Why the Marvel calendar's days are numbered

In daily life, my nerdiness is pretty evident.

This is especially true at work. Green Lantern pins are piled up at the feet of a Monitor figure like aluminum tribute. Spider-Man sits on top of Yoda's oversized head beneath my completed Human Fly checklist. And on my wall is the new Marvel calendar, which is really kind of nice for a freebie.

And which will be coming down again in February because I don't want to get written up.

The place where I work is informal for an office setting and I'm certainly not a prude, but the image of Ms. Marvel that is waiting to slide out from between January and March just won't fly. It is, in the language of management-types the world over, “inappropriate for the office.”

And that's a shame, because I like to think of myself as an evangelist for comics. I preach the four-color Word to anyone who'll listen. But how do I justify a Ms. Marvel who looks more like Ms. February? How do I explain that this woman who is floating on her back, arms splayed in welcome and with a sleepy, lips-parted-just-so look on her face, is a superhero? A superhero who apparently fights evil in a thong and half-shirt?

There's a thin line between sensual and sexual, between sexuality and sexualized. When I was flipping through the calendar (given away free last week at comic book stores), I had a sudden urge to apologize to someone, to explain that Ms. Marvel is generally a strong character. That she served as an officer in the Air Force. That this is a depiction of her original costume, with a misguided design reflecting her mid-70s roots.

But mostly I keep thinking, “The women in my office — especially my boss — would have a shit if I put this up.” And rightfully so.

Besides the blatant sexism, I'm also bugged by the apparent pandering of Marvel to the stereotypical, drooling fanboy mentality. The only other female character to make the calendar is March's Marvel Girl, who fares a little better than Ms. Marvel but still looks as if she's re-enacting the subway grate scene from The Seven Year Itch. (By the way, Jean, nice rack.) To be fair, Sub-Mariner is wearing even less than either of the Marvels in September, but I'd argue that his depiction lacks the sense of vulnerability of the other two. Again, there may be sexuality, but Sub-Mariner is not sexualized.

(And for the record, Wolverine's November picture made my wife laugh and laugh. You can come to your own conclusions why.)

There is always talk about how superhero comics need to grow up, or that they already have by upping the body counts and spraying blood across everything in the scene. But that's not growing up; that's what kids think growing up means. Growing up means maturity. And when I can't put a freely distributed superhero calendar up in my office for a month because it comes across as sexist stroke material, that tells me the industry still has some growing up to do.