A Cartwheel of Contradictions: Who Is Harley Quinn? Part Two "The Loneliest Number"

Second in the series of meta-articles I and some friends began last month, exploring the psyche, persona and nature of everyone's favourite henchwench, Harley Quinn!

A Cartwheel of Contradictions: Who Is Harley Quinn?

Part Two: The Loneliest Number

Co-Authored by:
lovedatjoker
zhinxy
itllcometome
benicio127

Harley's appeal as a character has an obvious effect on the audience: we want to see more of her.

The combining elements that create a fan-favourite include their resonance and charm, their motivations, appearance, performance and, not infrequently, how often they appear. A charming, compelling character we get only occasional tastes of is more likely to increase our desire to see that character. This is very true of Harley's history.

In the beginning, Harley did not appear in every episode or comic that featured the Joker. But the times she did appear she whole-heartedly captured the attention of not just the audience, but the creators as well. And so it came to be that, not only was it a rare event for there to be a Joker appearance without her alongside – she began to appear alongside other characters as well.

Eventually, she made her solo debut.

Long before then, the comic Mad Love had been released, as too had the episode Harley & Ivy, and Harley's legendary status had been fully cemented. To this day, these are two of Harley's absolute top appearances and it is worthwhile noting that an enormous part of their success has to do with how Harley engages with her co-stars; the Joker and Poison Ivy. This element is crucial, for it is in this that we come to understand exactly how Harley functions as a character – indeed, what makes her so special as a character.

Excepting her comic book series, Harley's solo appearances are rare, and with good reason. Despite the charm of the occasional Harley's Holiday or Masks of Love, Harley functions best as the perennial “number two”.

Given how beloved the character is, there is often a knee-jerk reaction to this idea: No! Harley can be a solo character! She can hold up a story by herself!

Yes. She can. She very definitely can. There have been some positively charming, hilarious and even deliciously creepy stories told with Harley as the solo lead. There's absolutely no question there. And there's absolutely no argument that she should continue to get the occasional solo story, all about her.

But, it's really not what she's best at.


The reason for this is simple, in a very pure sense: she was never designed with the intention of being a solo character. She was always created to work alongside somebody and the fact she developed as a character in her own right was nothing more than happy accident. However, even the way she developed elaborated on her features as a henchgirl rather than a solo player.

In keeping with this, the developed attributes of her character reflect this destined role: she's serving and submissive, adoring and loyal and loves to be told what to do. She almost never has an individual motive or purpose in mind – she's happy to play follow the leader and when not given something to do, becomes preoccupied with idle and self-indulgent tasks rather than grand schemes and objectives. She makes her personality and uniqueness very much felt in this role, regardless of who it is aimed towards; it's not as though the force of her own identity is suppressed. If anything, it's best exemplified in the adorable quirks and foibles she displays as she follows her orders.

Negative reactions to this are often conflated with resistence to her abusive relationship with the Joker and dressed up as intentions of empowerment. There is a degree of intellectual dishonesty inherent to this argument because it largely ignores archetypal character purpose and intent, which is divorced from issues of gender roles. Forget false sentiments of equality: Harley functions best as number two despite the gender of the person she's working alongside. Harley is the goof with disguised cunning and she is most gloriously exemplified when she has her “straight man” to play off – whether Ivy, Batman, Athena, Holly, the entirety of the Secret Six, Batgirl or YES, the Joker.

It is not sexism or misogyny to be true to the essence of what a character is, to depict her in the way that best does her justice. Yes, it can be given a sexist or misogynistic spin, but it's not inherently so.

All characters have their limitations and good depiction of them acknowledges these limitations. Even Harley's creators will concede: she can not hold up a solo career indefinitely. It's very important to note that Harley's soaring popularity was due to her depiction within the animated universe; a universe in which she appeared truly solo a total of two times. To a one, the DCAU team handed her magnificently, not just as a character but as a character who was exemplary in tandem with another.
It's vital to realise that fan love of her was cultivated through watching her engage and interact with other characters – of playing the back-up and the henchgirl to them – and of how brightly she shines in that role.

