The C Word

Independent Domicile: I want to say, before we begin, because this interview's only being recorded and transcribed- that is to say there's no audio- and I know you've been staying away from the public eye as much as you can, but since we started the interview you've lost forty pounds. Your skin is pale, clothes fit loosely.

Superman: Well, for the sake of parity, I want to state you look like crap, too.

(laughs, breaks into a fit of coughing)

ID: How are you doing, really?

S: The days are harder. And I think it's all really sunk in. I've been living with the reality of my own mortality for a while now, but it's really starting to feel real now. I guess, I guess I got cocky. You know, I've been in so many strange places, been confronted with so many weird threats, there was a part of me that believed that God, the universe, whatever, had some kind of plan for me, that I was invulnerable until I'd done that one great thing that I'd been shot across space in a rocket to do. And I don't think I've done it yet; there's no sense of closure to my life, no finality to it yet.

You know, fighting Doomsday, there was something epic about that. It had grandeur, and spectacle; I could see paintings of that immortalized in the Smithsonian and the Louvre, and while the idea makes me blush a little, stopping him, stopping murder incarnate, that felt like something purposeful. When Lois held me in her arms, and I wasn't even aware enough or strong enough anymore to see, but I knew she was holding me in her arms, and I felt that maybe that was that, that I'd fulfilled my purpose, that what I'd accomplished was something really good and truly great, and that I could pass on from that point and be peaceful. And nothing since has had that kind of closure for me.

ID: So do you think there's something to that? I mean, and I don't know where I read it, so maybe it's just a gossip-column thing, but your father had a heart attack around that time, and went and found you in some kind of an afterlife and convinced you to come back. Do you think that, maybe, that was a mistake, that you were supposed to stay dead after that?

S: It's a thought, isn't it? But honestly, no. I don't think that's true because I was supposed to marry Lois. As sure as I know anything, I know that, and to do that, I had to come back after Doomsday.

ID: So what about that, then, marrying Lois? Isn't that closure enough for you?

S: I don't know. I remember the first time I found out my cells had stopped aging. It was at S.T.A.R. Labs, and they told me that, functionally, I hadn't aged for several years, and in fact it appeared like the aging process had partially reversed, so age-related damage that they had previously recorded had healed. And there was a kind of a quiet pause, before the head scientist, whose name escapes me at the moment, um, and I apologize for that, I'm sure it'll come to me, but I know it wasn't Emil Hamilton- he was on the team, but I remember he was preoccupied with Kara at the time- anyway, the lead scientist told me, “we don't know if you'll ever age another day again.”

And Lois actually got really upset; she turned to me, tears in her eyes already, and I excused us quickly before flying us out of the conference room. By the time we touched down in the arctic, she had regained her composure, but she explained, very carefully, why that upset her.

She said she'd always assumed I'd outlive her, that stress or cancer from her mother's side, or a building falling on her or even her own propensity for eating out of The Planet's vending machines would kill her, but the thought that she was just a blip on my radar, just the first ring on a tree that might never stop growing, that her part in my life was going to end up so trivial- it nearly broke her heart. And I told her the first thing that came to my mind, because even though I think faster than a computer she can always tell when I hesitate: that I couldn't imagine outliving her, because I was fairly certain that her dying would kill me. She hasn't had a problem with it since.

But I don't think the reverse is true; I don't think my death will kill her- and not simply because she's had to live through that once already, but because as much as I know she loves me, Lois doesn't need me the way I need her. She loves me, she cares for me and about me, and hard as it is to believe she genuinely likes having me around all the time- but she doesn't need me. There have been times when I've wondered if she wouldn't have been a better reporter, maybe a better person, if it weren't for me. And maybe that's one thing I wish I could hold on to see, the person my wife becomes without me.

ID: Okay. But closure. I know you'll never be happy with the thought of leaving Lois behind- that with her you'll always want one more day, but acknowledging your impending mortality, do you think it's even reasonable to seek closure at this point?

S: Hmm. I don't know. I just hate leaving business unfinished. Take the League- I think the League's in transition now. With all humility, I've been sort of a go-to for a lot of issues, and now that that resource is being taken away, there's been a bit of a scramble to figure out how things work when you can't just fling a Kryptonian at it.

ID: What about Kara?

S: Kara isn't me. There are a lot of things that, physically, she can handle, but there are a lot of other things, having to do with maturity, and experience, or even just rapport that I have, with a lot of world leaders, a lot of communities across the globe- I've been at this a fairly long time, and I've met a lot of people, made a lot of friends. That's something the League is learning to work around, now. And the same goes to an extent for physical threats. I mean, Kara can hold her own, but she hasn't been under a yellow sun for nearly the same amount of time as I have- there was more than one time where I was the weapon of first and last resort- because if I couldn't stop it there was no one else who could, and that's something the League is I think reeling from.

And I'm still healthy enough at the moment to contribute, so don't think I'm down or out. But I've been taking a backseat, trying to let others do things I might have done myself in the past. One person who's really stepped up of course has been Diana. Bruce and I have such conflicting styles of management, and such strong personalities, that people often saw us fight. It made people think we were in charge, that we were the ones running the League. But, and I think Bruce would agree with me, the League lives and dies on two people's shoulders- and that's Diana's and J'onn's. Diana has a quiet authority- like what Bruce always wants, but gets irritated about when you don't read his mind and do what he wants, so he goes with gruff schoolteacher. But Diana and J'onn are the people who soothe bruised egos, who make the calls afterward to make sure follow-up assistance is there if it's necessary, who make sure we haven't accidentally caused India to invade Pakistan, or make sure monitor duty's filled. But what I'm getting at is the League is maturing, I think, into a group that will function rather well in a world without me- and I'd like to live long enough to see that, too.

ID: So what it sounds like is you've made your peace with dying- you'd just like to stay after it happens.

S: Yeah, something like that. You think we could swing it?

We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.