Joy, Scott Pilgrim and Understanding Your Own Narrative

Over the past several years I have written countless blurbs and essays on pop culture. Currently I am trying to stray away from that, as I am slowly realizing that obsessing over pop culture detracts from establishing Christian culture. If you are simply a vacuum sucking up the Cheerios on the floor, it will be very hard for you to turn that into a work of fine art.

However comma, I’ve decided that I want to revisit my dear friend Scott Pilgrim. The other night I was in one of my pensive moods and decided to cobble together a list of 10 books (not including the Bible) that I consider to be the most important to me; books that have shaped my worldview in some significant way or another, books that I believe to be the best things I have ever read. The list was going along very nicely at first, but then I suddenly realized that I had listed Bryan Lee O’Malley’s nerd comic with the likes of Shakespeare, C.S. Lewis and Plato. What on earth? But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

My inclusion of Scott Pilgrim among my 10 favorite works of literature goes far beyond my love of the visual nature of the comic book medium. Yes the art is lovely; yes it is charmingly funny in an annoying little brother sort of way. But none of those things make it quote, unquote “great literature.” An excellent story is the mark of great literature. Nothing more, and nothing less.
Earlier that evening, I had gone to my weekly Bible study and we were just starting a new study on James. I realize that when many people think about the book of James, they think about the whole justification by works controversy and all that comes with it. I don’t think that’s a fair assessment of James, but that is a conversation for another time. One of the OTHER main themes of James, however, is joy. Overwhelming, pervasive joy.

Our Bible study leader challenged us to come up with a working definition of joy, and we all proceeded to toss words and ideas around. One of the things we had to deal with of course was James 1:2-3: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.”

Suddenly, it dawned on me. One of the big problems we have in the church is that pastors, elders and fellow Christians will offer you platitudes and moralisms and tell you to “count it all joy, friend!” when you tell them about some tough situation you are going through. This is just wrong, and has never sat well with me.

While their exhortations to joy are all well and good… NEEDED even, they are going about it the wrong way. When I go up to someone and tell them I am having a rough time at work or school, or that I just got out of a really messy relationship, or that my best friend died, the WRONG response is for the person I am talking to give me a crap-eating grin and say: “Consider it joy, Josiah!” That will most likely result in a punch in the face.

What did they do wrong? It wasn’t them telling me to be joyful, it was them telling me to be joyful divorced from everything else. Them problem is that they said only “joy” and not “joy in context.” Because that is what I realized joy is: it is properly understanding the narrative and story that you are in. Of course, for an atheist, properly understanding the story you are in results in a rather different virtue… namely despair.

But if you understand that this moment, this pain that you are in now is part of the larger story that is meant to build you up into a well rounded and mature character, how can you not count it joy? Take Les Miserables for example: Jean Valjean goes through a lot of crap over the course of that narrative… and I mean a LOT. He’s thrown in prison, slogs through a sewer, falls off a ship, sins against others, is sinned against himself… but this is all for his glory. All of that pain and suffering becomes heroism and glory in the context of the story, which itself leads up to him showing the greatest mercy to his arch nemesis and then giving away his daughter to a deserving husband. The story is glorious, and would in NO way be the same if the pain and trials were not there as well. The story ITSELF becomes glorious and a joy.

So what on earth does all of this have to do with Scott Pilgrim? EVERYTHING. Throughout the story of Scott Pilgrim, Scott is going around beating up “bad guys” in vicious fights to the death, stars swirl, lights dance and stat points pop up in the air beside characters. It’s ridiculous and over the top in the way a mash up of Singing in the Rain and Street Fighter might me. But once you get to the sixth book, you realize that there was a method to O’Malley’s madness.

Halfway through book six, Scott goes up against his alterego: the “Nega Scott!” It’s ridiculous like most of the rest of the series, but half way through this physically personified fight between Scott and his evil nature, his old flame and pretty much only friend, Kim Pine yells at him:

“You can’t keep living like this, Scott! If you keep forgetting the mistakes you’ve made, you’re just going to keep making them!”

Suddenly, the two versions of Scott stop, melt into one… and then Scott collapses on the ground and sobs: “I remember everything.” From there the entire tone of the series changes. Scott realizes that he had become a sort of villain, using his delusions of grandeur and heroism to justify himself treating his friends like crap and jumping from one relationship to another. He realizes that he had painted himself as the protagonist of the story when he was in fact no such thing. Then, after that realization, he humbles himself, admits his failings… and then he really CAN be the protagonist.

There are many things that are trite and/or uncalled for in the Scott Pilgrim series… but the overarching narrative is not one of them. There is nothing trite about admitting you behaved like a imbecile, there is nothing trite about apologizing to your friends… there is nothing trite about giving up your eros and striving for agape.

Batman and the Kingship of Man

There are many interesting character relationships that are detailed in the pages of Batman comics, and nearly as many have been analyzed to death by modern philosophers, literary and pop culture critics. But I have yet to see a decent analysis of the relationship between Batman and Jim Gordon.

