Cipher and the Incredibly Pretentious Turtles Essay

[Cipher]

So I'm in this 200 hundred level English class right now, which is a requirement for my major but honestly, beneath what I should be doing right now. I affectionately refer to it as "Bullsh** 101."

Our first essay was supposed to be a justification piece on one thing you cared passionately about. A sport, a piece of art, etc. I chose the Ninja Turtles comic. The essay is super pretentious, but that's what the assignment called for. I just thought someone here might find it interesting. Or not. I think most of the formatting carried over, barring some italics and whatnot.

Also, I had to divide this into two posts due to length.

Why I Love the Ninja Turtles

There are two boxes sitting in my parents’ house. One lays dust-covered and neglected in the rafters of our garage. The other sits open and cared for atop a desk in my room. One is filled to its plastic capacity; the other, half-empty and cardboard, is being filled all the time. Their contents are incredibly similar and endlessly different. I keep two boxes in my parents house, and each is filled with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

The forlorn box in my garage is full of action figures, mutants with spring-loaded hands and tiny, single-colored accessories. I haven’t pulled them out in years, except to flirt with the idea of finding all their tiny pieces and pawning them off to collectors. The box in my room is filled, and I know exactly how nerdy this sounds, with comic books spanning the last twenty years, and that is what I refer to when I say I love the Ninja Turtles, present tense. Yet in order to understand what I love about the comics now, a familiarity with my own introduction to the franchise is necessary, as is the history of the franchise itself. I love the comics now because they have an anything-goes, underground, creator-driven sensibility. I love them equally as much, however, for their difference from the action-figure focused Turtles I knew during my childhood. I love them for being a mature version of an immature concept from my earlier years, even if they were created first. I love them because when I read them, I get not only the pleasure of reading something alternately fun and poignant, but also a sense that I have grown up, in whatever negligible way.

For anyone looking for a refresher course, every iteration of the Turtles operates on a few key concepts. Four humanoid Turtles are mutated by a mysterious canister of ooze. The titular characters, consisting of the laid-back Michelangelo, leader Leonardo, brainiac Donatello, and the hot-headed Raphael are trained in the ways of the ninja by their Master Splinter, a humanoid rat. At some point they do battle with the evil Shredder and his band of ninja criminals known as the Foot Clan. Beyond that, the differences between interpretations are enormous, and with such an absurd premise, the sky is truly the limit.

As stated earlier, my favored interpretation now is the original comics, which have run, entirely creator-controlled, from 1984 to 2010. The series’ origin lies in two struggling Massachusetts artists, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, who managed to self publish a small run of a single-issue comic known as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The initial issue was intended as an homage and parody to the vast number of overtly dark teenager, ninja, and mutant-focused comics dominating the field. It took the industry by storm, prompting the creation of several more issues, guest artists, and a toy-and-cartoon empire which would vastly eclipse the adult-oriented comic in the public eye. All the while, new issues continued to be published in an underground setting.

To understand my love of the comics, understanding my history with the child-oriented toy and cartoon series of the early ‘90s is essential. Those interpretations provided my first link to the Turtles, and provide a comparison to the material I now enjoy. It isn’t difficult to figure out what interested me as a three-year-old boy. The “cowabunga”-ing, pizza-eating, craziness of the cartoon, which was designed as an advertisement for the equally colorful and enticing toy line, was impossible to avoid between 1989 and 1993. It was equally, I’d argue, impossible not to like. The characters were bizarre and creative, the plots self-aware and humorous, and the merchandise fun and self-perpetuating. I can’t attribute my creative interests wholly to sitting down in front of Ninja Turtles, but forming my own half-hour adventures with a massive collection of action figures may have played a role. I remember being so enthralled by the world of these characters that I once kicked a costumed “Ninja Turtle” in the shins at a friend’s birthday party, in ’94 as far as I can guess. Hey, ninjas are supposed to fight, aren’t they?

