wonder Woman, illustrates a far more visible lesbian text. The result of this arguably "out" queer text creates an ideological reality of pride and survival: although brief in its run, The Challenge of Artemis speaks to queer readers as it emphasizes the queer subtexts that have been visible in Wonder Woman since the 1940s. To deconstruct Wonder Woman to expose the lesbian and gay (sub)texts which flourish throughout her comic book run, one must embrace some kind of approach that can acknowledge the signs in a given image as well as the subtextual underpinnings that can shift from reader to reader. Comics are notorious for this reality of text/subtext, for they create meaning through image, hidden meanings, the continuity of the story in question, and dialogue. Moreover, the reality of the comic book human form is a highly eroticized physical presence, from hulking men, such as Superman, to masked crusaders like Green Lantern and Green Arrow, to pubescent youths with highly developed bodies like Robin, to the focus of combined physical prowess and beauty seen throughout Wonder Woman's career. Harold Beaver argues that one can conduct a semiotic demystification of unveiling queer texts in popular culture. Beaver makes direct reference to Roland Barthes, as he attests that one can analyze how the homosexual text is "a prodigious consumer of signs of hidden meanings, hidden Brian Mitchell Peters, "Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman” page 3 of 9 CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture 5.3 (2003): systems, hidden potentiality" (105). "A homosexual schema," as Beaver calls it, "can never be proved" (103); instead, a queer theoretical reading often unmasks the mysterious "avenger," something that is often in part "invisible" (103). Throughout the decades, Wonder Woman reveals aspects of both gay drag and masked meanings, along with lesbian continuity and further subtextual underpinnings; these conclusions can be drawn from a detailed exploration of her history, her costume, her mysterious powers, and her transformations. As comics shift for attempted sales, my argument will rely on Wonder Woman's original creation as a foundation, integral changes in the late '60s as an evolution in queer/camp aesthetics, and a study of a series of issues published in 1995. A liaison will be established to emphasize a voice of liberation to readers through the recurring motifs of masquerade and same-sex alliance. The History of Wonder Woman The original inception of Wonder Woman illustrates the habitual super hero/secret identity binary. Princess Diana of Paradise Island originally comes to man's world to save the fate of the planet from the Nazis: in the comic book world she wins the war with the U.S. As she fights with America, she also has to have access to the necessary war files, and works in Washington D.C. as Yeoman Diana Prince. The Plain Jane/Mad Molly split is accentuated as one understands it as a kind of closet for Diana Prince: her identity was secret and private, and as she passed as someone conventional in everyday life, she would disappear and reappear in disguise to fight crime. The sexuality of Wonder Woman and the subtextual jouissance, an interpretive and suggestive play, has been the product of William Moulton Marston, the creator of Wonder Woman. His own life, his status of Doctor of Psychology, and his fascination with desire (as revealed in his curiously avant-garde romantic life, see Daniels Chapter 1), is evident throughout Diana's early comic run. In fact, the lesbianism that was detectable through the all-woman haven of Paradise Island, the lesbian continuum between Wonder Woman and her foes, and the recurring bondage motif, did receive significant attention. In 1954, which coincides directly with a cultural fear of homosexuality and communism initiated by the McCarthy administration, Dr Fredric Wertham launched a "surprising successful campaign to persuade Americans that comic books were corrupting the nation's youth" (Daniels 103). Wertham accused Wonder Woman of containing "Lesbian overtones," as he described Diana's then cohorts, the Holliday Girls [sic], as "gay party girls" (Daniels 103). However, despite these accusations, it appears that even during more conservative times, comics encompassed images of eroticism or subtexual sexuality that was tolerated. Marston laughed this off; he "loved his little jokes" (Daniels 102), and as a response he created a frequent saying for his Amazon: "Suffering Sappho." In Wonder Woman 63 (January 1954), Diana finds herself displaced from her home (after the war moved from Washington D.C. to New York City). As she realizes she is far from New York, she exclaims, "Suffering Sappho! I'm not in New York! I'm in San Francisco!" (Daniels 103). And thus Marston emphasizes and liberates the queer theme which is inherent to Wonder Woman by having Diana mark her own ancient lesbian roots through reference to Sappho and the humor of having her wind up, however temporarily, in San Francisco. On a less abstract level, her habitual iconography, which is even more detectable than her semiotics, is like Wilde's Salome. The history of Wonder Woman reveals a consistent dragging of the text: as Elaine Showalter argues that the gay male author often hid his own experiences and desires behind his female characters, a readership certainly exists where the female super-hero embodies a double identity that attracts a gay cult following (as a side remark, the gay cult of Wonder Woman was intensified, if not actually confirmed, through the popularity of the 1970s camp television program, and further demonstrated through the many, many diverse websites devoted to Wonder Woman). Throughout her analyses on Wilde and Salome, Showalter asks, "is the woman behind Salome's veil the innermost being of the male artist?" (151). She goes on to explain how and why the queer male artist of the fin-desiècle has used the textual space of woman as a boy in drag. While Wonder Woman cannot stand for Marston in drag, her characterization does habitually reveal a motif of masquerade, from her costumes as both hero and civilian, to the varying make-overs she has received Brian Mitchell Peters, "Qu(e)erying Comic Book Culture and Representations of Sexuality in Wonder Woman” page 4 of 9 CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture 5.3 (2003): throughout the twentieth century. Thus, her gayness is part of her feyness, and linked directly to the camp that her character initiates throughout the years. Perhaps Wonder Woman does portray a space for the queer reader in a type of transferred, imaginary sequence of drag. In a similar manner, Wonder Woman's questionable powers surpass the often limiting boundaries of traditionally feminine stereotypes. As masquerade creates a subtextual gay text, the movement away from gender stereotypes and conventional ideas of woman illustrate her lesbian subtexts. For Diana, unlike the stereotyped good girl of the 1940s, has special powers: these include superhuman strength and speed, granted by the male gods Hercules and Mercury, as well as a paradoxical costume. She is habitually dressed in star-covered briefs, a bustier with the patriotic eagle, stiletto boots, and even magic jewelry. She is most definitely burlesque, like Salome, and she has an almost stripper-like quality to her costume. Nonetheless, she is the most successful female crime fighter in comic book history: her tiara is a boomerang, her bracelets deflect bullets, and her trademark is the lasso of truth. The lariat, spun from Queen Hippolyte's girdle of strength, is unbreakable and telepathically controlled, and once bound within its coils even Superman has to submit to its hypnotic powers (note the foundations for the "bound" motif). In short, Diana's powers encompass iconography and abilities that envelop both ideas of femininity and masculinity. Accordingly, Beaver theorizes that homosexuality "is not a name for a pre-existent thing" but part of a network of developing language, on the model of "male/female" (103). Wonder Woman's queerness, then, stems from her inherent combination of traditionally male and female stereotypes, grouped together to form an ideal woman-hero. For Wonder Woman is ideal because she speaks to and empowers at least three cultural minority groups: women, lesbians, and gay men.