Folklore and the Comic Book:
The Traditional Meets the Popular

Amanda Carson Banks
Elizabeth E. Wein

"What is the functional equivalent of the folktales and myths of the past in the technological and commercialized world of today? The answer is to be found in comic strips, movies and dimestore literature. It is to these that the folklorist must go if he wishes to avoid becoming antiquated."1

In attempting to explain the inexplicable, in striving to control phenomena over which there is no control, in the search for means of expression, humankind has sublimated the mysteries of the world by turning them into metaphors. Art is a metaphor for life: to create art is a way to apply "one kind of thing, quality or action . . . to another, in the form of an identity instead of comparison."2 In all forms of art, the receptive party is expected to ignore that one is looking at canvas, figured movement, or colored light thrown on a screen without "purpose," and to temporarily believe that what one appreciates is real, that it is life. And what is a more common trope for describing this than to say that "art reflects life?"

An art form, literature obviously reflects life, making use of the store of human experiences and beliefs through all our millennia of living. The use of folklore and cultural motifs and vocabulary is a popular and immediate way in which this is accomplished. The study of the use of traditional folklore and contemporary or popular motifs in literature is not only an exercise in cultural study, it is a means by which to isolate and identify the crucial elements and telling ways in which society takes and makes use of these millennia of human experiences.

As Alan Dundes pointed out in 1965, there is, however, commonly a dichotomy between folklorists dealing with literature and those dealing with culture.3 Because the study of folklore in literature is essentially the study of folklore in culture, we cannot be content with merely identifying elements of the folkloric in texts, isolating the familiar and not-so-familiar motifs and themes, and inquiring into the role they play beyond enriching narrative and providing local color. We must move beyond and question; why these particular patterns, why these clinging beliefs, why this fascination, and what does it all mean?

The comic book, that uniquely twentieth century manifestation of popular literature that is swiftly becoming a legitimate and independent form of both literary and pictorial art, is an exciting and useful literary form that lends itself well to such a study. (Brief Survey of the History and Popularity" of comics) As a uniquely twentieth century manifestation, it also reveals a uniquely twentieth century version of the blending and melding of human experience and tradition in a literary form.4 The use of folklore in comic books can range from wholesale reproductions to imaginative variations and alterations of well-known folk narratives, from the subtle inclusion of motifs, references, and particularly, folk beliefs, in story-lines and characterizations, to the blatant reintroduction of stock folkloric characters.5 While comic book writers create their own histories, heroes, villains, and legends, in doing so they borrow themes and ideas current in traditional and contemporary folklore and folk religion. They depend upon folklore and folklore theory for the development of their narratives.

Previous academic works about comic books have failed to acknowledge the importance and meaning of their pervasive use of folklore. (What People Have Said About Comics) As P. G. Brewster stated in 1950, "Whether the artists who draw our comic strips have turned to folklore research or whether they are merely adopting and adapting folk materials that have long been and still are in oral circulation are questions which need not concern us."6 This is, however, exactly what does concern us. The extent to which writers and illustrators of popular comics draw upon and consciously research this material is not only paramount to our understanding of both this contemporary literary genre but, most significantly, what the popularity of certain folkloric elements in comics reveals about the readers of this genre and about our society in general.

An analysis of three series published by DC Comics in the early 1990s (Swamp Thing, Sandman and Hellblazer) reveals a heavy dependence on traditional folk beliefs in the central story-lines and characterization, as well as in illustration and incidental dialogue. The writers of these series do more than merely borrow ideas from culture or from one another, or employ stock motifs and themes in their narratives; they often incorporate themes from folklore and tradition wholesale and unaltered.7 By examining the use of traditional and contemporary folklore in these serials it is possible to see not only the extent and manner to which folklore is utilized, but also how widespread certain folk vocabulary and beliefs are in the contemporary period.

