Comic Review: Robin: Son of Batman Vol. 1: Year of Blood

I’ve been a Damian fan for a while now, I’ll admit that right up front. So it didn’t take much convincing for me to go out and buy the newest volume of the youngest Robin’s solo adventures after his disappearance from Gotham City.

Get-up's fresh, Damian.

Now for those who don’t know, Damian Wayne was a creation of Grant Morrison during his epic Batman run that started in the 2000s and ended with the 2^nd volume of Batman Incorporated in the early 2010s. Morrison wrote Damian as the spoilt, athletic, prodigious son of Talia Al Ghul and Batman during a sordid affair the two had previously. In a way, he was a sort of second try at a character like Jason Todd; a troubled youth who would pose a challenge to Batman as a sidekick.

Well over the course of the next ten years, Damian proved to be just that. A well-spoken but arrogant and entitled brat with admittedly unparalleled fighting skills and a highly advanced intellect. On top of all of this, he was a killer. Over the course of Morrison’s early run, Bruce had to deal with all of these traits in his long lost son, helping turn him from a killer for the enemy, to a killer for the righteous – not a huge improvement. It wasn’t until Dick temporarily inherited the Bat-Mantle that Damian really started to show holes in his borderline sociopathic persona. Dick-Bats ended up being one of the greatest role-models for the young assassin, showing him how to tap into his empathy in the way only the optimistic Richard Grayson could.

The following Tomasi run during the New 52 went even further, showing Batman (now Bruce Wayne again, back from the dead because, you know, comics) work with the young Damian to almost completely change him from an unrepentant killer, to a much more subdued and at times sympathetic fighter for justice.

In Gleason’s Robin: Son of Batman, we find the young Robin on a redemption quest to make up for the violent and wrongful acts committed during a trial year staged by Talia during his early childhood known as the “Year of Blood”. During this test, Damian had committed numerous acts of theft on ancient peoples and guardians from an exotic island. Each of the initial 6 issues takes us back and forth between the Year of Blood and Damian’s current redemption quest showing us the parallels as well as highlighting the difference between the unrepentant asshole Damian began as (and who I initially despised) to the rough-around-the-edges, still-spoilt, but empathetic and highly complex character he has become. So does the privileged spoilt son of the Dark Knight stand on his own two feet without the Caped Crusader in this series?

Oh, he fuckin’ does.

Damian... bruh... :'(

Along with the daughter of one of Damian’s previous victims, a giant flying Bat-Monster named Goliath, and an uneasy temporary alliance with Talia, Damian kicks absolute ass as he goes from location to location on the exotic island returning stolen treasures and atoning for his past sins to the locals. Throughout the process, we watch Damian redeem himself not only in his actions and to himself, but in the eyes of those around him – an acknowledgment that is important as it acts as a sort of final nail in the coffin of his past life as a ruthless assassin. Damian may have proved himself changed in Gotham, but it took a homecoming to face his past ghosts and atone for them to those whom he really hurt.

One of the interesting aspects of the book is how it addresses Damian’s nature. How does a sociopathic child even manage to make a real change for the better? Not just start killing for the “right” team, but actually feeling empathy and realizing an actual difference between right and wrong? Gleason answers these questions by using the flashbacks to the Year of Blood to show us that perhaps Damian had the seeds of empathy in him after all, in which case, Talia's upbringing clearly played a larger role in fostering Damian's garbage demeanor.

I'd be doing a huge injustice to artist Mick Gray if I didn't mention his work, alongside writer Gleason's contributions, to create an incredibly vibrant world for Damian and Co. to inhabit. The bright colors and expressive faces as well as fluid line-work make every scene look like a living, breathing cartoon. Damian has never looked more adorable/dangerous. When he scowls, you feel the shade he's throwing. When he cries, your own eyes well up too, its simply some of my all time favorite comic art and I will be searching for more of their contributions to the comic world in the future!

When you boil it down, the entire book is a tight, self-contained work of pure art. Damian lovers rejoice, the best Robin is getting his due.

4/5 returned artifacts

Now leave a pissed off comment about how Dick/Tim is the best Robin and why I'm completely wrong.

Edit: So I've just found out that Gleason is doing the art for the Superman Rebirth ongoing... pretty pumped!

How My Pre-Workout Became a Crutch

This morning, for probably the 4^th time this month, I woke up at 6:30, had a slice of toast with peanut butter, chugged back some pre-workout, and then sat down on the couch and started reading the first volume of Robin: Son of Batman (fantastic read by the way, will post a review when I finish). 30 minutes later, I’m halfway through the book when I realize that my window for heading to the gym before work is closing, and fast.

My face is sufficiently tingly, my left heel is tapping on the hardwood, and I feel great; ecstatic, actually. After 10 more minutes of feeling good and not doing anything, I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes, grabbed my bag, and headed for the metro to work.

When I first started lifting seriously back in my freshman year of college, (like most American guys tend to do), I couldn’t wait to head to the gym to get that rush that made me feel alive – that alleviated any anxiety I had and made up for the crippling Seasonal Affective Disorder caused by ridiculously long and dark North-Eastern winters. Once I had reached a sufficient level, I incorporated pre-workout into my routine. I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker so, in my mind, that Kool-Aid-concentrate-flavored combination of barely legal chemicals (the ingredients list looks like a cheat sheet for an AP chemistry class) was a perfectly acceptable substitute.

Soon I was using it as a way to get my ass to the gym even when I didn’t feel like lifting. I never understood how my friends never seemed to get the motivation to go to the gym; ten minutes after throwing down a scoop of powder amphetamine-substitute I was barely able to sit still without sweating and my face going slightly numb. I was chomping at the bit to get to the Iron Throne and start making gains.

In the past year I’ve left college, got a new job, and moved to a new city. Working 9-5 (realistically longer) now dominates my life and as much as I love the gym and even prioritize it, it’s not always easy to find the time to go. Worse, having left most of my best friends who are now all over the country, and having to make new friends in a non-collegiate environment, I’m finding it more difficult to find gym-minded friends who can workout with me around my schedule.

This lack of competition and mutual gains-making has taken a toll on me that I’ve only recently come to realize: I simply don’t have as much drive or energy to go to the gym.

This morning when I sat on my couch with that fantastic feeling washing over me, I wasn’t getting ready to go to the gym. I had already, however unconsciously, made the decision not to go. The artificial feeling of the pre-workout had completely changed its job. It no longer acted as the extra boost I needed to get my tired ass to the gym and earn the release of cortisol and endorphins in my body; instead, it replaced it.

Pre-workout and the artificial positive feeling and energy it provides, became the end rather than a means. I used it to replace my workout; so I could go to work and feel good without having really earned it.

Luckily, admitting this flaw in a public forum is gonna be my first step in forcing myself to go to the gym in the morning – that and the ridiculous price of Mr. Hyde and even that shitty new formula for C4.

…Do they call it Mr. Hyde because it turns you into the energetic, ecstatic, crazy foil to Dr. Jekyll?

Anyway, leave a comment in the comments section if you have something you wanna say!