Batman: The Killing Joke

Allow me to preface this week’s post by saying this is the last blog entry about horror fiction I will ever pen (for a grade), assuming of course our Evil Overlord doesn’t have some nefarious trick up his sleeve. After one and a half years of reading mostly horror fiction, I will now get to read books of MY choosing! This is, no offense, a happy day indeed.

And how appropriate that I go out with a post on Batman: The Killing Joke. I think somewhere in the manual for People Who Want to Become Horror Writers, there is a rule that all of us who love dark fiction must also love the Dark Knight. To be honest, I’m not much of a comic book fan, and the only other graphic novel I’ve read was also penned by Mr. Alan Moore, From Hell. (Surprise, surprise.) Therefore, it wasn’t exactly a hard sell for me to like The Killing Joke. Aside from my reverence for Moore’s work, my love for the Batman universe knows no bounds. (See large Catwoman tattoo on upper right shoulder for more proof.)

What is it about the Batman that we as horror writers and fans find so alluring? I think it’s the combination of the dark, near noir setting, and the personalities of the Batman, his adversaries and his accomplices.

Let’s begin with the Batman. Here’s a guy you can’t help but love, even if you do think he has, well, bats in his belfry. After witnessing the tragic murder of his parents, Bruce Wayne dons a cap and a mask and seeks to avenge their deaths by becoming a one man arbiter of justice. Here is a best case scenario reaction to tragedy if I ever heard one. And yet, we like Batman not just because he collars the bad guys but because his psyche is so scarred and irretrievably twisted.

Twisted, but not as twisted as the psyches of most of the villains in the Batman universe, most notably The Joker. The depiction of the Joker in The Killing Joke is so intriguing and effective because he embodies the classic psycho, dashing and mysterious in spite of his evil deeds. Further, we can all sympathize with the Joker’s plight, and as has been posited so often in this course: Where is the line between sanity and insanity, between normality and psychosis, and how closely do any of us skirt it? I think it’s safe to assume we’ve all experienced at least “one bad day” in our lives, though most of us have managed to avoid disfigurement via vat of acid. The Joker’s reaction to the string of tragedies that unfolds in this novel is understandable. No, it is more than understandable, it is human. We are all flawed creatures with villainesque tendencies we (mostly) keep under wraps. Who among us wouldn’t welcome the freedom to be the evil that touches so many of our lives?

What is inhuman, if anything in this novel can be described as such, is Commissioner Gordon’s stoicism, his unswerving dedication to the job that is the root cause of his own difficulties. And yet, for everyone unrepressed Joker in our midst, there are a hundred Gordons, desperate men finding solace in the tedium of workaholism.

Aside from being a damned good story with a cast of sympathetic characters, The Killing Joke is beautifully rendered. Brian Bolland’s illustrations perfectly capture the dark universe that is Gotham City.

I’d close with my usual statement about the books I’ve loved, that I’ll be passing this one on to my son, but on this occasion I can’t claim that. I can’t pass it on to him, he’s already stolen it from me and is deeply engrossed.