Dunno if this has been asked before but what was your first impression of Damian? How did your feelings for the character evolve?
I donāt usually get asked for my opinions on things so this was a joy to find in my inbox! You asked for an explanation on my feelings evolving, so prepare for one of the lengthiest responses you will ever get to anything:Ā
Honestly, my first impression of Damian was that he was kind of a jerk, before I even knew just how much of a jerk he truly used to be (spoiler alert: as we all know, a lot). But this is before I ventured from comics that werenāt Nightwing, back when I was mini and flying by the seat of my pants when it came to DC (AKA picking up random books I saw on the shelves in the library and conveniently finding Jeph Loeb instead of the mess of current continuity that may have turned me off comic books forever). I saw him first at a convention when I found the Batman and Robin series and thought it was Dick. I turned to the back and saw something about some assassin kid and stared for a bit, put it down, and went,Ā āOookay, new Robin doesnāt know if he wants to be a murderer or not, thatāsā¦ fun.ā
Then I read the New 52 Nightwing run, before I realized that I donāt really like the New 52 and donāt want to do that again (Nightwing was one of the few runs that didnāt suck, at least, but I wasnāt a fan of how dumb he was written). Damian appeared in there a few times, and it was honestly the sweetest thing. I remember falling in love with their relationship at that moment, right then and there, no going back. The videogame scene did it for me, when Dick talked about getting a videogame that Damian really wants to play and playing it with him, and then next thing you know the game is abandoned in his living room and heās standing next to Damianās grave giving a frankly amazing inner monologue about what itās like to constantly move forward. Considering I wasnātĀ āinā with DC yet, I was heartbroken ā I had no idea Damian had died, and wouldnāt find out why for at least another year (and it broke my heart even more).
There was an offhand comment from my cosplayer friend some time later about how I should cosplay Damian. I was short, I was ābrownā, I would make an accurate cosplay. I was a little iffy about being told to cosplay a character just because I was I appeared brown, but I was desperately trying to find a cosplay where I wouldnāt have to hide my eyebrows. I have yet to cosplay him, but it did make me look into him a bit more. I fell in love with his costume design, which is the first thing I look for in my cosplays ā recognizable as Robin, distinguishable by fans as which Robin. And then time went on and I became more and more conscious of the fact that no other character I like resembles anything near my ethnic identity. Except, of course, one.
This all conveniently falls into the period of my life when I struggled with being stuck expressing a conglomeration of three different cultural identities. I needed something in media, some character to project myself onto to remind me that the way I do things isnāt crazy or imaginary. That my identity is real and it doesnāt have to conform to anyone elseās, because my situation is weird but itās still mine.
I latched onto Damian. Reading the Son of Batman books cemented it for me, too. Iāve given a lengthy response as to why the Al Ghulās arenāt stellar representation and I donāt believe Damian is either. He isnāt a representation of a Middle Eastern or Asian person. Iāve thought for hours and hours about what his cultural identity might be. I wonāt get into it here, but it was fascinating, and while I couldnāt relate in every way, the fact that it was up in the air, the fact that heās been raised so uniquely and it makes you wonder what he really identifies with, if he identifies with anything at all and doesnāt just think āThis is the way I do things, fuck youā, was so familiar.Ā
I read fanfiction with him and became disgusted about how there seems to be only be two ways to write him: Donāt acknowledge the Middle Eastern part of his ethnicity or fetishize it. I was pissed. Still am. Iāve experienced Middle Eastern fetishization in literature, but not with something I had made so personal to me. So I resolved to write him more, in the way I wish he was written. Most of what Iāve written about him is tucked away into my files. In fact, what I have on my AO3 profile really doesnāt do justice to the variety of things that I write just for myself.
(Iām going to divide the post right here because the rest can probably be considered more of a tangent. It does, however, go more in depth as to the personal reasons why I love Damian).
