The Joker: Batman’s Monster

This is the Final Paper for one of my English Classes in College.

The night was dark and shrouded in a cool mist. The blood moon hung high above that grimy city; a city once booming with prime real estate and well-dressed entrepreneurs that now rots beneath the filth and crime of its inhabitants. A common night of crime was shaping up to be more than strange for Commissioner Gordon and his young deputy Riggs. Nearing his retirement, Detective Gordon begrudgingly accepted the call to investigate screaming said to be coming from a nearby warehouse. As it got harder and harder just to put on the uniform every morning, Gordon was hoping to sail into his retirement, and into a few margaritas in Paradise, with little to no complications. He was ready and willing to train the young detective Riggs on everything he knew so that he could get to that cold margarita by the beach all the sooner. But the stubborn confidence that he usually emitted in front of Riggs was wavering as they headed to the warehouse, because the distressed woman who called it in also mentioned that she heard, what sounded like, hysterical laughter over the sound of the screaming.

The cop car pulled in to the warehouse parking lot and slowly screeched to a halt. Beneath the shower of the headlights, the warehouse appeared as a menacing giant. The glass from the windows high above were broken and fogged with grime, and the putrid air that hit Gordons face reminded him of just how filthy the city is. The two cops approached the broken and busted in metal doors. Weapons drawn, they slowly entered the dark and damp warehouse. There is not a sound to be heard, save for the constant dripping of toxic fluid against the slimy concrete. Away in the distance there was a dim light shining through an open office door.

“Careful now, son” Gordon said, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.

The two approached the office door, and the stinging smell of blood and burning metal got stronger. Gordon kicked open the door with violent force that left his hip hurting. Both cops aim their guns into the office, ready and willing to gun down anything that moved. But nothing inside moved, and the scene was both gruesome and terrifying.

A lifeless body, covered in blood, tied to a chair with extension cords was laying facing the wall. The dim light bulb hung from a cord and swung ever so gently. Photos and newspaper clippings covered the walls, and the cans of half empty gasoline and rusty saw blades covered in dried blood sent a chill up the young cop’s spine.

Gordon holstered his gun and rushed to the side of the victim.

“He’s still got a pulse. Call it in!” Gordon told Deputy Riggs.

Riggs called in for an ambulance, all the while with a shaky voice and a light head.

Gordon unbound the victim’s hands and pushed the chair away. The man’s breathe was shallow but present. Gordon took off his coat and laid it over the man, whose body was trembling.

“What sort of monster would do this?” Riggs asked, staring blankly at the carnage around him.

“I’ll tell you who,” began Gordon, “He calls himself The Joker. A sick and twisted criminal who finds humor in other people’s pain. I’ve worked in this city a long time, and I’ve never met a more monstrous human being.”

“But… how? How could someone do this to another person? Is he insane?” Asked Riggs, searching for answers to an otherwise hopeless situation.

“Well ‘he is clearly psychotic, but he does not fit neatly into any one specific diagnosis’ (Arter, “The Killing Joke: Why Batman Doesn’t Kill the Joker”),” Gordon tried to explain. “He seems to have a lack of connection of what it means to be human. ‘It’s [a] monstrous lack of connection to all things we think of as human- guilt, remorse, worry, feelings that would stop him from hurting, killing, torturing,’ (Tithecott, 304) that defines who he is.”

The two cops made their way over to the wall filled with photos and newspaper clippings. The headlines of the clippings all centered around the Joker and his crimes. Many of them showed the infamous Batman handing the Joker over to the authorities at Arkham Asylum. The photos were of random people, some well-known missing case victims, and some Gordon had never known about. Many of the photos had the eyes of the subjects scratched out.

“The sad part is that the Joker doesn’t seem so monstrous when you look at the city he lives in,” Gordon began to ponder. “When you look at the crimes he commits, then you look at the crime and filth of this city, it seems like a perfect match. It’s as if our ‘monsters turn out to be not so foreign after all, but rather poorly disguised surrogates of our rage against women and immigrants’ (McCormick, 272), and all the other hatreds floating around this city. I tell ya, son, ‘looking at our monsters is a good way of finding out who we think we are, or who we think we might be, or even who we want to be’ (Tithecott, 302).”

“It’s just hard to believe that this monster could have anything to do with this city. I mean, I know the city has its problems, but what city doesn’t?” Riggs pondered. “I love this city, and I can’t see how this monster could represent it in any way.”

Gordon peeled a photo off the wall that was of a young woman. She appeared to be around thirty years old, well dressed with glasses resting across the arch of her nose. She was sitting in a wheelchair and appeared to be leaving a hospital. Across the picture were the letters “HAHAHA” etched in red ink.

“I tell you what, son. If you stay in this city long enough, you’ll come to understand a lot. The Joker is Gotham’s monster, and ‘monsters can stand as symbols of Human Vulnerability and crisis, and as such they can play imaginative foils for thinking about our own responses to menace’ (Asma, 62).” Gordon looked hard at that photo of the girl in the wheelchair. “I can’t tell you how many nights I had nightmares of what could have been if I was able to stop that monster from hurting people. Scenes from what I’ve seen him do play out in my head all the time. ‘We use imagination in order to establish our own agency in chaotic and uncontrollable situations’ (Asma, 63), and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined things differently.”

“Why hasn’t this maniac been put to death or killed?” asked Riggs.

“He’s too powerful.” Explained Gordon.

“How can one man be that powerful?”

“Not only does he have the respect of other criminals, many of whom run this God Forsaken city, he also has many fans among the citizens.”

“Fans, sir?” Inquired Riggs.

“’The Joker appeals to the greed of the of the teaming masses’ (Decker, 144). ‘Our desire for normality, our fetishization of Average Joe, inevitably means that abnormality is constructed as something that needs to be repressed, something that inevitably becomes desirable, mysterious, [and even] sexy’ (Tithecott, 301). And the people who crave normality in this city unconsciously push the outsiders to the extreme nature of The Joker.”

“That’s absolutely insane,” Riggs was beginning to get aggravated. “Anyone who thinks that this monstrous behavior is someone to look up to should be thrown in jail. I swear, as long as I call myself Gotham PD, I’ll hunt down anyone who agrees with this monster.”

“That’s good, son.” Gordon calmly placed the photo of the woman in his pocket. “That’s the problem with the Joker. The type of monster that he is ‘both terrify[ies] and fascinate[es] us’ (McCormick, 266-2677). It’s as if his actions ‘invite us to reflect on our humanity, and, indeed, our inhumanity’ (McCormick, 269), and some of them just aren’t strong enough to repress their darkest desires. ‘In order to discover our values, we have to face trials and tribulations, and monster [like the Joker] help us imaginatively rehearse’ (Asma, 63), and it appears you’ve got the right idea.”

Riggs was about to retort, but there was a sudden loud bang within the warehouse. Both Gordon and Riggs unholstered their weapons.

“Stay alert,” whispered Gordon.

Both approached the open office door, but saw nothing of note through the stream of light that their flashlights granted them. A few rats scurried over a fallen beam in the distance. Gordon called in on his radio to check the ETA of the ambulance.

“Boy do I have the creeps from this place,” said Riggs.

“Yeah well you best get a hold of your senses. The Ambulance won’t be here for another 10 minutes. Apparently, Gotham is having an abnormal amount of crime tonight, which I didn’t think was possible.”

The two cops settled back into the depth of the office, neither of them holstering their guns. Riggs looked all around as his nerves began to calm down.

“What’s the story of this guy, the Joker? Is there any reason for him being such a monster?” asked Riggs.

Gordon rubbed his hip from when he had kicked in the door. “I suppose his story is a harsh one, but then again no one is certain of his background. That’s what makes him so titillating to most who know about him. He has no definitive origin, so it is left up to us to imagine what might have happened to him. Maybe, in a different city, he might not have turned out like this. Maybe, if he was given the proper support from his community he could have been good. ‘We make monsters by failing to be human and recognize and respect the humanity of others’ (McCormick, 271). I suppose the Joker just fell prey to this cold city just like many others.”

