Friday, September 16, 2011

From the "Join the Joker" Sweepstakes, Part III, Essay Section: "An Agent of Change"

Applicant Name: ____________
A posting of an applicant’s response to the following prompt:
What values qualify you to join the Joker’s team? In what way do the Joker’s ideas relate to your own experience? Illustrate your beliefs with appropriate context or examples.


Growing up in a working-class Gotham family is hard. My father worked. My mother worked. They’re both gone now. I don’t know how I could have coped with anything if it weren’t for Arkham. They teach me here. Sometimes they have us read. Take Anton Chekhov, for instance. “A Doctor’s Visit.” When I first read it, I thought that this Chekhov must have come from Gotham just like me. I immediately felt like he understood. It is very much the story of a young man who, like me, wants to understand the perplexing situations that he finds himself in. He is a doctor and I am just a young working man, but eventually we both uncover the same horrible truth. Korolyov strives to understand the cycle that smothers both the privileged and the powerless alike. You know what I mean, of course, Mr. Joker.

It’s all about the devil, as Korolyov says. It’s all about the factory and its crimson eyes, which are a part of the system. Sitting on that heap of wood, amongst all that raw material—the burden of us working people—don’t you think someone else could have come to his same conclusion? Christina Dmitryevna, with her pince-nez, is nothing, as Korolyov realizes. All of this work is done to the detriment of the working and the leisure classes alike. It is a cycle of death--dirty and ugly and silent death. In the same way, Gotham is a city of self-perpetuating filth. Its order is nothing, really, but a figurehead sustained for its own vanity, just like Dmitryevna.

But wait! Let me go back. I know that you will see my meaning, Mr. Joker, if you look at the text of the story. It even begins with this distant figure, “the Professor,” an upper-class educated sort of man, disregarding a telegram from the Lyalikov’s factory. He sends his assistant Korolyov to respond to the call, and the reader never hears from him again. And the assistant can barely even stand to stay one night at the factory; he is utterly repulsed by it. In short, Chekhov begins with a separation of class, of the problems of one world from another. That’s where it starts for me, too. Do you think Bruce Wayne ever spares a thought about the problems of the likes of me? And yet we toil in the streets. We built Gotham. The workpeople Korolyov meets on the road built his world, but they are tired, even at his arrival, even of that which is new. How does no one see? This is a story for all of Gotham’s forgotten youth.

Maybe that’s why the story relates to me so intimately. Maybe it is this sense of tiredness, of exhaustion really, with the false and unfair order of things, where we all work for faceless powers we don’t know, idols of deceit who are never made any happier by the profits.  Or maybe it is Liza herself, who reminds me of that someone. I want to hate her, but I can’t help but think that she is wishing for something that is similar, fundamentally, to what I want for Gotham. She looks to the outside for change. We need an upheaval, but it won’t come from the complacent rich or the powerless poor beneath them. We need a catalyst that will break down the demoniacal order.
Liza’s mistake is that she hopes Korolyov will be the catalyst. His happiness is of intuition, perhaps of understanding, but not of action. My mistake will not be the same. You see, Mr. Joker, I am willing to gamble on bigger things than Liza is. I am willing to join you in becoming the change Gotham needs. Do you see the resemblance now? “A Doctor’s Visit” to Gotham, I hope, is in order. Hand me the leech.


Application status: accepted

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