So, yes, I loved the cartoon and toy line with every other kid my age. But those aren’t my Turtles now. It’s not my version. My version begins in 1984 with a self-published parody so far in tone from the cartoon it becomes difficult to place them in the same franchise. It begins with a single, self-aware issue in which four mutant reptiles duel a ninja assassin to avenge their rat sensei’s former owner, and it revels in all its over-the-top, brooding glory. It marks the start of a series twenty-five years in the making, funded separately from cartoon so that it always treaded water as an underground production. It’s a series which throughout the years has experimented wildly with tone, art, genre and subject matter. From ninjas to aliens, humor to noir, experimental art and occasionally poignant writing unexpected from its jokey premise, the comic presents itself with gleeful abandon. But I’ll get to all that in a bit.

By freshman year of high school, I had forgotten the Turtles. My interest didn’t return until, sorting through a cabinet full of old school papers bound for the trash, I came across the first four issues of the series, purchased years earlier by my father during the fad. I had always been aware of the comic books and their adult demographic, and had even flipped through them once as a kid, but they simply never clicked. I read through them again, so many years later, and found myself enjoying their simple fun, their ‘80s-styled grittiness in artwork and content, their self-aware elements of parody. It wasn’t enough to hook me, but it was nostalgia enough to get me to search out and purchase a few more issues. And that, for me, was the beginning. Well, the second beginning.

Imagine you’re fifteen years old. You’re feeling ironic, at least enough to laud a childhood pastime on occasion. Now imagine you’re a budding English major too, and that your favorite thing to do is write fluffy papers on short fiction at three in the morning, or at least it seems to be. Finally, imagine someone handing you everything you loved about childhood genre, all that action-packed fluff, and saying, “Here, analyze this.” And you find, to your surprise, that you can. That was the rediscovery of the Ninja Turtles comic for me. Here were the characters from my childhood, but somehow more sophisticated. The more I read, the more I discovered its bizarre art from a collection of underground talent. I saw its clever parody. I found a series which, while being wonderfully reckless and silly, followed its titular characters throughout their life and aging, and dealt with those issues in a down-to-earth manner. One issue had the Turtles go on an intentionally over-the-top romp with pastiche superheroes. The very next ended with Raphael coldly contemplating that they were the last of their kind. It’s difficult to describe, but I know what aspects drew me back in. It was fun, it was poignant, and sometimes both at once. It was all those things multiplied double by the nostalgia-glasses I wore while reading it.

I enjoy the series most when it’s being poignant, at least as poignant as Ninja Turtles can be, and that’s perhaps its most relevant tone when discussing the difference between it and the cartoon from my childhood. A thirteen-issue storyline titled “City at War” remains one of my favorite pieces of genre fiction, contrast to literary, to this day. It sees the Turtles and their supporting cast deal with a criminal power vacuum of their own, accidental making, and brings their act of vengeance from the beginning of the series into perspective. At the same time, their human friends April and Casey seek new lives in different parts of the country, drifting in and out of jobs and relationships only to return to New York. Just when it all sounds like fantastic melodrama, it’s not. One panel into the Turtles playing a melancholy game of cards and mulling over the state of their lives through pithy dialogue, avoiding issues and speaking like four honest, confused teenagers, it’s clear that it’s not. When I first read it some six years ago, I was looking at characters from my childhood, being enthralled by them, and somehow, feeling adult.

[Cipher]

Those issues were published in 1993. First reading them twelve years later, I felt like a piece of my childhood was just now moving on with me. Each old issue I find, each new issue I buy, I continue to be surprised by the art I almost missed. From dangling glimpses of the Turtles in old-age, separated and bitter, to their wacky adventures against robots and aliens, the comics are little vignettes of underground art. They are every bit the engaging, creativity-inspiring force the cartoon series was to me as child, but with adult sensibilities. I come back to one conversation between Michelangelo and Leonardo, from the storyline immediately following “City at War,” which not only perfectly captures why I love the series, but the way I feel about it as well. Discussing the possibility of leaving his brothers, Michelangelo begins:

Michelangelo: “Wow – we’re all splitting up. It seems strange.”

Leonardo: “We’re getting older. I guess it’s natural we’d all want our own spaces.”

Michelangelo: “Man, I got this heavy feeling. Everything we’ve known, it’s over.”

Leonardo: “No, not over. Everything’s just different now.” (Lawson)

The conversation dangles off without a conclusion. Looking at the issue alone, I simply appreciate the moment for its poignancy. Rarely does a genre series grant fantastic characters such a realistic treatment. But reading it as someone who has enjoyed the different versions of the characters as a child and adult, the double-meaning is overwhelming. I’m older, but this franchise is still with me. Everything’s just different now.

