So I've decide to reread my Legion of Superheroes comics. For me, the Legion of Superheroes begins with the appearances as backup stories in various Superman-related comics (Superboy, Action, Adventure), continuing through Superboy and the Legion of Superheroes, which morphed into just Legion of Superheroes. This version is technically volume 2, with volume 1 being a six issue series that reprinted some of the early appearances in other books.
Volume 3 was a direct continuation of the same characters and storylines, and started anew primarily because DC was trying an experiment in which certain books (Legion, Teen Titans) would be printed on high-quality paper at a premium price. Otherwise, it's basically the same Legion with new numbering and better paper.
Volume 4 saw a departure in both tone and format. Volume 3 ends with galactic bad guys taking over the civilized portions of the galaxy and the Legion suffering a disastrous defeat, with survivors scattered across the galaxy. Volume 4 picks up 5 years later (literally, the first words of Vol. 4, issue 1 are "five years later . . ." with the idealistic teens of the classic era now disillusioned adults. It was a typical grim and gritty 90's reboot. There are good things and bad things about it. The darker tone works well for the universe they created, and it was one of the first mainstream comics (though not the first) to deal with gay themes, though as with other things, it was hit or miss how well this worked. You also have more positive portrayals of strong female characters - the most powerful Legionaire of this era is Andromeda, who basically has Superman's powers without the kryptonite weakness.
The gay characters and relationships were hit or miss. On one hand, you had the first stable lesbian couple in superhero comics (Shrinking Violet and Light Lass), and it was handled well in that they were treated like any other romantic couple in a superhero comic - there wasn't a big revelation, and no issue was made of the fact that they were gay, it was just one part of who they were. There were no stories about their being gay - their being a couple was just part of the background.
On the other hand, there was the clunky manner in which the gay male couple, Shvaughn Erin and Element Lad, were handled.
I can hear you thinking, "Wait a minute, isn't Shvaughn a woman's name?" Yes, yes it is. Shvaughn was the Science Police liason to the Legion of Superheroes for much of the classic era, and eventually became Element Lad's girlfriend. In Volume 4, issue #33, it's revealed that Shvaughn wasn't always a woman. She had fallen in love with Element Lad, and assuming he'd want to be with a woman, had been taking a drug (Profem) that changed her sex so they could be together. No longer having access to the drug, she reverted to her natural form, a young man named Sean. Element Lad accepts Sean and still loves him and the two remain together as a couple.
There are numerous problems with this. First, apparently Shvaughn had fallen in love with EL years before having met him, and had been taking the Pro-fem her entire time in Police Academy in the hope that she'd be assigned the duty of liaison officer to the Legion and would get to meet the man she already loved, despite never having met him. Apparently the decision to make EL the gay Legionnaire came out of a number of fans deciding he was gay (despite having a long-time girlfriend), though they did have some pretty good evidence for this. First, his uniform was originally pink and white. Also . . . well, actually, that's pretty much it. Wait, his name is Jann, and that's a pretty gay name for a boy. If you're not Scandinavian. Which Jann's physical features seem to imply that he is. Also, he had long, wavy, blonde hair. So some readers decided he was gay, and Giffen and the Beirbaums decided to just go with that.
And actually, I have no problem with that part of things. Some people sometimes come to terms with elements of their sexuality later than others, and given that these characters weer in their late teens prior to the 5-years later era, coming to terms with being gay in that time period, at that age isn't implausible. Violet and Light Lass had shown romantic interest in male Legionaires in the past, but there was never a "hey, we're actually gay" moment afterwards. It's the clumsy way in which EL/Erin was handled that bugs me.
But beyond the continuity part, there are other problems. Shvaughn/Sean is reduced from a minor supporting character to a type - he exists to be Element Lad's boyfriend, and little else; in other words, being gay is his primary character trait. The relationship itself, though ostensibly being there to show how a gay couple is just like any other might work better if you didn't have the Violent/Light Lass relationship showing how to do it right. There was never a "Violet and Light Lass are a lesbian couple, see how progressive we are" story - it was just there, one part of who they were.
And in case you think I'm harping on this a bit too much, consider how heterosexual relationships are generally handled. Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl's relationship was about how they were in love, not about their being straight. Traditional romances are never about the couple being straight because, well, that would be a silly thing to make the focus of a story. Gay romances are routinely about the orientation as much as the relationship. This is why the Light Lass/Shrinking Violet relationship was so much better - we were shown a functional, loving couple, not told - and by "told" I mean preached to in a ham-fisted manner.
There are other problems. Element Lad's reaction. He's completely nonplussed by this, which is supposed to be an indication that he was already gay, or maybe bisexual, or just so much in love with Erin that it didn't matter whether Erin was Shvaughn or Sean. So he's a gay man who can love a woman if it's the right woman? Or a man physically altered to have the body of a woman? Which raises the question of Erin's sexuality. Rather than approach EL as a gay man, Erin changes sex to win her man, and is emotionally devastated at the thought of getting cut off from her Profem and having to revert to her previous male form. So either she really was a woman in her base gender identity, or has been lying to everyone, including EL and herself, all the time she's been Shvaughn and this is perfectly OK with EL. And not the least of these problems is the way it implicitly equates being a straight transsexual woman with being a gay man.
It's such a clumsy attempt to shoehorn things in where they don't fit that both characters were erased from reality with the Zero Hour reboot shortly afterwards.
