Marvel or DC?

“So... Marvel or DC?”

I looked up from my little section of the new arrivals table and stared at the man across from me. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, Marvel or DC?” A smug smile formed on his face as he then announced, “I bet you’re Marvel, aren’t you? All girls are Marvel. It’s a thing! Well, I’m DC! Marvel can suck my–” I returned my attention back to the glossy covered comics in front of me and tried not to open up a whole can of kick-butt on this stranger and his pseudo-science.

Marvel or DC? It’s the inevitable question. No matter what comic book store or convention you go to, or related conversation you have, that question will arise. People expect you to align yourself with one side or the other and if you do not pick you will be treated as if you are some wishy-washy, indecisive outlaw.

If most people would agree that art is not a sport, then why do we approach this artistic endeavor with a sports mentality? Marvel or DC? So which team are you on? What? No. I am on neither team, because this is not a team sport. These are comic books! No one should have to choose between Marvel and DC; nor should they. It is impossible to prescribe the title of winner or loser in the world of art. There are no rules here to abide by and there is no set finish line to cross, no ball to carry to touchdown. That being said, even if there was some sort of situation in which you absolutely had to choose between one or another, do not choose between the companies that produce the comics, choose between actual content creators.

The comic book world is an anomaly. It’s similar to the video game world, in the sense that company names are very closely associated, if not more important than the product. Though then again, it’s not quite so simple. One video game requires dozens and dozens of programmers, animators, audio engineers, game designers and scriptwriters –who all belong to the company. In this case it makes sense for the company name to represent the efforts of all of the employees. However, for a comic book series, often only one writer, artist, and colourist are needed –all of who may not be exclusive to their current publisher.

Perhaps then, the comic world is more comparable to the literary one? Again, not exactly. The relationship an author of a novel has with his or her publisher is wildly different from one a comic author or artist has. When you think of the Harry Potter series, it’s not Bloomsbury Publishing that you credit for the genius story, but J.K Rowling. The same cannot be said for the Superman franchise (which is arguably even more well known). Rather than the names Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, readers recognize the DC brand, stamped on the corner of each issue, as the father of the Man of Steel.

I lingered a little longer in the shop after the stranger left. As I made my way around to his side of the table I picked up a few stray comics that he left out. I filed away Daredevil, tucked the Justice League into its original place and placed Green Arrow back on the correct pile. The girl behind the counter peeked over her computer screen and said, “Hey, you don’t need to do that. Just leave ‘em there I’ll get them in a sec.”

“It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”

“Ehhh. Alright, thanks, man. Hey! So, you thinking about getting the new X-men? I hear it’s pretty crazy.”

“Totally! Brian Michael Bendis is so cool.”