The contemporary writers of comic books are successful in their use of folklore and in the commercial sense because they are not alone as they draw upon their vast reservoir of tradition. The use of folklore in popular literature provides an arena where reader connects with the writer. Here they can experience together a sense of community through shared beliefs and history, thereby creating a community of the comic world. Familiarity with this community creates a particularly strong feeling of membership in a culturally specific reference group and feelings of shared knowledge and empowerment as participants in a moving and continuous history. The writers are themselves part of the "comic" literature community. They respond and intertwine their works with those of other writers, expecting their readers to "keep up" and follow the pattern of the larger community and narrative. This assumes, and rightly so, that their readers are fairly well informed about current events and the comic world, as well as mythical and legendary history.

The most fascinating of these traditional inclusions and incorporation is the presence and use of various folk beliefs with related themes and characterizations. The repetition and inevitability of these elements, often with heroic and supernatural resonance, adds the unusual, the magical, and a sense of the otherworldly to an existence that is often otherwise mundane. In Swamp Thing, Sandman, and Hellblazer, traditional lore and belief are critical to the development and continuation of the narrative, and are the basis of character development and presentation. All three series are considered "horror" stories and are marketed under DC's "Vertigo" line that is "Suggested for Mature Readers"; each serial has as its protagonist a character who is introspective, concerned with exploring his identity or atoning for past mistakes. In this, these less "popular" serials closely resemble the "Batman" of the 1980s, who was at the time far more concerned with putting to rest personal ghosts than were other mainstream "super heroes."8 This characterization has become common in action comic series, perhaps an indication that members of the general population are also questioning their own identities and roles.9

Comic book readers will cull what they can from what they are offered, and here there is a lot to be learned for the inquisitive reader. Just as the earlier "Loony Tune" fans had classical music on their minds as they watched, the audience reading Swamp Thing, Hellblazer, or Sandman are bombarded with archetypes, tirades of hell lords, fallen angels, and tricksters. This inclusion does not stop with the more obvious or well-known. Lesser known examples of folk religion such as the triumvirate of hell as mentioned in the Kabbalah appear in all three series; the demon Nergal, a Summarian Nether world deity, appears in Swamp Thing and Hellblazer.10 In fact, in Swamp Thing 97 two of the triumvirate of hell are named, Azazel and Beelzebub. As a common name for the devil, the use of Beelzebub is not surprising. Az azel, however, is mentioned only in the apocryphal books of the Hebrew Bible as a fallen angel and is an obscure reference indeed.11 Equally curious is the appearance of Lilith, the apocryphal first wife of Adam, in the Sandman series. Lilith is mentioned only once in the Hebrew Bible (Isaiah 34:14) and is developed as a character only in the Apocrypha of the Hebrew Bible and in the Aggadah, the Rabbinical commentary on the Hebrew Bible.12 This ongoing and interactive creative process, clearly then does not rest on the gray matter of a few writers or with the products of oral culture alone; writers include ideas and themes that have been searched out from texts through personal research and study.

While it is clear that comic book writers do make use of folkloric and religious reference tools (Neil Gaiman, the author of Sandman, indicates his use of Frazer and Lang), they are not reference tools that would necessarily be considered "acceptable" from a scholarly point of view. The sources referred to are those that are commonly termed "popular culture" or which represent older and out-dated approaches and theories of the study of religion and folklore. These texts are, however, the standard sources that an average reader wanting information about folk religion and ritual finds in general bookstores and reads with pleasure. Joseph Campbell's works are consumed by the public today as were Robert Graves's in his time, and are often credited within the text of these comics. Gaiman provides the title of Alfred Watkins's The Old Straight Track as well as naming Andrew Lang in the credits of his DC miniseries The Books of Magic. Similar sources are even given in more mainstream comic series; one Batman episode is captioned by quotations from The Dictionary of Magic and Superstition.

Constantine...con
man...joker, thief...magus?
Who the hell is he?

