It is so interesting to consider different people's "takes" on Lois and Clark. Different people "read" Lois and Clark very differently.
Since Sue's latest chapter was Clark-centered, let's consider portraits of Clark. Basically, Clark comes in two major "flavors" on these boards. There is angelically good Clark, and there is "trying-hard-to-be-very-good-but-not-always-succeeding" Clark.
Sue's Clark is the flawed kind. This Clark is the most interesting.
Angelically good Clark never makes a morally questionable choice. He always and pretty much automatically does the right thing, and he never gives in to temptation. Bad things may still happen because other people do the wrong thing, or because Clark doesn't have divine powers so that he can't, for example, deal with two disasters at the same time. When bad things happen even though it wasn't, of course, his fault, this Clark will nevertheless obsess and blame himself for what wasn't his fault, because this Clark holds himself up to truly divinely high standards.
Sue's Clark, on the other hand, is a flawed human being (or a flawed Kryptonian - same thing). He really and truly
wants to do the right thing, but doing the right thing doesn't come automatically to him. He is not immune to temptation. When it comes to things like not telling Lois his secret, this Clark doesn't have a good solid moral reason not to tell Lois, as angelically good Clark would have. This Clark delights in being both Lois's unattainable demigod hero and her good old down-to-Earth work partner. And he is truly terrified of losing everything with her if he tells her. So Clark gave in to temptation in the worst possible way, by ignoring what was actually Lois's call for help:
Clark paused in the alley and tilted his head.
Nothing.
He was imagining it; that was all. If Lois was saying his name right now, it definitely wouldn't be so mild. By now - if she was still here at all - she was most likely using his name as part of an expletive.
Back inside the bar, a quick scan proved him right. Lois had repaid his long absence by ditching him. Clark let out a frustrated sigh and grimaced. He had promised himself that tonight - no matter what - he was going to tell Lois the truth. It seemed somehow ironic that the truth was probably the last explanation left to him now; the only excuse he hadn't given her.
In the distance Clark could hear the urgent wail of sirens. His shoulders slumped in resignation. It wasn't going to happen tonight. He'd have to grovel for forgiveness first thing tomorrow morning. And then - no matter what - he'd tell Lois where he went and why.
The way I read this, Clark was so terrified of telling Lois his secret that he was looking for any sort of excuse not to have to do it. He heard Lois's voice - well, it must be his imagination, because he was already imaging her wrath after he has told her his secret, so it just didn't seem possible that she would whisper his name so softly right now. And besides, there were sirens going off in the distance, so clearly he was needed somewhere else right now, wasn't he?
Afterwards, when Lois is gone, Clark even admits to himself that he hadn't looked for Lois when he heard her whisper his name because he was trying to postpone the moment when he would have to tell her his secret:
Why, why, why hadn't he checked last night before assuming that she had given up on him? Why hadn't it occurred to him that her car keys were still in his pocket? Because, he tortured himself, you were secretly glad for the reprieve from telling her your secret.
Of course, when Clark made the fateful decision not to take Lois's soft call for him seriously, he didn't admit to himself that he was trying to postpone the inevitable. I think he really did manage to tell himself that he was doing the right thing. It wasn't as if he knew, or truly acknowledged, that he was putting Lois in danger by ignoring her. He was just relieved that he would have a few more hours or days before he had to tell her his secret.
It was Shakespeare who said something to the effect that every human being is a whole world of discordant wills. Each of us is full of a cacophony of disagreeing voices. Which voice is shouting the loudest? Which voice do I listen to right now? And which voice do I listen to in a few hours?
The fact that Sue's Clark is flawed comes down to this particular thing, I believe, that he is governed not by a single, morally strong and dead-certain conviction. Instead, Sue's Clark really is full of discordant voices. He wants to do the right thing, but it isn't always clear what the right thing truly is - and sometimes it is so tempting to listen to the voice that finds a good reason for him not to do something morally right but emotionally unpleasant right now.
Clark wanted to beg her to stay. Another ten minutes, twenty tops, and he'd be able to find the words to tell her the secret that stood between them. But then there would be the recriminations and neither of them would get any sleep. It was better, tonight at least, to let her go. He kissed her again and it felt bittersweet because he feared it might be their last.
Yes, it was better to let her go without telling her tonight, because you shouldn't do tonight what you can postpone until tomorrow. At least if it is unpleasant.
This Clark is prepared to do other questionable things too, like paying money to criminals and selling Superman's secret in order to get Lois back. Not because he doesn't realize that it is a crazy thing to do, but because he is so desperate to get Lois back.
A fantastic thing about Sue's portrait of flawed Clark is that we can see how his emotional and moral struggles affect him so strongly in a purely physical way. This Clark isn't deadpan, and he surely isn't a cardboard cutout:
His knee began to bounce even faster, setting the Jeep to rocking slightly. What in the world was up with him? It was way too early in the morning to be this anxious, especially for Clark, who was usually maddeningly calm. Even his words were jumpy. "No. I mean, yes. I'm going to Kansas. I just thought that, maybe, uh, you'd like to come with me?"
Clark is trying to work up the courage not only to invite Lois to come to Kansas with him, but to tell her that he can actually fly her there, courtesy of Superman Express. He couldn't bring himself to say it, though. I thought the rapidly bouncing knee was a wonderfully telling detail about his nervousness.
I think Sue's fantastic portrait of flawed Clark is a reminder of what Superman could be, at best, if he really existed. We all have that cacophony of voices in our heads. Superman would too. With a man as supremely powerful as him, it would of course be overwhelmingly important which voice he chose to listen too.
Sue has shown us a fantastically moving superpowered Clark Kent who wants to do the right thing, who tries to do the right thing, but who isn't always able to do the right thing. Because we humans simply aren't able to do the right thing all the time. But, like Clark Kent, we can come back and try to rectify our mistakes, over and over.
Ann
