The Sons of Batman
Almost from the beginning of his publication, Batman has had a Robin. A sidekick, a partner. Someone to knock heads with on the streets. Over the years, the various characters that have inhabited the “Robin” persona have come to develop a familial relationship with Batman. A sort of father-son bond between Bruce Wayne and the various (read: 4) people to wear the “R”. Let’s take a look at the various forms that bond has taken.
We start, naturally, with the oldest. The first son. My personal favorite. Richard John “Dick” Grayson. Dick was the first Robin, introduced way back in 1940 in Detective Comics #38, and for better (and sometimes worse; we’ll get to that), he is the standard by which every future Robin has been judged. His origin is pretty well-known, but for those who don’t, the CliffsNotes version is that Dick was a circus kid whose parents were murdered in front of him at the tender age of nine. After that incident, he was taken in by Bruce Wayne, and then eventually trained until he was deemed good enough to accompany Bruce on his nighttime endeavors (Batman: Dark Victory has all the details. Read it).
Dick’s relationship with Bruce, and his time as Robin, bear all the hallmarks of that of a firstborn child with a first-time father. Of all his sons, Dick is perhaps the one that is most like Bruce (in character, if not actual mannerisms). Dick ran afoul of Batman’s rules quite a bit, culminating in him leaving and rechristening himself “Nightwing”. Eventually, once the separation holds, Bruce can see him not as a kid or an extension of himself (which, let’s be honest, that’s what Robin is), but as a separate, entirely capable adult. There’s respect, not the one-sided adoration that comes with being a kid, but genuine respect that goes both ways. Dick is basically the default choice to wear the Bat-suit if Bruce can’t for any reason (say for instance, death), a clear sign of the immense level of trust and respect that Bruce has for Dick, his skills, and his character as a person (and superhero).
Next up, we have the rebellious one. The “Black Sheep” of the Wayne clan (if such a clan can have a black sheep). The bad boy with guns and crowbars. I am of course talking about Jason Peter Todd. After Dick grows up and “moves out of his dad’s place”, Bruce is left without a Robin. What does he do? Well, he keeps trucking on. After all, he was doing this before some brightly colored kid started following him on rooftops, he’ll just go back to being a solo act. He didn’t count on Jason Todd. Batman met Jason attempting to steal the tires off the Batmobile in Crime Alley (yes, the same one). For some reason, maybe he saw something behind the desperation in trying to boost the wheels of the Batmobile, or maybe just feeling emotional being in Crime Alley, Batman didn’t beat the kid up. Instead, he offered him food, and took him in. A literal stray off the street (maybe he and Selina aren’t so different).
Jason suffered from what I’m calling “Second Son Syndrome.” This is a condition that occurs to the second-born in a family where they are constantly compared to their older sibling and their actions are judged by their parents through the lens of their older sibling’s actions. Jason Todd was not Dick Grayson, but Batman severely wanted him to be. He dressed him in the same uniform as Dick (yes, even the short shorts) and in a way, perhaps unconsciously, tried to recreate Dick. All the constant comparisons and the holding up of this unattainable ideal ignited a self-destructive streak. Reckless decisions (he was always a hothead) piled up, culminating in one of the most tragic moments in comic book history, the death of Jason Todd at the hands of the Joker. Jason, and his rebirth as the Red Hood represented Bruce’s greatest failure as both a superhero and a father, and this is something that they have both had to work through together as they’ve mended their relationship.
Third in the batting order is the computer genius. The detective. The circus fan. Timothy Jackson “Tim” Drake. Unlike every other Robin (and most other members of the Batfamily), Tim’s intro to the world of vigilante crimefighting did not involve the standard personal trauma. That would come later. So, how does a relatively well-adjusted kid (with two living parents) end up wearing the spandex and domino mask? Short answer: he asked. Long answer: he deduced the identities of both Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson (being a huge fan of the Flying Graysons), tracked Bruce’s increasing recklessness post-Jason (since he noticed that he wasn’t going with a Robin anymore) and hypothesized that Batman always needs a Robin to rein him in and generally be a good influence (read A Lonely Place of Dying if you want the full story).
Tim has had an interesting run as a Robin. From having it be like an after-school job where he has his own life outside of Gotham’s madness, to his parents dying and him being “fully integrated” into the life. Bruce (as Batman) goes into full helicopter parent mode whenever Tim stepped out as Robin (losing one will do that to you), but eventually, as with all things, he learns to trust that he has trained his son well enough for him to be able to handle himself. Tim sees Robin as its own thing, and he has made it so. Not simply an extension of Batman’s persona, but a fully realized character. He’s content (for lack of a better word) with being Robin, and after a brief foray as Red Robin, he’s back in the classic threads.
Last, but certainly not least, there’s the assassin. The Blood Son. Heir to the Demon. Damian Wayne. Trained by his mother Talia to be the perfect killer from the moment he could walk, Damian introduced himself to his father with Man-Bats and a sword at his throat (not kidding, go read Son of Batman). Unfortunately, Bruce dies shortly after this and when Damian becomes Robin, it’s to Dick Grayson as Batman. Eventually, Bruce does come back and with Tim Drake hopping rooftops as Red Robin, Batman begins the journey of raising and training his son.
Normal 10-year-old children are a handful for any person, especially if they’re the last-born. Imagine then that the kid grew up being told that he was a gift to mankind, meant to unite two great bloodlines (like it’s the freaking Middle Ages). Oh, and they’ve been trained in various means of murder since they could walk and hold a weapon. That was Damian Wayne. Bruce would have to discover if there was any humanity in the perfect killing machine left for him by his assassin ex-girlfriend. The work (and it was work) was long and challenging. Bruce insisting on restraint in the field, Damian interpreting this as a lack of trust in him and his abilities. Perhaps the hardest part of Damian’s training/upbringing was an acceptance, by both him and his father, that he is not defined by what he was or who he was trained to be, but by who he chooses to be. That he can choose to be a hero. We get to see Bruce and Damian evolve in their relationship from merely two people in silly costumes running around at night to a loving father and his son.
The evolution of both sides of Batman, the man and the superhero, can be tracked through his handling of the relationships and dynamics between him and his sons. It shows us an emotional, human side to Bruce that adds a compelling aspect to his narrative.