Anyone familiar with Batman comics and the lovely locale that they inhabit will know that calling Gotham City “not a good place” is an understatement of the highest caliber. Gotham City, itself influenced by New York City, has been described by comic book author Dennis O’Neil as “Manhattan below Fourteenth Street at eleven minutes past midnight on the coldest night in November." (See footnote 1) And it’s not just the weather that’s cold. Gotham City is home to some of the most dangerous criminals and brutes to ever inhabit the printed page. And against this oncoming hoard of scum and villainy stands the stalwart police commissioner James Gordon; the only straight cop in a world of corruption. That is, until Batman came along.

It is Gordon who is usually responsible for lighting the bat-signal, calling for the Caped Crusader’s help. The public comes to Jim Gordon, and Gordon in turn looks to Batman. While in many origin stories the alliance begins with much distrust on both sides, Batman and Gordon always seem to have some sort of conversation before any given story is over. Besides his trusty butler Alfred, Commissioner Gordon is just about he only friend that Batman has.

Now would probably be a good time to bring up the notion of human kingship, specifically that God created man in the beginning to be the ultimate ruler of the created universe and that God would in turn rule over him. (See footnote 2) This specifically harkens back to God’s mandate for man to populate the earth and take dominion over it. (Genesis 1:28-30 and again in Genesis 9:1-3) It is also generally accepted that man was to become a ruler of the earth had he not fallen, and this is made the case again since Christ (the Son and Crown Prince of the High Throne) came down to make intersession for and redeem his people. Since He came back for us and didn’t simply let us abstain from our throne, we are now once again “heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.” (Romans 8:17)

Back to Batman: I view Batman as a sort of imperfect Christ figure. As I put forth in my previous essay, he is imperfect because (among other things) he never truly triumphs over evil, but seemingly co-exists with it. But Batman is a sort of Christ figure nonetheless. This is particularly apparent in Christopher Nolan’s portrayal of Batman in the film The Dark Knight. In the film Batman defeats all sorts of evil, but in the end must run from the very people he swore to protect… taking the fall for the crimes that so many of Gotham’s citizen have committed themselves.

Nolan, widely held to be a nihilist due to his films like Following and Memento, portrays Batman as a scapegoat, a sacrificial lamb… but in a heroic way; and the film it self became at the time the second highest grossing movie of all time. This is what we call common grace at work, my friends. (See footnote 3) And not simply content to leave Batman as a willing sacrifice, Nolan realized that his story was not finished and ultimately decided to make a third Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises. (Are you seeing anymore Christ-like parallels here?) Nolan, a secular and a pagan, could not leave the hero in the dark; the nihilist could not end with nihilism. Strange, huh?

So if Batman is Jesus, then Commissioner Jim Gordon is Noah, he is Adam, he is David, he is Lot, he is us. Commissioner Gordon is the one righteous man in a sea of sin and iniquity. He strives to raise a faithful and good son, he stands up for the just, and condemns evil… no matter the price. He has been on the receiving end of both mockery and car bombs… and he simply could not do it anymore. Suddenly, without warning, and just in the nick of time comes Batman. A thief in the night, a righter of wrongs, a Knight… and Knight who takes on the Clown Prince of Crime (Prince of Darkness anyone?). He sacrifices himself to this end: to defeat evil for good, and to return to city of Gotham to the glory it once had and restore it to the good people who inhabit it.

If and when Batman won and was no longer needed, Bruce Wayne would return to his seat as king of Gotham. (Yes, I know that I am extending this metaphor pretty far.) And from his tower he would watch as Gordon and those whom he had put in positions of authority after disposing of the corrupt leaders took charge and ruled the city under him. They would have inherited Gotham after and long and bloody battle. They would have a newfound dominion over Gotham. A rule and dominion that Batman fully intended to give to them all along.





(1) O'Neil, Dennis. Afterword. Batman: Knightfall, A Novel. New York: Bantam Books, 1994. 344.

(2) For those of you who will upset by my choice of words, let me assure you that when I refer to “man” I am using it as John Frame and the entirety of the Scriptures us it: to refer to all humankind; male and female. I am not a feminist, but I do want them to read what I write. So let’s just call this clarification a compromise so that I don’t have to compromise. For a further and more exhaustive explanation, please see the preface to John Frame’s book The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God.

(3 )Reformed systematic theologian Louis Berkhof defined common grace this way: “[Common grace] curbs the destructive power of sin, maintains in a measure the moral order of the universe, thus making an orderly life possible, distributes in varying degrees gifts and talents among men, promotes the development of science and art, and showers untold blessings upon the children of men.” More simply put, this means that while not all people will be saved, all will retain some sort of common instinct of holiness and understanding of good that God placed in them… even if they choose to suppress it. For more awesome stuff that Berkhof said, check out his book called very simply: Systematic Theology.

Batman and Dualism

Like all superheroes, Batman has died time and time and time again. There have probably been as many funerals for the Dark Knight as there have been for the Man of Steel. Like all DC Comic’s heroes, however, he is always back and locking baddies in Arkham within the month.

