Even the Teen Titans were at best a Junior version of the JLA and their very existence a reminder of their older, more powerful counterparts. But the LSH was IT...the best and the brightest of their era. And part of maintaining that prestige was giving them formidable, serious, often terrifyingly lethal opponents. While the Titans were trying to close the generation gap in Hatton Corners, the Legion was battling the Sun Eater to decide the fate of the solar system.
Interesting observation; the Legion were really big-shots that got all the plum missions. Actually in terms of raw power and superior numbers, the Legion may be the most powerful team in the history of comics.
There's a tendency to see the Legion as an extension of the Kirby/Simon "Kid Gang" concept, and if this was ever true (and I don't think it was), it was only very, very early on in the Ed Hamilton days: when the Legion they solved the theft of the Quintile Crystal that powers Metropolis's fusion powersphere...from there on they were officially big shots with official approval. The Legion certainly had a phenomenal amount of prestige and gravitas: during the Sun-Eater story, it was revealed that they were entrusted with the Key to the entire UP fleet's defenses, and we learn in another story that the Legion's fleet of cruisers have A-1 priority in any spaceport in the galaxy. People are always trying to join the Legion...and why not? It's a ticket to prestige and adventure.
The Legion was for me like the real-life Foreign Legion...an outfit to join when you're seeking exotic adventure, but one where you're likely as not to end up massacred.
Ha ha ha! Interesting point. Boy, it sure felt that way: the fact that bad things happened to the characters was not only something that could happen, but DID.
I think this is a key to the Legion's popularity. Much has been made of the teen romance angle and whatnot, but this was a book that made a bunch of young people into the most respected, powerful heroes of their universe, and that's pretty empowering to young readers.
Interesting, and I agree entirely.
That's a factor that's been extremely overrated, I think, because the only time that the Legionnaires were explicitly TEENS was during the Shooter years when they fought terminally unhip mind-controlled grownups.
There's a belief I just don't agree with at all: because characters start out at a certain age, they should remain in that certain age forever. I for one think arresting the development of a character is a terrible idea because they should be allowed to develop and change, and this is exciting to watch unfold "on camera."
One of the most illegitimate complaints in the world is people whining because Spider-Man is now in his thirties and so on when "he should" be a young college or high school kid. Just because Spider-Man started out a high school kid does not necessarily mean he should remain that way. Nor does it even mean the character's identity is compromised: if my sister got married and pregnant, she doesn't stop being my sister.
A friend of mine once argued that the fact that the Legionnaires and X-Men and Teen Titans, as well as characters like Supergirl, the Vision, and Hawkeye, developed before our eyes, really is a credit not just to the writers but also to something that really rewards long-term and fan readers: watching characters gradually grow and change.
The Avengers and the Justice League never really got any older, but we watched the X-Men and Legionnaires grow up.
This brings me to my next point:
The question attempts to give a weight to American comics they don't deserve.
Anyone who dies can come back anytime. Most have.
Perhaps this is true for some characters and books, but it is misunderstanding a few things that are unique to the Legion, X-Men, and Teen Titans, and the reason they have such a strong fandom: the idea that because their lives are four-dimensional and change and are REAL, in other words, the reader understands the permanence of something like a pregnancy...or a death.
This is why something like the return of Jean Gray...even though the explanation was very interesting...was the story that provoked more collective outrage and anger than any other I have ever seen, INCLUDING Emerald Twilight. I've talked to people that have refused to even read Marvel comics again because they brought back Marvel Girl. The reason this story pissed so many people off is because it violated a part of what made reading X-Men up until that point so unique: that anything could happen, and as a consequence of that, they would not find some cheesy way to go back to the status quo.
(On a side note, I must say, I have always been fervently against the Superman marriage, but Busiek and Johns have changed my mind on the entire topic because of how warm and interesting in recent times they have made it, not devolving into absurd cliches like Lois wondering if - of all people - SUPERMAN might be unfaithful. Busiek and Johns have made the marriage work and I'm all in favor of it. Spider-Man should be allowed to get older, and Superman should be allowed to get married: it would be leaving him a batchelor indefinitely that would be unfair to the character.)
Apart from anomalies (usually Marvel, as in "Captain Marvel") the American comic creators can't do "death" and should just steer clear of the subject.
I don't agree...while there have been lots of pointless shock value deaths, there are enough good examples that I can see the merit in death as a part of drama in a superhero book. The all-time best example would be GIANT SIZED AVENGERS #2 (1974) by Steve Englehart, featuring the death of the Swordsman. He was a loser that never caught a break, and finally he jumped in the path of a ray gun blast meant for a woman that didn't love him and rejected him.
His last words were "I'm just one of those guys that just...doesn't count."
The last panel ended with the Avengers carrying his body mournfully and saying "Every Avenger counts, Swordsman. Every one."
Further proof that Englehart was one of the most influential comics writers, there was a similar death during (I believe) the Gruenwald CAPTAIN AMERICA, where the Porcupine, a small-time enemy, trips and falls on his quills. Captain America gets to him. "It's too late, Cap...I was born a loser and now I'll die a loser too."
Cap grins and says, "No, you won't die one, I swear it."
Later, we see the Porcupine's statue, built by Captain America. It says: HERE LIES THE PORCUPINE: HONORED FOE OF THE AVENGERS.
The type of comic Americans do incredibly well is the old Superman format: a limited cast of characters who have a new adventure every month, who never age, who never get sick (for long), who never evolve very much... The central cast merely finishes one adventure this week, and starts a new adventure next week.
I don't know about that at all. As much as I loved the great Steve Gerber's seventies run on METAL MEN and their battles against Chemo and the Plutonium Man, what kept me reading the book were the recurring subplots, because I wanted to see what happens in the lives of the characters, whom I like: Platinum's sexually aggressive new personality, Will Magnus recovering from madness, the Metal Men finding jobs despite being robots...