The other history of the DC universe, IV.

The other history of the DC universe, vol. 4. 

IV: 1992 - 2007. Renee Montoya. 

- John Ridley, et al

For the fourth volume, we return to a very famous place —Gotham City, as seen through the eyes of policewoman-turned-superhero Montoya. An unflinching, uncompromising, and so very queer look!

This is another volume that garnered strange comments from the kind of fans who obsess over minutiae and continuity, always a rather peculiar notion in the kind of product that by definition is never in any fixed timeline despite often bromidic reassurances from marketing. In this case, complains about Montoya not acting in a perfect way —for all that it’s a story about and against the very notion of white-washing. 

It asks us not to take what we have been told for granted. Starting with the infamous alliance between Batman and Jim Gordon —what makes us think it’s not constantly under vigilance? (“Gordon volunteered to work as a liaison between the department and the Bat. That was fine for the brass. With Gordon they had a trusted cop to keep an eye on the Bat, and a fall guy if things went south”). Or the rich characters we are used to seeing as heroes or innocents (“The Drakes and the St. Clouds and the Elliots. The Kanes and the Waynes. Their wealth was built largely on copper mines and steel mills. But mostly it was built on the backs of the men and women and sometimes children who toiled under the earth and beside the blistering smelting cauldrons of the moneyed class”). Gotham as neither a place of wacky adventures nor a surreal hell —merely a big city like so many, except that this one wears its problems on its sleeve. 

This unflinching look from Montoya extends to herself, as she takes us through her absolute worst moments —but in order to emerge not just stronger on the other side, but as her true self. That she openly admits her own flaws, some previously stated and some new, seems to be what most bothered a few longtime readers. This bizarre demand for minority characters, especially Queer ones, to be absolutely perfect and to never do any wrong. This peculiar insistence to forget that it was always the fringe of society that first took us in, that is our true land. 

Once Renee embraces her true self we see the theme of the superhero not so much as a power fantasy but as an act of liberation (“The mask’s lack of features and the suit and tie that amounted to a costume added an element of queerness to my character. It went against the notion that everything must fit a label that already exists. To the contrary of that, there is something about placing yourself beyond definition”). 

A story, then about embracing one’s true self, flaws and all. Not the squeaky-clean others, inside and outside the tale, would want us to be, but ourselves as we are. Something quite necessary to keep in mind, always.

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