Just this last September, co-creator Peter Laird, who had acquired sole intellectual rights to the property, sold the Turtles franchise to Viacom, a major media conglomerate. Plans have already been announced for the production of a Nickelodeon children’s cartoon by 2012, and adult-oriented comics, which never managed to turn much profit, are likely over. It’s difficult to describe how the news impacted me, largely because it didn’t. I shrugged; I went about the rest of my day. But I lament, for whatever new audience the buyout attracts, that there will no longer be that multi-faceted franchise appealing to kids and adults at the same time. The Turtles have been commercial for decades now, but now that obscure and experimental comic series, and its small stable of underground artists, will be gone. It will all be expendable entertainment. There will never be another company ready to fuel its massive licensing fees into the hands of small time artists, I realized as I read farewell statements and retrospectives from the authors and illustrators of my favorite stories. I don’t blame Laird; he and his partner made bank on what started as a joke, saw their creation garner major attention, and maintained the integrity of the book for twenty-five years, sometimes at personal expense. Shortly after the sale, Laird even issued a statement of fatigue, stating he missed the days when could “simply be that guy with a sketch book.” I wish him well, but I wonder, without properties like this, how many people will never be inspired the way I was when I watched the cartoon, when I read the comics, and when I thought about the gap between them.

If that sounds melodramatic, it is. Life will go on without my version of the Turtles, or without any version at all. It’s selfish to assume otherwise. It’s simply one less tiny bastion of creativity extinguished, one less concrete link to a person’s own childhood where ideas were free and easy to shape. In the very early portion of the comic series, Eastman and Laird dedicated an issue to their favorite classic comic book artist, Jack Kirby. Donatello meets a fictionalized version of Kirby who leaves him with the message, “Life, at best, is bittersweet,” a phrase which becomes a repeated mantra throughout the book (Eastman). In a way, that’s what the series has left me; an artistic wonderland that I’ll always appreciate, a bittersweet ending.

When I read Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I am three, I am fifteen, I’ll be thirty-two years old. It’s great on its own, but it’s also a connection to myself across a period of time as wide as the spectrum of stories it tells. It’s a link between lofty art and pizza-throwing vehicles dragged across living room floors. I couldn’t ask for less. I couldn’t ask for more.

Work Cited
Lawson, Jim. “Evolution.” Comic book. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Vol 2. Issue 3.
Northampton: Mirage, 1994. Print.
Eastman, Kevin and Peter Laird. “Kirby and the Warp Crystal.” Comic book. Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles. Vol. 1. Northampton: Mirage, 1986. Print.

For those curious, the first draft of this essay recieved 13.7/15 upon first hand-in. This is the revised copy, which I'll turn in next week to earn more points.

[Powder]

Not to be a softie but the conclusion got me teary eyed. Its written wonderfully & I agree with every point you've made. Fans like you are the reason fans like me take such pride in the fandom, its not just a franchise; its extended family.

[gobo]

I'll get around to reading it later, but I'm looking forward to it. BTW, aren't all essays supposed to be pretentious by definition?

[discordiatookie]

Well, that was a great read. Thanks for sharing!

[Cipher]

Originally Posted by gobo

BTW, aren't all essays supposed to be pretentious by definition?

I just wanted to be clear that I don't take myself, or the Turtles, that seriously on a regular basis.

Powder and discordiatookie, thanks.

[Spacebabie]

I think it was very well written.

[Cowabunga Kiefer]

Very nice job! It was a good read, and I liked the use of comparison to how they're portrayed in the comics. Well done!

[Machias Banshee]

Very nicely written..

[Luzmagica]

Originally Posted by Powder

Its written wonderfully & I agree with every point you've made. Fans like you are the reason fans like me take such pride in the fandom, its not just a franchise; its extended family.

100% agree!!

Originally Posted by discordiatookie

Well, that was a great read. Thanks for sharing!

Originally Posted by Spacebabie

I think it was very well written.

Originally Posted by Cowabunga Kiefer

Very nice job! It was a good read, and I liked the use of comparison to how they're portrayed in the comics. Well done!