Riggs leaned up against the desk in the office and took a deep breath.

“Some could even argue that whoever the Batman is also fell victim to the cold insanity of the city.” Said Riggs.

“I don’t know about that one, son. I’ve had the honor to work with the Bat on many occasions, and he is nothing like this maniac.” Retorted Gordon.

“Hear me out,” began Riggs, “I took a psychology class in University when I wasn’t busy with the academy. We used to argue about who Batman is, and why he does what he does. Back then I didn’t know who they were talking about when they mentioned The Joker, but now I understand. I understand a little too well for my liking. My professor used to proclaim that ‘both Batman and the Joker are different sides of the same coin… [that they] could not be any more different, yet they are still remarkably similar. It could be argued that both are completely insane’ (Arter, 35).”

Gordon laughed under his breath. “I don’t know if you could ever convince me that Batman is anything like this monster.”

“But I can sure try.” Riggs was beginning to smile, partly because the situation needed a little lighthearted dialogue, but also because he had an affinity for proving points. “Look at it this way, ‘both Batman and the Joker carry out their respective missions to the extreme, never stopping. Neither will ever give up; both are determined to make a lasting impact and difference, leaving behind a legacy no one will ever forget.’ (Arter, 35). They constantly battle, but neither of them ever wins. It’s as if ‘neither Batman nor the Joker ever wants to definitively end the game [because] the end of the game is the end of play, and it is therefore undesirable to the Joker’ (Peaslee, “Joker: A Serious Study of the Clown Prince of Crime). In this way, and ‘in order to pursue the Joker, Batman must adopt part of his insanity’ (Peaslee, “Joker: A Serious Study of the Clown Prince of Crime).”

“Woah woah,” Gordon chuckled and casually leaned up against the wall, “You’re gonna lose me if you’re gonna start claiming that the Batman is insane. This,” Gordon pointed to the blood-stained room, “is insanity. Batman is out there trying to stop insanity.”

“But isn’t it strange that he hasn’t stopped the Joker?”

“Well, son, the truth is that he has stopped the Joker. Several times.”

“Yes, but I mean stop the Joker once and for all. Why does he keep letting the Joker go free?”

“Well, it is a bit complicated…” Gordon began.

“It has to be frustrating for you most of all. ‘Batman’s self-imposed rule against killing the Joker, a rule that the Joker both recognizes and exploits’ (Peaslee, “Joker: A Serious Study of the Clown Prince of Crime) has this monster running free every other week.”

Gordon was quiet and listening.

“And why doesn’t Batman kill the Joker? The most monstrous criminal this city has ever seen, and the Batman just lets him live. Why? It’s because ‘Batman needs the Joker in order to secure his own identity as the Joker’s antithesis’ (Peaslee, “Joker: A Serious Study of the Clown Prince of Crime). ‘The Joker knows that regardless of how he may push him mentally, the Batman will not kill him’ (Shetty, “The Batman/ Joker Dynamic”). So this monster running around slicing people up, torturing people, from what it looks like here, and hysterically laughing all the while gets to go free every time because the one person who could actually stop him won’t.” Riggs chortled sarcastically, “the b*****d is probably filthy rich too. Lord knows he’s probably getting paid by every major crime lord around.”

“’He has no interest in loot (Decker, 136),” Gordon chimed in, “He ‘wants only to cause havoc (Decker, 136). I can see what you are getting at with their relationship. I’ve seen it in his eyes. The Joker seems ‘intensely jealous of the attention that Batman receives from the public’ (Decker, 136).

“Exactly,” said Riggs, “and ‘the Batman effectively seals his own fate by continually saving the Joker, allowing him to create more murders down the road.’ (Shetty, “The Batman/ Joker Dynamic”). He swoops down and saves the day, gets the applause, then the Joker gets jealous. It’s a vicious cycle Batman has with his own monster.”

