According to the 1976 DC Calendar, April 8th is the birthday of Batman’s gentleman’s gentleman and, for the last forty years, father figure Alfred Pennyworth!
I love Alfred. I first met him via re-runs of the 1966 television series, so, to me, he’s been part of things from the start. This wasn’t the case in the comics. He didn’t come along until Batman #16 (April-May 1943) and he wasn’t the dapper proper gentleman he would eventually become. He was a heavyset, wannabe detective. Eventually he lost some weight and became a regular supporting character.
Then, in 1964, editor Julius Schwartz and crew killed him off. It was a sudden thing, but it also proved temporary. Soon after his death a mysterious new villain named The Outsider appeared and eventually it was revealed that he was Alfred. Turns out a scientist found Alfred and was able to revive him from his death like trance.
Because comics.
In 1986, Frank Miller had Alfred with Bruce from the very beginning. Literally. It was one of those changes that was simple and yet changed the dynamic between Alfred and Bruce completely. Now, Alfred was the man that helped raise Bruce after the death of his parents. It made him more than just the guy that cleans up the Batcave and occasionally gives some sage advice. He was someone that could call Bruce on his crap.
Another Miller addition, this one from Dark Knight Returns, was to give Alfred a snarky and sometimes dark sense of humor. Some writers can over egg this pudding. The better ones make the digs funny but pointed. He quit on more than one occasion when he felt Bruce had gone too far but always ended up coming back. My “favorite” example of this was during Knightsquest. His absence in the books was acutely felt until his return.
Now he’s dead. Which was a stupid decision. Killing Alfred adds nothing to Batman’s character. I know that Matt Fraction is playing with this a bit, but it was such a boneheaded creative choice. It takes away a dynamic that, to me, is essential to a great Batman story.
He’ll probably be back. Until then I can sulk. And wish him a happy birthday.
More to follow…
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