Originally Posted by Machias Banshee

Very nicely written..

Well, its not a secret, my English is so poor , I prefer "Quote" : They all express much better than me how nice your work is for me!!! Thanks a lot for sharing!!! Congratulations.

[dontplaydead27]

Oh I'll admit i'm an emotional softy, and it made me tear up, if not because i'm extremely emotional anyway, because of the fact that someone has expressed in writing what I never knew how to. Reading this made me look back into my life, what my experiences with it were. I do say, congratulations on it, and I think most would agree that we couldn't express "it" (the TMNT phenomena) any better. It was a great read, I honestly enjoyed reading it. I think it set the mood for how the rest of my day will be; nolstalgic. Thanks, and good luck to you.

[Monte Williams]

This was a fine read. As someone who has been a fan of the franchise since the '80s but who has had precious few opportunities to explore the comics, I enjoyed this very much.

I never cared for the first few issues, but I got to read a Christmas issue with lots of plot points that were recucled for the movie, and I loved it; I wish the trades were easier to track down.

[Cipher]

Honestly, the first batch of issues aren't anywhere near my favorites. They're fun, but I wouldn't like series nearly as much if that had been the tone used throughout. I know a lot of fans feel like it's never been as good as it was before the end of "Return to New York," but to me, that's where the series actually takes off.

Again, thanks to everyone who actually took the time to read this.

[Ninja_Shoe_Repair]

why no credit for my help as I was the one to look up that issue for the quote at 4 in the morning so you could make deadline?

I'm joking of course. I was hoping you'd eventually post it. Nicely done piece. I was wondering what approach you were taking as it's hard to articulate TMNT into a way that could reach out to an academic such as a professor that probably would normally roll their eyes upon even first seeing the words "ninja turtles" in a formal writing class.

A+

[Venom]

Aside from a few minor variances of word selection, the overall message conveyed throughout the essay is great. Sums up pretty much my exacts feelings toward the Turtles.

One question: are you really about to be thirty-two, or was that literary effect (or whatever proper term it's called )? I ask because I just turned twenty-seven and I was four when the miniseries premiered in '87.

[Vivi]

Great musings. I, too, fell hard the second time around after watching the original movie several years after the craze had died down.

[***First of Two Latin Kings***]

At the risk of seeming extremely pretentious myself, I will say that I don't really consider this essay to be all that pretentious. I used to teach English and I took a number of classes while working on my Master's that required I write extremely lengthy, verbose papers--some of which were submitted to academic journals for publication (and promptly turned down). I haven't given your essay the time it probably deserves yet, but I wonder if you are enrolled at a Community College or University. I ask because there is a big difference between the two and I wouldn't consider your essay to be "pretentious" by University standards. I'm not saying it is bad or good, I haven't given it enough attention yet to make such an assessment (but I will).

Some people are probably thinking that I'm just trying to be a pr!ck towards you, but again, I'm not saying this essay is either good or bad, I'm simply saying I don't consider it pretentious. And believe it or not, there are a few pretentious academic essays out there that deal with the subject of the TMNT.

[Cipher]

Originally Posted by Venom

One question: are you really about to be thirty-two, or was that literary effect (or whatever proper term it's called )? I ask because I just turned twenty-seven and I was four when the miniseries premiered in '87.

No, no. Just hyperbole. I'm a twenty-year-old college sophomore.

Oroku CJJ, I'm at a major university. And I mean pretentious within the context of a personal essay, a piece focusing on the Ninja Turtles, and it now being a lengthy forum post.

And being pretentious, in any context, is a bad thing. It means you're assuming more validity and impact than your piece earns on its own.

why no credit for my help as I was the one to look up that issue for the quote at 4 in the morning so you could make deadline?

Due thanks for that one.

[***First of Two Latin Kings***]

Originally Posted by Cipher

And being pretentious, in any context, is a bad thing. It means you're assuming more validity and impact than your piece earns on its own.

I can tell you as someone who holds a degree higher than a BA that this is NOT the case. In the world of academia, being pretentious is sometimes the preference (especially in the case of scholarly articles).

[NameGoesHere1066]

that was a good read. Well done Cipher.