“Huh,” Gordon muttered, “I never thought of the Joker as Batman’s monster. Reminds me of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein.”

“Reminds me more of Apollo and Dionysius.” Said Riggs.

“The old Greek Gods? How so?”

Riggs shifted his weight to his other leg and glanced momentarily at the office’s open door. “Well ‘Batman… represents Apollo. He operates on virtuous principles and seeks law, order and justice above all things. The Joker represents Dionysius: he seeks chaos and ultimately the disruption of order. [He] is therefore a philosophical villain, viewing the order enforced by Batman as a mere illusion’ (Dyer, “Batman and the Joker as the Apollo/ Dionysius Archetypes”).”

“And this all goes back to Batman and the Joker being, how did you say it, two sides of the same coin?” Gordon seemed unconvinced.

“Indeed. ‘The joker reveals that he doesn’t want to destroy Batman. He needs Batman. And they are destined to partake in this Apollonian/ Dionysian duality for eternity’ (Dyer, “Batman and the Joker as the Apollo/ Dionysius Archetypes”). ‘If one were to kill the other, his justification for his existence would disappear’ (Shetty, “The Batman/ Joker Dynamic”).

“Ok, your point is taken. ‘Without the Joker, there is no Batman. Can it also be true that in the absence of a Batman, there would be no Jokers?’ (Decker, 131)” Gordon asked with a challenging tone.

Riggs holstered his gun and used his hands to emphasize his point. “Yes, absolutely. ‘The Joker seems to imply that [Batman] has no one but himself to blame for [his] rampage through Gotham. The implication is that evil is an unhappy and unexpected by-product of society’s best efforts to do good and maintain order’ (Decker, 131). ‘Batman could rid Gotham of muggers, beat up all of the drug dealers, and round up all of the average criminals for the Gotham City Police Department, he may feel that it would not be enough [though]. By setting his sights upon the Joker, [he] has given himself a target that is worthy of his mission. If Batman were to kill the Joker, however, he would be back at square one’ (Arter, 36). He could not exist if it weren’t for the Joker’s existence.”

“His own personal monster” muttered Gordon. “Batman is this city’s shining beacon of hope; a symbol of pure control and order. And just like the Yin to the Yang, the Joker is the symbol of pure chaos and disorder. ‘These similarities could very well be the reason that Batman has not, does not, and will not, kill the Joker’ (Arter, 35). I suppose I can see the connection.”

“And Batman ‘will constantly battle the agents of chaos in an eternal battle for Gotham’s soul’ (Dyer, “Batman and the Joker as the Apollo/ Dionysius Archetypes”). It’s as if he’s creating work for himself. The smart b*****d.”

“And we’ll be right there beside him,” proclaimed Gordon. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked around a few paces, slightly limping from the soreness in his hip.

Riggs pushed away from the desk, his smile vanished. “You ok, sir?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be fine. Just wondering where this damn ambulance is at. They shouldn’t be taking this long. Something isn’t right.”

Somewhere in the warehouse was the sound of a gunshot, or something like it. Both Riggs and Gordon drew their weapons once more. There was the clanking sound of a canister bouncing closer to the office. Right as Gordon saw the silver canister roll into the office doorway, he yelled.

“Take cover!”

Riggs dove behind the very desk he had been casually leaning against, now seeking its cover to preserve his life. Gordon dove on top of the lifeless victim to shield him from the blast. A loud bang muted the ear drums of both cops and filled the office with smoke. Riggs crawled out from behind the desk, trying desperately to aim his gun with a steady hand. Through the smoke he could see two bodies lying still on the ground. His shoulder hit the wall, and he slid across, making his way toward the downed commissioner, all the while hitting the photos and newspaper clippings to the ground.  He did not even realize that he was breathing in the toxic green gas that filled the room.

