Re-Reading Paper Girls Is Bittersweet
Where’s #JusticeforHeck?
Paper Girls was one of my favorite monthly comics of the last five years. It’s Brian K. Vaughan’s best writing, and definitely the best use of his puzzle box style. The dream sequences turn out to be integral to the plot! Cliff Chiang’s artwork is excellent; his facial expressions and body language are amazing, and the fantastic elements are just as fully realized. Airships and dinosaurs are super cool, and the awkward glances and friendly hugs carry weight. Matt Wilson’s colors reflect various moods, tones, and times (both periods and times of day) perfectly. And Jared K. Fletcher doesn’t get enough credit for developing a brand-new font and basically three different languages.
Warning: Spoilers and hate speech
I read it over the course of several years, and was deeply moved by the ending. KJ and Mac share a lovely kiss, and after their memories are wiped all four girls remember enough to possibly stay friends. Those final panels of them riding off into the dawn together to an uncertain future was enough to get me choked up. By the time I’d gotten to it, I’d forgotten the strongly negative reaction I’d initially had to the beginning. All that anger came flooding back when I re-read the series.
The use of the word faggot in the first issue has been covered by better critics than me. I know that it’s supposed to be jarring. But Mac continues, with AIDS jokes and other slurs, until the writing blurs the line between “period authenticity” and “needless hate speech.” When Mac develops feelings for KJ, this almost plays into the dangerous and trite lie that all homophobes are secretly closeted. But that’s not my main problem with the first arc.
What bothered me most was Heck’s death.
Not only is this another example of the tired “bury your gays” trope, but his death was a plot device to help Mac learn to be less homophobic. Her language goes from “perverts” and “fruitcakes” to “the guys who saved your life.” Did they have to die to earn this respect? Heck is reduced to a sacrificial lamb, the noble gay who dies so that straight people can live. As if the only way we can get our rights and recognition as people is if we kill ourselves to save others. But, hey, as long as they have a change of heart afterwards!
I understand the convenience of killing Heck (and poor, fridged Jude) but I’m unconvinced of its necessity, and angered by what it implies about marginalized people. Heck is of the generation that wants to use time travel to create the best possible timeline for everyone, indicative of the idealism of youth. Are oppressed people to be expected to be relentlessly altruistic and kind? Are minorities meant to effect change by being examples of best behavior unto death?
Heck’s death wasn’t just for Erin or Mac, but a source of inspiration for KJ. “Kaje” experiences her sexual awakening over the course of thirty issues, and has a sweet conversation with Jude before his death. Unfortunately, all of her queer role models are killed, and she is the only one of the four main characters whose future is uncertain. We see a clone of her at the age of 42 and a dream sequence of her bat mitzvah, but nothing else.
I had hoped to see more of Heck, or that he would catch on as a hero. As months passed between volumes, I was dismayed that he briefly appeared to pilot a giant robot (as cool as that was) and little else. He deserved the chance to be a real role model, not a posthumous one. Heck’s death hung over the rest of the story, but time allowed me to focus on the positives. Now, I can’t shake the bitter feeling at the back of my mind even as I let the pathos of the ending affect me.
Paper Girls has plenty to recommend it, and lots of good applications to queer readers. Because of the time travel narrative, Heck is both older and younger than the main characters, having been born centuries after them but still being several years older than they are. It reminds me of queer people who come out later in life, inspired by younger people who nevertheless came out before them. Also, part of the point of the It Gets Better Project is being able to say what we wish we could tell our younger selves. This scenario becomes a plot point in Paper Girls more than once.
Heck is only present for a few issues, and he made an impression before dying unjustly. I’ll add him to my list of underserved gay comic book heroes, and hope to see better in the future.
