Perry Knows, Dammit!

I love Superman.

I mean, I looooove Superman. I love what he stands for (as a concept), I love how he (archetypally) sees the world, I love the idea of a world with Superman flying around - sometimes upside down because you know what? He can fly, and flying upside down is occasionally more fun than flying right-side up.

I've thought about Superman a lot, and obviously, have some opinions on what's been going on with him recently...well, for the past five or so years. While I can't say that I've got a Superman story yet - I mean, I've got tons of ideas, just nothing that screams at me...I've got more ideas for the universe around him. Including this cranky guy at the left - Perry White.

Part of this blog is just a place that will allow me and Troy to vent a bit, so this is turning things waaay back - twelve, fourteen years or so.

So…. I think it was probably that I was influenced by the Dan Jurgens era of Superman, but for the longest time, I never saw Perry White as the hardass of Byrne’s reboot or the blowhard he was previously. To me, Perry was human, a father, an old-school newspaperman, and most importantly, a guy who cared about his staff and saw them as family. And also, it was early in my days of reporting/writing – I saw editors, especially the editors at the top of the pile as being smart. Why wouldn’t he be? After all, he taught Lois Lane everything she knew.

So, as my logic went, Perry had noticed that Clark…disappeared from time to time, and more often than not, Superman showed up on the monitors in the newsroom. There was never any “aha!” moment, just Perry doing what he must have done for years as a reporter – putting the pieces together and figuring things out.

Somehow, sometime, an inescapable situation comes up – I don’t know, the entire staff is on lockdown, or are all on deadline, and no one can leave the room. Then, on one of the monitors, a horrific accident. Not a cheesy villain or anything like that, but something that can be fixed or at least reduced by a certain guy who wears a cape. Close up on Clark, looking around nervously…he can’t just dash out. The accident is getting worse (no, there wouldn’t be any of that “Clark moves faster than people can see” bullshit because that is, well, bullshit). Perry, noticing a clearly agitated Clark walks over to his desk and quietly says, “Clark, go.”

Clark looks up at Perry shocked…how does he? How can he?

“Kent…go. Now. We can talk later.”

No words from Clark, just a grateful look, and he’s gone. Heck, throw in the iconic tugging his shirt open as he rounds the corner, out of sight of the offices. Pull back from the newsroom to the announcer on television saying, “Wait – yes, Superman is on the scene now…”

Later, Superman is flying back to the roof of the Daily Planet, and Perry – iconic Perry (vest, shirtsleeves rolled up) is there.Clark lands softly beside him.

“How long have you known?”

“I don’t know, months? A year or two?”

“But how did…” Superman’s question is answered by a look from Perry. “Oh, right. Reporter first, editor second.

“But why didn’t you ever say anything?”

”I figured if you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. You didn’t, so I figured you had your reasons, and I moved on. And honestly, it’s kind of nice knowing that Superman is on your payroll.”

This would go on for a little while longer, and probably end up with Perry asking Clark if Lois knows, and Clark telling him that she does. Basically, the dialogue would allow for a bit of father-son relationship to build up between Superman and Perry, and both enrich the dynamics of those two characters as well as deepening Perry, and turning him from a cardboard cutout into a…oh, what’s that word….character. Also, it would be just something that Perry knew, not a springboard into a “Perry is kidnapped and tortured into revealing Superman’s secret identity storyline,” because that would suck.

Or at least that was my thought when I pitched it as a ten-pager to a then-Superman editor. This was back at a time when DC was publishing specials left and right, and ten page stories were fairly common.I had bounced it around to some writer friends (including a couple of Superman writers), and it had gotten a very good response. I think I got to the part about Perry and Clark meeting on the rooftop when the editor interrupted me, “But Perry doesn’t know.”

“But I just explained how Perry had figured it out, because he’s smart.”

“Perry doesn’t know.”

“But he taught Lois all she knows, and Lois figured it out.”

“Perry doesn’t know.”

“But if he doesn’t he’s a fool. Just a dottering old guy.”

“That may be, but Perry doesn’t know.”

It may have gone on longer, but the thrust never changed. Perry. Doesn’t. Know. Why? Not because my story idea didn’t make sense (it did – admit it – and besides, one of my favorite writers and pals said at the time that the idea had great internal logic… I thought that was the coolest compliment ever) but Perry doesn’t know because DC says Perry doesn’t know. The end.

One of my best friends in comics loves to quote Kirby who said, “Comics will break your heart.” I think that was the first time it really hit me. Here was a smart story (yeah, I’m biased, you think your kids are smart and pretty, too) that enriched a character and added richness to Superman’s world, but nope – can’t happen, because the rules say that Perry doesn’t know.

That was an eye-opener (and yeah, it happened a looong time ago), but since then, it’s always been amazingly easy to see the “rules” that keep things from actually, you know, being good in 90% of the books and with 90% of the corporate characters out there.