Gordon’s ears were ringing and his hip was throbbing. I could go for a cold margarita right about now, he thought to himself as he struggled to take his shirt off. Shrapnel from the canister peppered his back, and the shirt easily tore away. He took great effort to wrap the shirt around his face while staying beneath the toxic cloud of gas. Suddenly a hand gripped his arm. He pulled away quickly and grabbed for his gun, but realized that it was Deputy Riggs trying to help him up.

As the ringing began to leave both of their ears, the faint sound of hysterical laughing could be heard somewhere in the warehouse. Gordon struggled to get to his feet, and as the laughing became more clear in his ears, he knew that things were about to go from bad to worse.

Gordon turned to Deputy Riggs, “Take cover and call it in. We need all available units in the area here, NOW!” But Riggs was holding his mouth, stifling back laughter. It was then that Gordon knew. “Laughing gas,” he said under his breathe.

Riggs bent over and burst out into hysterical laughter. His gun dropped to the ground. No matter how hard he held his mouth with both hands, the laughter was too loud to be contained. He fell to the ground on his side and let the laughter fill the entire warehouse.

Gordon began to radio in for backup.

“All units respond, come in. This is Commissioner Gordon, I need immediate back-up at…”

“Well, hello Commissioner Gordon!” the voice came through on the other line. It was unmistakable. “Do you want to hear a joke?”

Gordon put the radio back on his belt and took to one knee. The gas was too much, and was making his eyes burn. When his knee hit the ground, the shockwave rippled up through his leg and into his hip. The pain made him drop his gun and grip for the nearby desk. His hip was locked and he could not stand. Just then, the Joker kicked open the office door, laughing hysterically with the bloodshot look of a maniac in his eyes.

“Never mind, HAHA, I’d rather just show you!”

The skin of his face had been peeled off the bone and poorly stitched back on. The buttons to his jacket were human teeth, and a long scar ran from ear to ear, forever leaving a menacing clown smile on a face half rotting from infection.

Gordon reached out for his gun, but the pain was too excruciating. The Joker sauntered over and kicked the gun over to Riggs, whose trembling body faced the wall, still convulsing from laughter.

“I don’t think your little boy wonder over there will be much help to you now, Commissioner.” The Joker danced with himself over to the victim laying under Gordons jacket. “Tell me, do you know what this man did to deserve to die, Commissioner?” He pulled out a long gun from his jacket and pointed it at the man’s head. “Nothing at all.” He cocked the hammer back on the pistol. “Bang!” he yelled.

Gordon flinched, overcome with the sense of protection for the man under his jacket.

“HAHAHAHA! No no no, I only have one bullet, and it isn’t for this young man, as much as he so desperately wants it.” He kicked the helpless man in the back, sending a jolt through his unconscious body. “No no, I wouldn’t have that. This bullet is for you, Commissioner. Or me. Or you or me or you…” he began prancing around Gordon and laughing. Gordon kept thinking about that damned margarita. Then the Joker stopped right in front of his face.

“Will you play a little Russian Roulette with me, Commissioner?” The stench from the rotting flesh on his face stung Gordon’s nose. The only thing that kept him from turning his head was the righteous sense of not backing down. “Oh, please say you will. It’d be a real shame if I had to filet your young friend over there on the chance that you said no.” The Joker slowly turned his gaze to the young Riggs now shivering with laughter on the ground. He chuckled before turning back to Gordon, this time with fresh blood coating his lips. “Perhaps I’ll just take a little slice while you make up your mind.”

The Joker stood up and holstered his long gun. From the other side of his jacket he took a long and rusty knife.

“Riggs…” Gordon tried to call him through the paralyzing pain. “Riggs!” But his voice could not be heard over the Joker’s humming.

The Joker jumped above Riggs, legs spread on either side of his convulsing body. “Now let’s see what THIS boy wonder is made out of. HAHAHA!”

Just as the tears were entering Gordon’s eyes, a loud beeping noise could be heard. The Joker shot up straight with a blank face. “Oh no. Is playtime over already?”