But there is something very unique about Batman’s many funerals: the attendees. The Dark Knight’s entire rouge gallery is nearly always in attendance. Poison Ivy weeping quietly, propping up her head against Harley Quinn. Penguin looks absolutely devastated, and the Joker… the Joker looks the saddest of all… as if his best friend in the entire world has just passed away. What is going on here?

One of the central philosophies surrounding the Batman mythos is that the crime that pervades Gotham created him, and that he in turn is the reason that crime in Gotham continues. Hugo Strange even explicitly states in Arkham City that Batman is the reason that the criminals exist; the corruption in Gotham is his fault. (See footnote 1)

The Joker, however, is the main character to espouse this belief. The Clown Prince of Gotham truly is the antithesis of Batman. He is joyful where Batman is gloomy; he finds immense satisfaction in what he does while Batman is often conflicted and unsure of what he is supposed to do next. Their stories are often like a dark and intricate dance; the Joker initiating an event and daring the Dark Knight to chase him down and solve the mystery, right the wrong, save the citizen. Sometimes the Joker seems to do it simply for the pleasure of the crime, but more often than not, it becomes clear that he simply missed Batman and wanted to “hang out”… even if it is on his own terms and in his own twisted way.

In Grant Morrison’s Arkham Asylum there is even a sexual undertone to the Joker’s relationship with Batman, even though it is not reciprocated by Batman himself. The Joker wears high heals throughout this book, and occasionally makes quips about the fact that the person closest to Batman is a young boy (Batman’s sidekick Robin). In Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns, the Joker even goes so far as to wear makeup.

As I said before, what on earth is going on? Dualism, my friends.

Josiah, what’s dualism? Well, to understand dualism we’re going to have to go back a bit… And by a bit, I mean a lot.

Dualism started with the Greeks, or at least the Greeks gave it its most prevalent form, in that good and evil coexist, always have coexisted and always will. Dualism does not necessitate the belief that good and evil will continue to coexist forever , but the most consistent dualists view both as co-eternal. A more common dualistic view is that of good and evil both existing at the beginning of things and then one triumphing over the other by the end of time. Examples include Norse mythology where chaos will ultimately triumph over good, and Platonism where the opposite is true.

This notion of dualism has even permeated the circles of Christian thought, where it is now incredibly hard to see a world where God existed and evil did not. (See footnote 2) Most Christians readily accept the fact that God and Christ will triumph over Satan and death at the end of time, but for most modern Christians, it is very hard to separate God from the world we live in. But as Christians we must accept that He is completely self-sufficient. He did not need us, but made us solely because He willed it and for His own joy.

The central philosophy of the modern Batman flies in the face of the idea that good can exist without evil. While it would probably be accurate to blame the Dark Knight’s eternal fight against crime on the comic industry’s need for continued sales, since Batman is one of DC Comic’s most popular characters, it does not negate the fact that he never triumphs. Batman is locked in an eternal struggle where he can not defeat his enemies and his enemies cannot defeat him. One or the other may die, but eventually Batman and the Joker will be back at it again with some new quarrel.

Paul Dini’s Arkahm City is the closest I have seen a Batman story come to closure. (WARNING, SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!) The story chronicles the story of Arkham Asylum after super villain Hugo Strange expands the madhouse to take up the entirety of Gotham’s northern island. Batman, while looking for Strange, and trying to shut down the Asylum expansion (which has become a liability for Gotham itself and its citizens), he is kidnapped by Joker, who infuses Batman with some of his blood. It turns out the Joker is dying of a chronic illness and with the blood transfusion he has given the disease to Batman as will. Batman scrambles to find the cure, running into many of his old enemies along the way. Eventually Batman is able to procure a treatment for the disease and takes it to Joker. The Joker, however, wants the cure all for himself and intends to leave Batman for dead. In the resulting scuffle, Joker destroys the last vial of half-drunk antidote, which would have been used to save his life.

The Joker realizes that he is finally finished, and laughs as Batman tells him that if had he not destroyed the vial, he actually would have healed the Joker. The final scene depicts Batman cradling the dead body of the Joker and carrying out of Arkham into an impending dawn.

While this story will probably not be accepted as the canonical death of the Joker, I like to view it as such, for it ends the dualism of Batman. Evil is finally defeated for good, yet Batman himself never caves to murder, and remains untainted as the compassionate defender of Gotham City.



(1) This was not always the case. The yin-yang relationship between Batman and the villains that he is continually fighting is a modern notion that began in the 70s and 80s when British writers like Grant Morrison and Alan Moore took over writing the adventures of the Dark Knight. They decided to take a rather pessimistic view of Batman as a sort of reaction to the happy-go-lucky tone of Batman comics in the 50s and 60s. I blame this on the pessimism of the period, not on the British, of course.

(2) This is dealt with in Saint Augustine’s theory of sin and evil as the absence of God. However, this is about Batman and dualism, not Augustine, so that will have to wait until another time.