DC comics faces boycott over Superman writer who linked gay men and paedophilia

Adventures of Superman writer Orson Scott Card's history of homophobia sparks protest.

DC Comics has hired Orson Scott Card, author of Ender's Game, to write the first two issues of its new digital-first comic Adventures of Superman, prompting a boycott of the company.

Card, a devout Mormon, is strongly homophobic. In the early 1990s, he called for laws banning gay sex to stay in place, and in 2004, in an essay titled "Homosexual 'Marriage' and Civilization", wrote:

The dark secret of homosexual society—the one that dares not speak its name—is how many homosexuals first entered into that world through a disturbing seduction or rape or molestation or abuse, and how many of them yearn to get out of the homosexual community and live normally.

Card put those beliefs into practice in his 2008 novella Hamlet's Father, which features the eponymous King Hamlet as a paedophile and in which Publisher's Weekly claims:

The focus is primarily on linking homosexuality with the life-destroying horrors of pedophilia, a focus most fans of possibly bisexual Shakespeare are unlikely to appreciate.

(Card denies that Hamlet's Father contains any gay characters)

All of which might render Card unsuitable to write a character who is normally portrayed as the paragon of good in his world. As a result, some are calling for a boycott of Card's book, and others for a boycott of all DC's output. All Out, a transnational campaign for sexual equality, is organising a petition against DC comics, writing that:

We need to let DC Comics know they can't support Orson Scott Card or his work to keep LGBT people as second-class citizens.

For a company which is happy to court LGBT audiences when it can, trumpeting its introduction of Batwoman as the first lesbian superhero to have her own solo title and reintroducing Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern, as a gay man just last year, DC's choice to hire Card is rather hypocritical. The company is attempting to have its cake and eat it too, and fans are right to take issue with that.

Superman actor Christopher Reeve's costume from Superman III. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood