And The Answer Is A!

One would be hard-pressed to find a more obnoxious hero than Steve Ditko's Mr. A. Created at just about the same time as Charlton's The Question, most folks see Mr. A as Ditko's Comics Code-approved Question unleashed into the wild of Indy publishing where he can really cut loose and express his opinions about justice and merit and who should live and who should die. Let me just say, that if you're a criminal and you're hanging by your fingertips over a deadly precipice don't think the "heroic" Mr. A is going to give you a hand. That's not his style. If your misdeeds brought you to this dangerous point, then you will just have to solve it on your own...or die. 

How do I know this? Well that's exactly the dilemma Mr. A was confronted with in his debut adventure in the pages of Wally Wood's Witzend first issue. A juvenile delinquent named "Angel" is tearing it up with all sorts of ill-mannered and criminal behavior resulting ultimately in kidnapping and attempted murder. Mr. A stops that but when Angel needs a hand to save his life after their fight, Mr. A specifically says he would not be doing that. Through his inaction he allows the criminal to fall to his death. Is that justice? Is that heroism? It's sure cold blooded, that's for certain and sounds more like warfare. 

You see the thing is that in Mr. A's universe that is no gray...literally and figuratively. In these stark black and white comic book yarns we are presented with crimes and actions which some, in a charitable nature, might deem mistakes rather than crimes. They might consider the perpetrators to be confused by upbringing or environment which send mixed messages about what is right and what is wrong and the limits of civilized behavior in regard to these concepts. Mr. A is not having any of that. There is "Good" represented by the white half of his business card and there is "Evil" represented by the black portion. There's gray, no blending or smudging, there are only absolutes determined by rigorous adherence to reason. Emotions and the charity they elicit are for weaklings and milksops. 

At first glance this hard-edged support of the good and condemnation of the evil seems worthy and even heroic. But for all the conversation, the question never even much asked in Mr. A's adventures is what is "Good" and what is "Evil". It's sort of assumed we all know that. A lot of it has to do with property rights as far as I can tell, with the stuff owned by those who produce being held sacrosanct and protected from the evil moochers and  takers. Little suggestion of a deeper understanding of why those have what they have and those who haven't don't. Like the mythological "American Dream" it's suggested that work will inevitably lead to good outcomes and doing otherwise is just inviting disaster. Suggestion that society might stack the deck is not really confronted or is just dismissed. Like the amateur social engineers who have taken a tiny bit if Any Rand's philosophy to justify unlimited avarice, in Mr. A the distinctions are just assumed to be obvious, detectible with only a little bit of "common sense" as is all too often evoked. 

Mr. A lives in an Old Testament universe in which an eye for an eye is the bedrock premise of justice. I suspect that Mr. A would find Jesus Christ's attitudes about poverty and charity and mercy just mewling nonsense having little to do with the rockem' sockem' real world we all live in. Mr. A never smiles, in fact he's incapable of smiling as his face is literally a solid mask evoking classical caucasian handsomeness. He looks through the eyeholes of his perfect mug onto a landscape less perfected and in sore need of transformation. He's all too ready to pitch in. 

Mr. A is actually hard-hitting investigative reporter Rex Graine, but unlike his Charlton counterpart Vic Sage, there's no suggestive of fancy gimmicks to change identities. Graine goes to his closet and puts on the stark white gear that announces Mr. A is back in town. His face actually a helmet of sorts to hide his human identity during these times when mere humanity will not do the job. He doesn't have superpowers, merely a dominating will and a creator who sees to it that his unblinking philosophy will win the day each and every time. There's no gray in Mr. A's universe and there's no doubt nor growth. He is not a human, he is a concept given human form. Reading Mr. A's adventures becomes increasingly difficult over the years as the prose dominates the story, slowing any hint of suspense or narrative momentum. It's rather like forcing everyone t read all the plaques as they journey through the museum. It's enlightening perhaps, but it takes a long time and can wear you out. 

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