Superhero Top Trump cards on the table, I’m no comic book expert. In order to burnish the protagonist of my new novel, My Brother is a Superhero, with a sheen of knowledge, I lurked on internet forums where presumably otherwise sane individuals hiss at each other over who would win in a fight between Thor and Superman*. My research led me down alleys spurned by Batman, to meet heroes with, shall we say questionable abilities. It is these individuals and their duff powers I want to celebrate today.
*(Thor, I learned. He has magic. Superman is susceptible to magic. It’s his other kryptonite.)
1. I’ve always had a soft spot for the superhero origin story, particularly that moment when the soon-to-be-super discovers his new powers. But how about waking up after that brush with the gamma ray machine to discover that you are now… Arm Fall Off Boy? Was he able to make other people’s arms fall off? That would have been significantly more useful than his actual power, which was the ability to detach one arm and deploy it as a club. Arm Fall Off Boy featured in a single issue. My theory is that he came about as the result of a lost bet.
2. Asbestos Man. You have to feel sorry for this supervillain. Originally dreamt up in the years before the dangers of asbestos were understood, his fireproofing helped him to defeat the Human Torch. The brilliance of the comic book writers was in resurrecting him decades later, his asbestos super suit having taken its toll on him in the intervening years. Thus, we meet him again now forced to live in an oxygen tent, suffering from cancer.
3. Even as a child I had reservations about Captain Scarlet, hero of the colour-coded SPECTRUM organisation, defending Earth against the invading Mysterons. You may recall the theme song and its insistent refrain: Indestructible Captain Scarlet. Which made watching a typical episode a bloodless affair. Look out for that fatal alien Death Ray, Captain Scarlet! Oh wait. File under Problems of Making your Superhero Too Powerful. I’m currently experiencing my own overpowered issues. In book one I gave my super the power of telepathy. Now, as I write the sequel, I’m having to come up with ways to circumvent its effectiveness, and with each fresh contortion I gain greater understanding of the thriller writer’s foaming hatred for the existence of the mobile phone.
4. Though he first appeared in 1940, I would contend that the original Green Lantern is a superhero for our time: the source of his power is a portable device that has to be recharged every 24 hours. Come on, that’s a gift. I don’t know if the recent movie made use of this deep contemporary resonance since, like everyone else, I didn’t go see it. At least, unlike our previous entry, Green Lantern’s creators ensured that his powers were limited. In his case, they didn’t work on wood. Evidently succumbing to the petitions of the wood lobby (or maybe they just ran out of wood-based villains) that changed for a dose of realism. Subsequently his ring’s power became ineffective against anything coloured yellow. Of course.
5. Ant-Man. Controversial choice this one. With the movie version imminent, clearly someone is betting that the world wants to watch a superhero with the ability to shrink to the size of an ant and use a fancy helmet in order to control ants. Then again, last year’s box office superhero hit starred a sentient alien tree whose entire vocabulary consisted of the phrase, I am Groot. Compared with that, Ant-Man is Hamlet. (You have no idea the willpower it took not to use Antony & Cleopatra or The Merchant of Venice.)
6. Bouncing Boy. According to his origin story he downed a secret formula, mistaking it for an innocuous bottle of cola. But I’m not so sure. The immediate after effects were severe bloating and hyperactivity. My biggest disappointment with Bouncing Boy is that he didn’t have to face off against The Skittler, or fall for the charms of The Trampette.
7. I empathise with the comic book creator’s impulse to bestow less than perfect superpowers on his characters. Underpowered superheroes leave open the possibility of defeat and raise the story stakes. Still doesn’t explain Stone Boy. An alien from a distant planet with the power to petrify… himself. OK, so you’re thinking that when assaulting the villain’s castle, turning yourself into a breeze block battering ram might come in useful. Except that when Stone Boy goes full statue, he becomes as immobile as one. Effectively, he’s a stone slab. Someone created a character whose superpower is to turn himself into a patio.
8. In the course of writing my superhero story I had cause to make one of the characters comment on the lack of French superheroes. Checking the accuracy of this statement I came across Superdupont. It’s neither the weaponised baguette nor the utility belt stocked with cheese that are my favourite aspects of his character. No, it has to be his constant sidekick – a pack of Gauloises. Remember, he’s a professional Frenchman. Don’t try this at home, kids.
9. Which power would you choose between flying or invisibility? On comic book forums this question comes up a lot. Really, comic book people? As if there’s an equivalence. Who wants invisibility when they could fly? Case in point, the early iteration of the Fantastic Four’s Sue Storm. Back then she wasn’t even Invisible Woman, she was Invisible Girl, but she might as well have been called Hostage Girl, judging by the number of times she had to be rescued. There’s probably a paper to be written about Sue Storm’s evolution into one of the more powerful superheroes in the canon. OK, I just checked, someone already wrote it: Invisible Girl’s Quest for Visibility: Early Second Wave Feminism and the Comic Book Superheroine.
10. In the long history of dubious superpowers, we could hardly ignore Doc Docket. Back when the internet was worth taking over, he was the supervillain intent on doing so. His power? The ability to generate evil, sentient top 10 lists. OK, I just made this one up.
And finally, an apology to any comic book aficionados who have taken the time to read this piece, and now, outrage stoked by my ignorance, are poised to come down on me like Mjölnir (that’s Thor’s hammer, right?). Just to head off that whole internet arguing thing: you’re right. I’m wrong. Remember, with no power comes no responsibility.
David Solomons is the author of My Brother is a Superhero in which Luke is a comic-mad 11-year-old who shares a treehouse with his geeky older brother, Zach. Luke’s only mistake is to need a wee right at the wrong moment. While he’s gone, an alien gives his undeserving, never-read-a-comic-in-his-life brother superpowers, then tells him to save the universe. Luke is massively annoyed about this, but when Zach is kidnapped by his arch-nemesis, Luke and his friends only have five days to find him and save the world… Buy My Brother is a Superhero at the Guardian bookshop.