Unlike the Batman, the principal characters in the three series in question do possess certain traditionally acknowledged "unearthly" powers. Alec Holland, the Swamp Thing, is an incarnation of the vegetation elemental; he is a plant, and can become incarnate through any form of organic matter. Dream is the Sandman, a familiar character in folklore. In the world of comic books, he is also one of seven immortal siblings called "The Endless," and as the Lord of Dreams he can move easily through time, space, thought, and matter. John Constantine, the Hellblazer, is ostensibly "just a bloke," an ordinary mortal.13 He is also a talented magician who can move through various phases of time and space with powers enough to outwit all three lords of Hell.14 One the surface these characters appear dynamic and novel, referencing elements of folklore tradition. They also embody in their characterizations, plot development, and in story-lines a modified version of the older academic theory of archetypes, the personification of the stock elements and an understanding of the collective unconsciousness of the collective unconscious.

In the realm of past academic research in this theory of archetypes and psychic unity, nineteenth-century scholars explored and advocated polygenesis. This theory offered spontaneous creation as the explanation for the appearance of similar tales and characterizations in separate cultures, where lines of transmission could not be traced. Carl G. Jung expanded this theory, arguing that archetypes were not independent inventions, but rather operated independent of human consciousness, and were in fact an inheritance from the collective unconscious. Jung stated in 1957, "Mind is not born as a tabula rasa. Like the body, it has its pre-established individual definiteness; namely, forms of behaviour.They become manifest in the very-recurring patterns of psychic functioning . . . The psychological manifestations of the instincts I have termed archetypes. The archetypes are by no means useless archaic survivals or relics. They are living entities, which cause the preformation of numinous ideas or dormant representations."15

While cross-cultural comparisons and the study of archetypes have been argued against and discarded as unworkable in academic circles, works on these subjects, like that of J. G. Frazer, Andrew Lang, and Robert Graves, as well as the subsequent work of Jung, are still very popular with comic book writers and their audience. Neil Gaiman, the creator of Sandman, tells of rejecting a book on mythic archetypes not because of any intellectual disbelief, but because "there's a level on which you shouldn't be trying to do this stuff too consciously. There's a level on which you should know how it feels, on which you go by gut feeling, and you know that you've succeeded when the story feels inevitable."16 The idea is not to consciously follow or obey a set pattern. If it is done correctly, in Gaiman's view, it will fall into that pattern. This argues not for a conscious use of academically "identified" archetypes, but in keeping with Jung, the development of characterizations that fit our past and unconscious definition of archetypes.

Such understanding of archetypes is clearly at work in these serials, particularly in the work of Jamie Delano in Hellblazer. As the character John Constantine explains to a group of fellow magicians, "Well, the way I see it, the God that we're dealing with is an archetype of human consciousness. It's a response to an emotional stimulus-a race memory of a time when our brains worked differently-a time when gods were real because we lived more in the creative right side of our brains than in the 'rational' universe of the left."17 This is a far cry from the "POW-zap" mentality with which comic book readers and writers have usually been credited.

Whether or not the creators, their illustrators, or the readers of comic books individually and personally believe in a collective unconsciousness is moot. The point is not whether they actually subscribe to these theories in terms of their personal beliefs, but that the writers do make use of such elements in the fiction they create, developing the mystical nature and atmosphere of such an interpretation of psychic unity, and that the readers do cull these elements from the works they read. The characterization of the Swamp Thing as the Green Man of folklore, the continuous references to the "trickster" in relation to John Constantine, the hero quest of Dream, and the central role of the Hecatae in Sandman make this clear. While the readers may or may not consciously understand these as archetypal representations, they certainly understand their use in these series on an unconscious level, expecting certain events, actions, and responses from their archetypal heroes as is evidenced by letters from readers printed at the end of each issue. In the same way abstract expressionist, Aldolph Gottlieb (1903-1974) sought to appeal to his viewer's collective unconscious by conveying images of universal meaning through his work with pictographs,18 it appears that the comic books of the late twentieth century present characters that appeal to their readers' collective unconscious by conveying narratives laced with references of universal meaning.

