I've written several times on this blog about self-loathing and feelings of inadequacy (see the bottom of this post for links), but a recent comment from a reader reminded me that superheroes, one of my other passions, often suffer from this too. By looking at two popular superheroes, Green Arrow and Daredevil, we'll see different forms self-loathing can take, which may help nonsuperheroes like us think about our own feelings of inadequacy.
First, take
Green Arrow: Oliver Queen, the dashing archer who protects Star City. Traditionally a member of the Justice League of America, Arrow sometimes partners up with Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) to fight crime and tackle social injustice (as they did in the classic 1970s run by Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams,
collected here
). He's been romantically involved with (and briefly married to) fellow hero Black Canary, and has been a father (literally or figuratively) to young heroes like Arsenal, Speedy, and Connor Hawke (his biological son and successor as Green Arrow when Ollie was dead—he got better, thanks to Hal Jordan, who was also dead at the time... ah, forget it). A formerly wealthy social crusader with a weakness for women and a knack for making great chili, Ollie currently finds himself protecting the star-shaped enchanted forest that has grown in the middle of Star City after it was destroyed by the villain Prometheus in the
Justice League of America: Cry for Justice
mini-series.
In a recent issue of his own series (Green Arrow #7, February 2011), he faced the mysterious Lady of the Forest. At one point during an atypically deep discussion, the Lady said to Ollie, "Even you have some faith. In people if nothing else," to which Ollie replied, "People can fail. Disappoint." The Lady responded, insightfully, "And yet, you only seem to hold that view of yourself." Ollie said, "Maybe I'm just beating them to the punch," to which the Lady said, "Or maybe you feel you don't deserve such people in your life."
The last two lines in particular point to self-loathing on Ollie's part, feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness which he projects onto other people; if he doesn't think he's good enough, he assumes other people feel the same way about him ("maybe I'm just beating them to the punch"). His self-loathing is based on lack of confidence, doubts about his skills (and how he uses them), his purpose in life, and his own character, all reinforced by his failings, especially his recent ones. Since the destruction of Star City, in which his ward Roy Harper's young daughter Lian was killed, he ritually executed Prometheus, the villain responsible. He was soon acquitted in a court of law, but he lost the respect of his fellow heroes (who, including Green Lantern, had crossed similar ethical lines themselves in the Cry for Justice series, discussed in several chapters in the upcoming Green Lantern and Philosophy). In Ollie's mind, much of what he had done in his life, especially recently, went wrong, and as a result he started to doubt himself: his skills, his judgment, and himself as a person, hero, and husband.

Then take
Daredevil: blinded as a boy but left with enhanced senses, Matt Murdock fights for the downtrodden of New York's Hell's Kitchen as a passionate lawyer in the courtroom and as the acrobatic martial arts expert Daredevil at night. Abandoned by his mother at a young age, Matt was raised by his father, an
aging boxer, who urged Matt to study and make his way in life with his
brain rather than his brawn. But after the elder Murdock is murdered by mobsters after refusing to throw a fight in front of his son, Matt swears to fight injustice both as an attorney and as the superhero Daredevil.
Originally written as a swashbuckling, light-hearted adventurer, Frank Miller (who went on to write seminal comics and graphic novels such as The Dark Knight Returns, 300, and Sin City) retooled Daredevil in the 1980s as a tortured soul who faced a gauntlet of tragedies. It was Miller who introduced the character of Elektra, Matt's first and greeatest love, who later became an assassin and was killed by Daredevil's enemy Bullseye. Later, in the classic Daredevil: Born Again
, another of Daredevil's enemies, the Kingpin, discovers his real identity and proceeds to destroys Murdock's life piece by piece, breaking him down and forcing him to build himself back up, stronger and more determined than ever. Since then, Murdock has been broken time and time again, having seen his other great love, Karen Page, killed (again by Bullseye), having his secret identity revealed, and thinking that his legal partner and best friend Foggy Nelson was killed while Murdock was in prison.
In the recent Shadowland
mini-series, written by Andy Diggle, Daredevil assumes control of the evil organization called the Hand (whom Elektra had once led), only to be possessed by the Beast of the Hand and forced to fight his friends and allies. Oh, and along the way, he also ritually executed Bullseye. (Yes, there's a theme here.) At the end of that series, once freed from the control of the Beast, Matt disappears without a trace, leaving his costume in shreds behind him, and leaves New York City on a "hero's quest" of sorts. In the current miniseries Daredevil: Reborn (also written by Diggle), Matt Murdock finds himself in New Mexico, and just like Jessica Fletcher in Murder, She Wrote, wherever Murdock goes, bad things happen. (Of course, we wouldn't want to read the stories otherwise, right?)

In New Mexico, Matt happens upon a guns-for-drugs deal, which he proceeds to bust up as only Matt can, in classic Daredevil style (though out of costume). After Matt rigs the truck full of weapons to drive into a lake, the enigmatic leader of the operation appears: the Calavera. He asks Matt why he is interfering, given that there is little chance of escape, and Matt simply responds, "Don't think I had a choice. Those guns would be used to kill innocent people. I thought I could turn my back, walk away, but... I guess that's just not who I am."
The Calavera, however, is not impressed. "Such vanity," he says, "the nobility of heroic self-sacrifice appeals to your ego," implying that heroism is not altruistic or a matter of duty or virtue for Matt, but simply a way to satisfy his own desires for self-validation (however noble these desires may be). "But," he continues, "I think you are lying to yourself. Answering a deeper need," hinting at something more pathological.