Last night, Kathy and I and four friends went to the Milwaukee Repertory Theater to see a play with the intriguing title “The History of Invulnerability,” which tells the story of Jerry Siegel, the man who created Superman.  I knew a little bit about the story of this working class guy from Cleveland who created this superhero, then foolishly signed away ownership of the character and missed out on what should have been a pathway to incredible wealth and prestige.  I knew the bare bones facts of the story,  but this play allowed us to meet Jerry Siegel, the charming if flawed human being, and to deeply sympathize with his frustration and heartbreak.

Our friend Kate Barrow had heard about the play and it was her idea for us to attend it, but none of us had seen it before or knew anything about it …. so it felt like a bit of a gamble.  But as Kathy and I first arrived at the theater, we bumped into a theater professor from UW-Parkside,  Jaime Cheatem, who did some work on the combat scenes.  He told us that this was a spectacularly complicated show with approximately 3000 technical cues involving lights, sound, video, etc. – and that what we were about to see what an incredible visual feast.  And he was right!  But we were equally mesmerized by the superb acting of the whole cast, and especially the man who portrayed Siegel with such winning charm.

The main subplot of the play, which I wasn’t prepared for, was that Siegel was one of a whole generation of Jewish men who created an array superheroes just as the horrors of the Nazi’s Final Solution were first emerging.   The play suggests that by creating such heroes and Superman and Batman, these men were trying to confront the worst demons of their time as well as their own frustration and powerlessness.   And in addressing this part of the story,  the play and this production do not shy away from the brutal elements of the tale.   By the way, there is plenty of engaging humor as well – in no way is this an unrelenting slog through despair and injustice.  This is also a very entertaining story of a talented, good-hearted guy whose bungling is a major cause of his troubles but who never quite loses hope.  And by the way, helping to tell the story is Superman himself.

The play shares plenty of interesting information about the Superman phenomenon, especially as it unfolded in the 1930’s and 1940’s – including the startling statistic that 90% of American boys were reading Superman comic books or otherwise following his exploits one way or another.  There had been other heroes before that, such as Zorro, The Shadow, and Tarzan …. but this hero connected with young boys (and with a few young girls)  like no other hero ever had.   And hearing that got me thinking about my own fascination with super heroes, which gripped me as a young boy and has not entirely loosened its grip even at the ripe old age of 54.

The super hero universe used to be split right down the middle between DC (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Aquaman, Justice League, Legion of Super Heroes, Teen Titans) and Marvel (Spider Man, Captain America,  Iron Man, Thor,  The Incredible Hulk, Wolverine, Sub Mariner,  The Avengers,  Fantastic Four, The X-Men)  and while certain Marvel heroes intrigued me, my deepest loyalty was always with the DC heroes.  They tended to be much less complicated and less flawed than their Marvel counterparts,  who were as busy wrestling with their own inner demons as they were fighting their foes.  I guess I needed my heroes and their heroism to be largely undiluted with the complications of real life.  By the way,   DC heroes have darkened quite a lot in recent years – more so than I would like – but DC is still where my heart is.  (But oddly enough,  when my cousin Kristian dug out his box of homemade comic books, which include a few some drawn by me,  I was amused and surprised to find that my comic books almost always featured DC and Marvel heroes fighting side-by-side …. which made about as much sense as Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock (from Star Trek) rescuing Princess Leia (from Star Wars), but that’s where my imagination carried me.

What drew me to the world of super heroes back then?  The same thing that draws the four nerds of TV”s The Big Bang Theory and the vast majority of comic book readers: the fantasy of a world where the bullies and meanies around us  are plenty scary, but are no match for the strong, compassionate, and heroic “good guys” (who, of course, aren’t all guys.)   I should add that I while I was a prime candidate for being bullied, I didn’t suffer anything too terrible – not the kind of horrific bullying that you so often hear about today.   I was a world-class nerd for sure ….  a shy, bespectacled shrimp ….. a complete klutz ….. the kind of kid who posed for his 7th grade school photo wearing a plastic pocket protector bulging with pens and thought nothing of it.   And certainly I was the one of the very last kids to be picked whenever the barbarically brutal practice of “choosing sides” happened in gym class.  For a kid like me, there was something immensely satisfying and soothing (and exciting) about a fantasy world inhabited by kind-hearted heroes who always always carried the day.  I never wanted to be one of those heroes: I have no recollection whatsoever of running around with a towel as a cape, pretending to be a hero.   But I certainly wanted those kind of heroes to exist.  And even today, at the age of 54, I still do.

So did Jerry Siegel.  He longed for a hero with the courage – and the compassion – and the might – to stand up against unspeakable darkness.   That’s why he gave us Superman. And last night, it was exciting to be reminded of just why that gift has meant so much to so many people like me for more than three quarters of a century.

Pictured above:  This is a still from the Superman cartoon that aired on Saturday mornings in the late 1960’s.  When I think about the character of Superman,  this is what first comes to mind for me – before the movies, before Super Friends, before the 50’s TV series, and even before the comic books.