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July
/ august 2006:
It's
a Bird, it's a plane, it's a... jew?
The author of a new book on Jews and comic books tells us about Superman's tribal beginnings.
Essay by Rabbi Simcha Weinstein
More
than twenty years since he last flew across the
big screen, a beloved superhero finally comes home this
summer with the release of the blockbuster movie Superman
Returns.
In this latest installment, the man in tights comes back to Metropolis at the end of a cosmic quest, investigating the facts behind the destruction of his home planet, Krypton. And things at home have changed. Lois Lane, the love of Superman’s life, has moved on in his absence. Worse, his old nemesis, Lex Luthor, is plotting to render the Man of Steel powerless once and for all — then destroy the helpless world.
Superman Returns is being called one of the
most expensive movies ever made, with a budget in excess
of $200 million. It’s a long, long way from 1938, when
a couple of Jewish boys from Ohio were paid $130 for
the very first Superman story. (Today, a mint condition
copy of that comic book, if you’re lucky enough to find
one, will set you back almost a half-million bucks).
The 1930s and 1940s were arguably the most anti-Semitic period in American history. The German-American Bund marched legions of rabid followers through many cities, including the hometown of those two young men, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. In response, the writer and illustrator invented the most famous comic book superhero of all time.
From the very beginning, the Superman mythos reflected his creators’ Jewish backgrounds. For example, the superhero’s origin story (as fans refer to it) bears more than a passing resemblance to the great Exodus tale. Yocheved places Moses in a reed basket and sets him afloat on the Nile before he can be killed by Pharaoh’s henchmen. Likewise, Superman’s father Jor-El launches a little rocket ship containing his son into outer space when he realizes Krypton is about to disintegrate. That symbol comes full circle in the new film, when Superman journeys back to earth in the very same type of space pod.
Superman and his nebbish alter ego Clark Kent are now
recognized, in retrospect, as a complex symbol of immigrant
identity and assimilation — the embodiment of the American
dream, as imagined by two second generation Jews. Howard
Jacobson of the London Times has called Superman,
“the boy with the Kabbalistic name, the boy from the
shtetl. Superman might be Jewish, but it’s only so long
as no one knows he’s Jewish that he is capable of performing
wonders. And you can’t get more Jewish than that.”
Superman’s ethics are Jewish ethics. Like all of us, Superman is called to restore order and balance in the world. We may not do it while wearing a cape and a big “S” on our chests, but universal messages of duty and justice still come across clearly, via the unlikely vehicle of a comic book for kids.
According to the Jewish sages, we all have a double identity, too. Man is the fusion of matter and spirit, a body and soul. The body cleaves to this physical world, while the soul longs for the spiritual. Likewise, Superman often wants nothing more than to retreat to his aptly named mountain hideaway, the Fortress of Solitude. And who wouldn’t want to meditate up in the Alps, far from mundane cares? Especially after a long, hard day of leaping tall buildings in a single bound.
The real world may not live up to your expectations: your long lost love ran off with someone else, your nemesis is out to get you, your boss doesn’t give you much credit, and the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Yet, you are right where you need to be.
That’s Superman’s dilemma, and ours, too. No wonder
this unlikely comic book story has enchanted millions
of readers for decades. This summer, Superman Returns
will introduce the Man of Steel (and his very Jewish
story) to a whole new generation. 
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