The Legion rebooted (meaning their history was wiped out and replaced with a new history with new characters) and a second Legion was added about halfway through volume 4, with another experiment taking place. At the time, Superman was appearing in four different titles, and instead of, say, Superman having one storyline and Action Comics another, all four titles shared a single storyline, with the titles each numbered by their part in the story, meaning Superman might have part 1, then Adventures of Superman 2, Action 3, and Man of Steel 4, then Superman 5, and so on. It was a top down business decision, the idea being that it would force Superman fans to buy all four Superman titles if they wanted to follow the stories rather than just one or two. DC tried the same thing with the Legion of Superheroes. The main book, Legion of Superheroes, alternated with a spinoff Legionnaires, which featured younger clones of the originals. It didn't work nearly as well in part because unlike Superman, the Legion of Superheroes isn't the most valuable and famous fictional character created in the 20th century (or probably in history). It worked with Superman because it was Superman.
So, back to my main point - How much of a great big nerd I am. In the Superboy era, the Legion of Super-Heroes stories were often just Superboy stories with a random LOSH element thrown in. For example, one early "Legion" story has Pa Kent pointing out what a weird coincidence it is that Clark's girlfriend and greatest enemy (Lana Lang and Lex Luthor) both have the initial's LL. Clark adds that one of his friends from the 30th century is Lightning Lad, another LL. Isn't that bizarre? And by bizarre, I mean "a mundane coincidence". That's also the entire involvement of the Legion in that story. Another early appearance has an older brother of Superboy with similar powers arriving on Earth in a rocketship. This boy, Mon-El, turns out to be from a different planet and has a weakness to lead, leading Superboy to send him into the Phantom Zone until a cure for the lead-poisoning can be found. It takes a thousand years, when Mon-El is released to become a member of the LOSH.
Frequently these Superboy stories involve strange things occurring in Smallville that are later revealed to be a practical joke the Legion decided to play on Superboy, and thus Legion involvement isn't revealed until near the end. During this era, comics were much longer and stories shorter, with several stories appearing in a single issue, and each story being self-contained. As opposed to, oh say, Marvel's recent Civil War event, which was one story spread across over a hundred issues of two-dozen different titles. Even in non-crossover-event stories, a typical story arc will take 3-6 issues to play out.
So I'm reading an early Superboy issue that has four stories in it looking for the Legion story, and I get distracted. One of the stories involves Superboy applying to an exclusive private school being run by mobsters in an attempt to uncover what the mobsters are up to. Not Clark pretending to be a new student - that would make more sense - Superboy applying to attend as Superboy. This being '60s DC, you just have to go with it. It's 10-year-old logic, and the silliness either works for you (it does for me) or it doesn't. The mobsters, recognizing that having a Superhero in their school might be a bad thing, try to come up with an entrance exam even he can't pass. The bulk of the story involves the entrance exam, with maybe two pages having to deal with the mobsters actual scam.
First there's a physical exam. The headmaster has a chunk of kryptonite he hides in an old cannon, and then has Superboy do pushups next to it, expecting he'll get sick and fail the test. Superboy spends hours doing pushups, at one point getting bored with regular ones and switching to using his superbreath to raise and lower himself. He had seen the kryptonite inside and secretly stuffed in a lead cannonball to protect himself. The sheer silliness of using his superbreath to do the pushups gave me a big goofy smile. The next part of the entrance exam is an essay on summer vacation. Realizing that it's a trap - as soon as he finishes, regardless of the quality, the headmaster will fail him - Superboy devises a simple way to escape this trap. He doesn't stop writing. Soon the room and hallways are filled with pages of his exploits, and they're running out of room in that building. The exasperated headmaster, who can't fail Superboy until he stops (why exactly isn't explained, but that's part of the charm) tells him he's passed, and they go on to the next test - math. They give him an impossible math problem - write down the exact value of pi to the last digit. Since pi is an irrational number, it has an infinite number of digits, and thus, the problem is insolvable. This, by the way, is a method used to outwit a supercomputer on Star Trek at least once, possibly twice. Undaunted, Superboy fills up every blackboard in the school, doing the math in his head on the fly, then proceeds to the halls and the road outside leading to the school, and eventually billboards next to the road, which the billboard owners are happy to paint over, figuring the publicity they'll get from Superboy writing on them is worth more than the ads that were there. The mobsters realize publicity is something they want to avoid, so they pass him on this one as well.
He's given one last test - drama. He's asked to recite an entire Shakespeare play from memory. He attempts to use his x-ray vision to read one from the library, but finds that the room has been painted with lead paint, and he can't see through lead. Nonetheless, he comes up with a plan - they said he had to recite Shakespeare, but didn't say how loudly, so he starts a Julius Caesar speech using his super-voice so loudly it threatens to deafen the men in the room. They again give in and pass him to save their hearing.
The big scam, by the way, was that the teachers would once a month honor a student's achievements, prompting the parents to attend, and would use the knowledge of when their house would be empty to rob them. Think about it for a second. They start an exclusive private school, build up its reputation at a national level high enough to attract the children of the rich and famous, and do this as a front for burglary. It's stupid, but it's stupid in a fun way, the same way buying a movie studio and hiring your archenemies to work for you as stunt performers in your movie so you can kill them with staged accidents is stupid, but fun. That's the actual plot of an early Fantastic Four issue, by the way.
The silliness here is part of the charm.
So what was the point of all this? Well, I opened that particular issue to look for the Legion story, and just got caught up in the entrance exam one to the point that I had to know what the next part would be and how Superboy would outwit the mobsters, and forgot to look for the story I had explicitly gotten the issue out to read. And it doesn't matter that none of the story holds up to even a little critical analysis because it's just so much fun that I don't care.
There's just a kind of charm to Superboy filling blackboards and hallways and billboards with millions of digits of pi just to prove how awesome he is, or mobsters creating an exclusive private prep school that probably made them many times what they could from crime as a front for a burglary scam.
It delights the 10-year-old in me, and I think that's why it works. It appeals to a part of me that can, if only for the space of the few minutes it takes to read the story, believe in the impossible.