The pseudo-history of the Swamp Thing is a classic example of the way in which archetypes are used in comic books. William Anderson in The Green Man: The Archetype of our Oneness with the Earth, discusses the wide-spread traditions of "the green man"- walking, sentient greenery, the vegetation god.19 The Swamp Thing was once a man, Alec Holland, whose consciousness was infused with the organic matter of a Louisiana swamp when Holland's human body perished in a fiery chemical explosion.20 Initially, in the first Swamp Thing series, that is all there was to it. But over the course of twenty years a number of different writers and illustrators have refined the meaning and identity of this character, bringing to it their own knowledge folklore, their personal creativity, and their own understandings of this motif until they have quite clearly, whether consciously or not, created an "elemental." The Swamp Thing is lately perceived by his writers (though not originally by his creator, Len Wein) to be in fact THE elemental, the world's god. The very characterization of Swamp Thing is an argument for polygenesis, for he is one of a long line of diversely shaped and located earth elementals spanning from ancient China to Mexico, from Liverpool to the bayous of Louisiana.

Jung in "The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales" writes, "The hallmarks of spirit are, firstly, the principle of spontaneous movement and activity; secondly, the spontaneous capacity to produce images independently of sense perception; and thirdly, the autonomous and sovereign manipulation of these images."21 As a combination of the human body with vegetation, the Green Man is a composite figure and symbolizes the union of humanity and the natural world. As such he knows and utters the laws of nature. He is also attached in his consciousness to the spirit of the earth, the very nature of the world. As an archetype of the vegetation god, the Swamp Thing is also the personification of this archetype of spirit. As the earth's god he feels changes and alterations in the spirit and condition of the "Green," the organic world, and through the "Green" he can send himself, or rather, generate himself, anywhere and through anything that was ever organic matter. In Hellblazer 10 he even materializes out of a box of cigarettes.

This personification of the Swamp Thing as the green man of all the world, the ultimate archetype, is clearly indicated in the narrative cycle where the lives of earlier versions of others like himself are revealed to the Swamp Thing. In Swamp Thing 47 an older incarnation says, "I am drowning in their ancient intelligence . . . their bottomless . . . memories." These earlier representations of the green man in Swamp Thing bear a considerable similarity to the recorded folklore traditions of the green man as well. In fact, in Swamp Thing 47, one of these manifestations is called "Jack-in-the-Green," a traditional character from English May Day celebrations usually represented as a figure decorated with holly and ivy leaves. J. G. Frazer regarded " . . . Jack in the Green as a relic of European tree worship,"22 and it is fairly clear that the writer of this episode, Alan Moore, made this same connection. Similarly, the character "Lady Jane" of Swamp Thing 120 and forward is related to "Jenny Greenteeth," a green hag who traditionally haunts Yorkshire bogs. The clearest conscious connection, however, between Swamp Thing and the folkloric "green man" is his appearance in Swamp Thing 124 both visually and in text as the incarnation of the Aztec corn god, Xipe Totec.

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2. M. H. Abrams, A Glossary of Literary Terms, 4th ed. (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1981), 63.

3. Alan Dundes, "The Study of Folklore in Literature and Culture: Identification and Interpretation," The Journal of American Folklore 78(307): 136-142, 1965, 136.

4. The art work in these "mature suspense" comics is worthy of study alone. The illustrations frequently convey meaning and narrative independent of the text or in unspoken conjunction with it.

5. The appearance of Thomas the Rhymer and Baba Yaga (Books of Magic 3), Loki (Sandman 28), the legend of the parliament of rooks (Sandman 40) or Solomon Grundy and the creation of a Golem (The Swamp Thing 11 and 12, first series) are examples. For a brief discussion of motifs in comic books see R. L. Baker, "Folklore Motifs in Comic Books of Superheroes," Bulletin of the Tennessee Folklore Society 41(1975): 170-174.

