Counting Off: "All Flash #1" & the Death of Bart Allen

Barry Allen is evil.

I guess there's probably a narrow slice of the reading public who've felt that way, but it so happens my first Flash story was the "Return of Barry Allen". As a teenager, it's no wonder the story had me riveted. Young Wally West, who has spent the last several years not just grappling with the loss of his beloved uncle, but fighting his way out from under the shadow of Barry Allen, is suddenly faced with Barry's return and Wally's outright dismissal by his idol. Who of course turns out to be Professor Zoom, but at the time, my introduction to Barry Allen was that Barry was pretty much a dick.

A lot of my foundational superhero experiences centered around the big upheavals at DC. The death of Superman, the breaking of Batman (each issue of Knightfall was read allowed to my little brother, who was left in a state of absolute panic for two weeks that Batman might be dead), the corruption of Hal Jordan. Torches were being passed every which way in the DCU when I was a kid and I was on board for all of it.

But my favorite superhero books, by far, were James Robinson's "Starman" and Mark Waid's "Flash".

I still think that these runs showcase one of the things DC has that Marvel doesn't. The idea of the legacy hero.

Peter Parker is Spiderman. This is an identity statement and is meant to be reciprocal. Spiderman is Peter Parker. If something happens to Peter Parker, Spiderman ends. Ditto for the members of the Fantastic Four, the individual X-Men, Iron Man and the Hulk. The only Marvel hero that could be considered for the title of legacy hero is the Marvel U's most recent casualty, Captain America, and so far Marvel is making the very clear case that Steve Rogers is/was Captain America and Captain America is/was Steve Rogers.

Incidentally, if no one's already told you you should be reading "Captain America", let me be the first. You should be reading "Captain America".

That isn't the way in the DCU. The Flash isn't necessarily Barry Allen, Green Lantern isn't necessarily Hal Jordan, Wonder Woman isn't necessarily Diana Prince. If Batman gets offed, there's a whole list of candidates to pick up the cape and cowl. I know plenty of people who aren't down with this, who want the Marvel costume=person equation to be enforced in the DCU, but books like "Flash" and "Starman" demonstrate how many amazing story possibilities the idea of a legacy hero opens up.

(I'll mostly leave off talking about "Starman" here, with an eye towards perhaps talking about Robinson's saga of the Knight family at a later date)

During Waid's run on the title, Wally West developed from snotty little ingrate into full-fledged hero through fighting through the influence of his predescessor. I remember a whole sequence around the revelation that Wally had limited himself because he didn't want to be faster than Barry. Not content to stop there, Waid introduced another father/mentor figure for Wally in Jay Garrick, a guru-type mentor in Max Mercury, another legacy in the Quick family and finally, a young ward for Wally in Bart Allen.

In short, a Flash family, tied together by blood and speed. "The Flash" became not just one person, but a kind of floating concept, a sort of heroic idea that was open to particpation by any number of individuals, each of whom could bring their own style to the role of the Flash. Flashes could mentor each other, teach each other how to handle the powers they'd picked up.

This meant that the concept, the legacy, could be constantly reinterpreted and, therefore, reinvigorated. It's easy to say that DC got rid of folks like Hal Jordan and Barry Allen was for the sake of cynical money-grubbing, but there's also a distinct possibility that at the time, folks had just run out of stories to tell about Hall and Barry. But the red suit still looked pretty damn cool, a magic ring powered by will and imagination was still compelling, so what to do? DC has built in a system where, if a concept works but a character's gone stale, you just switch out the character.

If only Marvel was able to do this, we'd have been saved a load of unbearable Spiderman stories. It's been the case for years that no one's been able to think up a decent Peter Parker story, as evidenced by the fact that the most compelling Spiderman comic in the past ten years was "Reign", dealing with a retired and elderly Peter Parker.

All of which is meant to bring us to "All Flash #1". I think DC made an unfortunate move by offing Bart Allen; it seems to me there were plenty of stories left in the character and it's too bad that his brief run as the Flash was botched by an ill-fitting creative team. Credit to Marc Guggenheim for his efforts to salvage the character, even knowing Bart was doomed. But I'm thrilled at the pairing of Mark Waid and Wally West. If Mark can tell good stories about Wally West, then Wally's return is warrented and removing the character from the stage for a bit to change his context, to further allow for fresh storytelling, is laudable. The wringer DC put Hal Jordan through have made an interesting character out of what had been a narrative dead end, and even if you disagree with the Parallax-to-Spectre-to-GL course of Hal's career, you'd be hardpressed to argue that a lot of the Green Latern stuff near the end of Hal's first career was pretty crappy. The introduction of Kyle Rayner made a whole lot of people care about Green Lantern again and opened up the idea of what Green Lantern could be. And it means fans could choose their favorite. Back in the day, a Flash reader could throw his loyalty behind the zen parables of Max Mercury, the Greatest Generation steadfastness of Jay Garrick, the entreprenuerial zeal of Johnny Quick or the single synapse antics of Bart Allen. Hell, next month, Kyle and Hal are throwing down in GL. Evilness aside, I'm rooting for Kyle.

Some characters may be inexhaustible. There may always be new amazing stories to write about Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne, but having other characters take on the role (thinking here of Knightfall and Reign of Supermen) can give the audience and the characters the opportunity to reexamine what Superman or Batman could be. Comic books are perpetually caught up in stasis: characters die only to return, characters go decades without aging. But by rendering its iconic characters as roles that can be adopted, abandoned, in short, changed, DC allows at least the potential for change and, at the same, the assurance of permanence. Whoever's behind the mask, there's always going to be a Batman, a Green Lantern, a Flash.

Call me semi-old fashioned, but for right now and until it gets dull, I'm glad it's Wally West in the red tights.