This may seem unrelated, but if you want an analysis of how much I love Damian, this is some background you need to know: Roughly three to four years ago now, I met my little cousin for the first time in Armenia. Well, maybe I should say second time, but the first time was when he was just a little baby, ten years ago at that point. Let me tell you, my little cousin was the most interesting little shit. He pissed me off most of the time, yes. The sexism of Iran and Armenia was punched into him hard. He had a hard time comprehending why I, as a woman, would dare carry my own suitcase up the stairs.Ā But the more time I spent with him, the more I started to analyze.Ā
He and his older brother lost their mother to cancer two years before and it created an interesting dynamic. In our culture there are very clear gender divides, roles for the woman and the man, and now there was no woman in their house. Their father succumbed to drowning his grief in alcohol and my older cousin was the one helping the women now set the table, helping make coffee and tea, all things that women do. But my little cousin, Vedi, refused to. He insisted he was the man. He was a grown up (he was almost 11) and we should treat him as such. He spoke with a very mature voice, held himself up straight and proper, and got angry when I spoke in English with his brother because he wanted to participate in our grown up discussions too. But he was still a child. One of the things I remember very clearly is when I found a way to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender while visiting him. Turns out, he loves that show. But I couldnāt find subtitles. He didnāt care. He loved the show even if he couldnāt understand it, and found it funny when I tried to explain things. He made me promise not to watch it without him.
We would take naps in the middle of the day, right before tea, and one of these times I couldnāt sleep so I watched some more episodes. When Vedi woke up he looked absolutely heartbroken. And I realized that he wanted to watch the show because he wanted to spend time with me, but he just couldnātā¦ say it. Didnāt know how to say it. He acted so grown up but he wasnāt. And thatās when things clicked into place a little more.
Ervin, his brother, became the āwomanā of the house, as much as he would kill me if he heard me say that, and Vedi became the āmanā. He was constantly trying to man up, getting offended when someone thought he was cute because men arenāt cute. He did everything his dad told him to do, like a little toy soldier, but his dad didnāt tell him to do much. He wasnāt much of a father. And Vediās forced maturity only became more apparent as time went on. By the time he was 12 (he had come to America for some time, and this is when all his rapid development happened) he was speaking English fluently and his overt sexism was gone. He smiled more. He respected me more. And I realized after a whileā¦ Christ. He reminds me of Damian.
Not only that, Iāve been substituting Damian with him, every time I read or write him. Iāve been thinking about Vedi. And I suppose Iāve been substituting Dick with myself, and I know myself enough to know that this must be one of the reasons why I love Dick and Damianās relationship so much.
I love Damian to the bottom of my heart and soul. I love Vedi to the bottom of my heart and soul. Theyāre two separate people, and yet somehow along the way they melded with each other. No, my little cousin was never an assassin. But he did move to US before he was a teen and he did experience tremendous growth as a person because of it. He did have a childhood with a stark lack of parental figures that he wonāt come to realize the repercussions of until heās older. He has a father who canāt be relied on, stuck in a haze of his own emotional grief, not seeing what itās done to his kids. He tries to win said fatherās approval, but itās never going to happen. He pressures himself constantly to be grown up, but heās not, and his mannerisms are so conveniently aligned with that of the character we all know (and hopefully love). I still write Damian as his own character, separate from my baby cousin. But sometimes, when I need to capture a look, or the way he might say something, I think of Vedi.
I havenāt seen Vedi in a while now, since he moved back to Iran (because of his father ā he doesnāt make good decisions, and Vedi is nothing but the obedient toy soldier). I miss him like another limb, and I worry constantly for him. I canāt talk to him often if at all, what with an almost 12 hour time difference. So I project those feelings of worry, concern, resentment towards his father, everything, into Dick, and how I perceive his relationship with Damian.
So, in length, thatās how and why my feelings evolved fromĀ āThis kid is kind of a jerkā toĀ āI would probably die for him.ā
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I have this thing where if I see one singular pretty picture of anything DC related I follow the artist. The problem is that I now have a ton of Voltron/Overwatch/Stranger Things/stuff-I-can't-identify all over my dash, and I've never watched any of them. However, they're still pretty, which means I may accidentally reblog them, but don't be fooled. I still don't know who Shiro is.
One Step Closer needs some serious editing done. The mistakes are ridiculous and the dialogue is totally off. Itās going to take a while, but lets hope I finally have a good break (for the first time since August) this spring to crank it out. So, expect that to happen, and donāt be surprised if any of you reread it and find that things donāt look 100% familiar.
TV is honestly the most annoying thing. People have it on all the time as background noise, and when someone is watching it in the house then everyone in the immediate vicinity has to listen to it too, and thereās so much talking and noise and itās so loud and it bothers me so much. Not to mention it's frustrating to talk over it, and no one wants to talk while it's on anyway. Iām not sure why itās become a pet peeve now of all times, but Iām never going to own a TV when I live on my own and anyone who stays over will just have to suffer quiet boredom while I bathe in the glory of my vindictive victory. That is my revenge.
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āUhh, analyze racist and economically detrimental political trends such as the effects of mass incarceration and the criminalization of the poor through DC comics... You know. Normal stuff.ā