6. P. G. Brewster, "Folklore Invades the Comic Strips," Southern Folklore Quarterly 14 (1950): 97-102, 102. In contrast see, W. Leipziger, "Die Comics und die Marchen," Freundliches Begegnen 6 (1956): 7-10.

7. For example, see Sandman Special 1 and the "retelling" of the Orpheus narrative; in Camelot 3000 the Arthurian court moves to the year 3,000 C. E.; the market scene in The Books of Magic 2 features cameo appearances of famous folkloric, literary, and historical figures. See also Sally K. Slocum and H. Alan Stewart, "Heroes in Four Colors: The Arthurian Legend in Comic Strips and Books," in King Arthur Through the Ages II, edited by Valerie M. Lagorio and Mildred Leake Day (New York: Garland Publications, 1990).

8. See Frank Miller's work in the DC series, The Dark Knight Returns.

9. See Pamela Robin Brandt, "Infiltrating the Comics," Ms. (July/August 1991): 90-92; see also Peter Prescott with Ray Sawmill, "The Comic Book (Gulp!) Grows Up," Newsweek (18 January 1988): 70-71.

10. The Penguin Dictionary of Devils and Demons (New York: Penguin Books, 1978), 198, describes Nergal as "Demon of the second class. First honorary spy of Beelzebub. His wife is called Allaton . . . His duty was to carry out menial tasks in the infernal court." Fred Getting's Dictionary of Demons: A Guide to Demons and Demonologists in Occult Lore (North Pomfret: David & Charles, 1988), 174, describes him as the "Lord of the Babylonian equivalent of Hades, husband of Ekeshhkigel."

11. Azazel is named in the Books of Enoch and Jubilees as one of the host of heavens that came down to earth and " . . . went into the daughters of men" thereby populating the earth with giants. These apocryphal narratives are regarded as later attempts to clarify and elucidate the vague reference to the "nephalim" or "sons of God" as mentioned in Genesis 6:1-4. Azazel is also mentioned in Lev. 16:8, 10, and 26 as the "Azazel goat" upon which Aaron places the sins of the population, then sends out into the desert. Greek and Latin versions of the Bible translated Az'azel as "goat that departs," hence the term "scapegoat." Rabbinical commentary understood Azazel as the place to which the goat was driven, while modern biblical commentary understands Azazel as the personal name of a demon who resides in the wilderness. See The Apocryphal Old Testament, ed. by H. F. D. Sparks. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984).

12. See Raphael Patai, "Lilith," Journal of American Folklore 77:306 (1964): 295-314.

13. Neil Gaiman, The Books of Magic 3. (New York: DC Comics, 1991), 2.

14. Jamie Delano, Hellblazer 45. New York: DC Comics, 1991).

15. C. G. Jung, Psyche and Symbol: A Selection from the Writings of C. G. Jung, edited by Violet S. de Laszio. (Garden City: Doubleday, 1958), ii.

16. Steven Miller and Peter Sanderson, "Interview with the Sandmen," Amazing Stories 185 (November 1990): 29-36, 33; also Neil Gaiman, personal communication, 12 July 1995.

17. Jamie Delano, Hellblazer 22. (New York: DC Comics, 1989), 6.

18. William Anderson, Green Man: The Archetype of Our Oneness with the Earth. (London: Harper Collins, 1990), 25.

19. Lawrence Alloway. The Pictographs of Adolph Gottlieb. New York: Hudson Hills Press, 1994. 20. A popular motif in the comics of the 1960s and 1970s was the creation of a super hero as the result of a freak scientific accident, i.e. Spiderman, the Hulk, Aquaman, etc.

21. Carl Jung, Four Archetypes, Mother, Rebirth, Spirit, Trickster, trans. R. F. C. Hull. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970), 90.

22. Funk and Wagnalls Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology, and Legend, edited by Maria Leach. (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), 534. SeeSwamp Thing 68.

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