Just then the wall behind the Joker exploded outward and a large Bat shaped man flew through, kicking the Joker  and sending him flying against the outer wall of the office. He hit the wall with a loud crack, and the knife slid across the floor. Gordon opened his eyes again to see a black ball on the ground rise up to reveal Batman in all his glory.

“Batsy!” Yelled the Joker. He coughed, “You are very good at ruining my fun” he said through a look that turned from humorous to vicious in an instant. He pulled the long gun from his jacket, but Batman was on him in an instant. He threw the Joker against the back wall of the office, and before he could fall to the ground, Batman caught him by the collar.

“I should’ve dealt with you for good a long time ago,” Batman snarled in that growl of a voice.

“HAHAHA! Oh please, ‘you won’t kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness. And I won’t kill you because you’re just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever’ (Nolan, Dark Knight).”

Batman peeled the Joker away from the wall and slammed him back against it.

“Ohh, that tickled. HAHA! This is what happens when ‘an unstoppable force meets an immovable object’ (Nolan, Dark Knight). You can’t kill me, because I am too much like you. HAHA! Ohh yes, you won’t kill me because we need each other.” The Joker looked dead straight into Batman’s eyes, “You can call me, FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER” he proclaimed with his hands in the air, flared out as if for some great announcement.

“Shut up!” Batman growled, and slammed him up against the wall once more. The impact sent a shockwave through the wall, and a large painting fell from right above Gordon. The painting collided with the back of Gordon’s head and sent him flying to the ground. He could hear the hysterical laughing from the Joker, and just before he lost consciousness he thought about that cold Margarita on a beach somewhere.

 

 

 

Works Cited

Arter, Joshua D. "The Killing Joke: Why Batman Doesn't Kill the Joker." Cardinal Scholar Home. N.p., 01 May 2015. Web. 22 May 2017.

 

 

Asma, Stephen T. “Monsters and the Moral Imagination.” Monsters, edited by

                      Andrew J. Hoffman, Bedford St. Martin's, 2016, 61-66.

 

Decker, Kevin S. “Culture, Hermeneutics, and the Batman.” The Philosophy of Tim Burton, edited by Jennifer L. McMahon, University Press of Kentucky, 2014, pp. 131"150. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vkkxt.10.

 

Dyer, Jay. "Batman and the Joker as the Apollo/Dionysius Archetypes." Jay's Analysis. N.p., 02 Apr. 2011. Web. 26 May 2017.

 

McCormick, Patrick. “Why Modern Monsters Have Become Alien to Us.” Monsters, edited by Andrew J. Hoffman, Bedford St. Martin's, 2016, 266-273.

 

Peaslee, Robert M. Foreword. “Joker: A Serious Study of the Clown Prince of Crime.” Place of Publication Not Identified: Univ Pr Of Mississippi, 2016. N. pag. Print.

 

Shetty, Mithun. "The Batman/ Joker Dynamic." Augmenting Realities. Duke University, n.d. Web. 25 May 2017.

 

 The Dark Knight. Dir. Christopher Nolan. Perf. Christian Bale and Heath Ledger. Warner Brothers, 2008. DVD.

 

Tithecott, Richard. “The Horror in the Mirror Average Joe and the Mechanical Monster.” Monsters, edited by Andrew J. Hoffman, Bedford St. Martin's, 2016, 300-306.

Author's Note

This is a Fan-Fiction piece that I did to showcase how The Joker is Batman's Monster. It was the final paper in my College Writing Class (it got an A, so you know it's good stuff). Those who are familiar with Batman might enjoy the long story. It reads fast.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' .. ‘both Batman and the Joker carry out their respective missions to the extreme, never stopping. Neither will ever give up; both are determined to make a lasting impact and difference, leaving behind a legacy no one will ever forget.’

I'm not a Batman fan, not into this kind of fiction; not someone who's into fantasy dramas; don't need detailed gory comings or goings; as for the generic history and the reference points.. well, not interested at all.

SOOO.. why did i read this start to finish!? Might surprise you to know that i found this story exciting, interesting, well written and actually very worthy of a great many more reads! .