Miles Morales and How Diversity Makes Stories Better

             

        Recently, I watched a youtube essay about how the 'Spiderverse' film "fixed" Miles Morales.
        I'm a bit of a Miles fan, so I clicked on it, expecting to disagree with a lot of the points raised, and... I didn't. In fact, it raised some thoughts which I, being the generous soul that I am, will now share.

        (I am a river to my people.)

        I mean, I get that Legacy Characters (especially with beloved - someone uncharitable might say 'rabid' - characters like Spider-Man) are difficult to pull off. Make them too different from the original, and the fans reject it ("That's Supposed To Be Spider-Man!?"), but make it too similar, and people question why you'd even bother ("Why would I want to read about this guy, when the Real Spider-Man is right here!?"). And I think Miles hits that sweet spot pretty well, but the creators of the essay raise a lot of valid points. And I do LOVE 'Into The Spider-Verse'.

        But there's one point they miss, and I think it's important. Throughout the essay, they refer back to original co-creator (with artist Sara Pichelli), the writer, Brian Michael Bendis. Now Bendis can be a divisive figure. He gets a lot of work, his style has some notable idiosyncrasies, and some fans just like hating on stuff... but again, that's overlooking something very important.

        Brian Michael Bendis is white.        

        Now, that's all well and good, and there's no crime in being white, but when you're a professional creator, you will occasionally have to step out of your own skin into that of characters who are different to you. There are all sorts of ways to do that, and it can be done well or badly. Research is important, and seeking out assistance can be an important part of that. 
        Also, a lot of people will employ Sensitivity Readers, because in the end, it's easy to trip up when you're trying to keep all those balls in the air, and so easy to miss something, because in the end, nothing beats Lived Experience. 

        The crew of 'Into the Spider-Verse' are largely white, but one of the three directors is black. Many of the major cast members are black and Latino. And in general, there are a LOT more creative 'oars in the water' with a feature film production in terms of making sure each element comes together just right.

        So what you ended up with as a final product had the potential to be something different to what you'd get from just a handful of creators. You got a richer relationship between Miles and his family. You got a richer and more immersive environment. You got wonderful character moments like Miles' dad dropping him off at school, or his Uncle teaching him about girls, the conversation through the door, and even little things like Miles artwork, the music... all those wonderful little details that end up making the whole thing richer, more meaningful, and a more immersive experience. Which isn't to say that massive committees are always the way to go, but encouraging those voices to speak up and not preventing them from being heard makes for a richer product.

        Representation is important. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Growing up, I was a fat kid with a big vocabulary (all them funnybooks rotting my brain) and I copped my fair share of teasing for both. But what made it worse was that all the media seemed to back up what those kids were saying. Fat people were greedy and mean and sneaky. And people who talked with big words were peevish and out of touch and ridiculous. I mean, sure, my Mum says I'm cool, but it's hard to believe it when everything else is saying otherwise. Except for a couple of exceptions. 

        First was 'Fat Albert'. Bill Cosby's misdeeds aside, Albert was, weirdly enough for a character with that name, a character who wasn't defined by his fatness. Sure' the dude was carrying some serious poundage, but what was important about him was his empathy, his kindness, his thoughtfulness. He was a part of a circle of friends who treated him with the same regard as they treated any one of their circle. He was welcome, accepted, respected and loved. 
        Second was the one-two punch of 'Big Words' from Jack Kirby's 'Newsboy Legion' comic series and William Harper Littlejohn (a.k.a. 'Johnny') from Doc Savage's crew of assistants. Both characters spoke in a bewildering cacophony of polysyllabic legerdemain, but were again welcomed and beloved within their respective circles and their enthusiasm for language was accepted as much as any other quirk, and didn't affect their respect and fondness for their friend.

        Now I'm not about to equate being a chubby smart-alec in a comfortable suburban neighbourhood to being black, or LGBTQ+, or suffering genuine persecution and oppression, but what I will say is that seeing positive representations of people like me made an incalculable difference, and I'm not about to deny that for someone else. However, while seeing a face like yours on a screen or a page is good, having someone with a face like yours creating that work is better, because it's easy enough for a white cis/het dude like me to draw or write any sort of character I like - Imagination's a hell of a thing - getting all the marvellous tiny details just right is something else instead. 

        But representation's not just good for the people being depicted. One of the things I love most about stories is the ability to hear other people's. I want to see worlds beyond my own. I want to know things I didn't know before. I want to feel new sensations, think new thoughts and experience new experiences. I want to fertilize the rich soil of my mind with the seed of magical and astounding new thoughts, ideas and feelings.
        There's a whole, wide world of new, different and amazing stories we've never heard before and so many people just crying out to tell them. It's simple. When you suddenly stop silencing and excluding voices, you suddenly discover an almost limitless array of new, rich, fresh stories you may never have even imagined before, from perspectives you've never thought of, and that's fucking glorious.

        What's Up, Danger?