Introduction: Why I Hate Flashpoint

From May through August of 2011, DC Comics suspended three months' publication of The Flash to make room for an event called Flashpoint. [1] Consisting of a five-issue miniseries for the main narrative, accompanied by numerous tie-in miniseries, one-shots, and issues of ongoing series, the story unfolded over 61 separate issues. Flashpoint was an alternate timeline tale, set in a world where the Flash never got his powers, where Wonder Woman's home of Themyscira was at war with Aquaman's Atlantis, and all the familiar DC characters took on new roles to match their changed circumstances. In the last few pages, the entire DC universe was rebooted.

As a story, Flashpoint was nothing particularly special. As a universe-altering event, it was a massive disappointment. Not because it failed to alter the universe; quite the contrary, the "New 52" that followed for the next few years was the most radical break with the past that DC had ever made. And this is saying something, because for almost four decades, periodically breaking with the past has been DC's signature move. But the way that the changes were introduced violated all the norms that had been established for significant reboots, which might have been worth it had the series offered anything novel in exchange. Instead, the failures of Flashpoint are a case study in exactly how continuity works in corporate comics, the connections to the superhero genre and its traditions of vigilantism and intervention, and the affective bonds that such comics rely on in order to give their stories value.

This book investigates all of these questions (and not just with Flashpoint), in the hopes of establishing nothing less than a Grand Theory of Corporate Superhero Comics.

But first, some background.

Next: Continuity and Finitude (on July 11)