The fan-cry was for more Harley, without thinking about whether or not that would really be a good thing for Harley. DC Comics took note of this reaction and this love, but without truly understanding what was motivating it they took advantage and gave her her own series. At that stage, they didn't really understand what the character is, all they knew was the audience wanted her – and so they capitalised on it by making her a solo lead – a role which she was never intended for and could not work in.

The reason that series ultimately failed and alienated a high percentage of her fans was because most of the ensuing storylines, veering between wildly out-of-character and sheer contrivance, were desperate attempts to make her a protagonist when she simply isn't one. Other storylines featured her bouncing from person to person, trying to find a replication of the endearing and splendid dynamic she has with the Joker, to resounding failure.
The notion of giving Harley an entirely solo series was a flawed one from the beginning. Irrespective of what creative team took her on, it was always going to be a short-term money making ploy. As that, it very much worked but ultimately it was detrimental to Harley as a character, testified when she more or less disappeared altogether for a number of years after its finish.

That's the penalty for exploiting the popularity of a character without understanding why that character is truly popular: over-saturation and misuse lead to audience antagonism and a general burnout of the character which further convinces many that she simply doesn't work. If Harley were less popular, she may have gone the way of the dodo. Thankfully she is still much beloved and so they are trying again, still confused and still fumbling but slowly beginning to head back onto the right path, though not without cries that she must be taken in an all new direction if she is going to stand the test of time.

In truth, a return to the tried and true is really all that's required. And, whilst its subtle – this is precisely what has happened. Holly herself says to Harley: “the only thing that's changed about you is your outfit and the object of your sycophancy”. She happily took the job Athena offered her and it's not unreasonable to imagine she was offered it for a reason – how well she'd served others in the past.

Harley actually seeks out people to serve. She is number two whenever she can be. It's what she wants to do.

But not without provisos – she ditches Athena when she found out she wasn't getting what she bargained for; likewise she abandons the Secret Six. Her back-ups of Batman and Batgirl always came with strings attached. Harley, in her role as the perennial henchgirl, is far from being without agency. In fact, she most has agency when she's backing others up. It's when we see her at her best and most purposeful. It's when she is most entertaining, most charming, most endearing and most relatable. She enjoys being the support because she's exemplary at it. She gets things done. And she makes real choices about her servitude – if it doesn't go her way, she walks.

The theme of loneliness is an overriding one whenever she appears solo. As clumsy and fumbling as her series was, they at least conceived a hell for Harley that rang true: solitude.

The simple fact is this: when Harley is separated from the Joker, she goes in search of someone else to "kow-tow" to. But it never lasts very long. Indeed, it always has the edge of a fling briefly indulged in, then discarded when it fails to satisfy. Even with Ivy, her only other truly abiding relationship, she lacks a natural purpose. There is always and only one person to whom she returns.

And that has to do with a whole lot more than it simply being that he is her overriding, overarching obsession: her skills as the ultimate henchwench are best demonstrated when she is with him. She was, after all, created to specifically be his henchgirl.

A false feminist ethic of comics today is female characters must be standalones and their journies follow a stock-standard format rife with cliché elements of empowerment, independence and autonomy. Female characters are subjected to being depicted as tropes rather than actual people with complex and conflicted psyches and stories to tell, of actually being treated just like any other character. Harley has become a legendary character because of her conflict and complexity and part of this is her function as a henchgirl.

But not just any henchgirl. The henchgirl is itself a trope tied to institutionalised sexism and the very fact Harley, with her broad, high-pitched voice, bubble-headed bimbosity and disingenuous sass, emulates the classic henchgirl of the early twentieth century is absolutely deliberate and conscious of this. Yes, it's very much a natural part of who she is – but she's also a clown. It's also within her nature to parody and satire.
In this way, alongside her dazzling skill set and ability to confound and baffle just about anyone she's with, she defies the sexist twist to the trope and takes it to an all-new and outstanding level.

Harley embodies the archetype of the henchgirl and is the absolute pinnacle of it.

To make her a standalone character would be to force her to conform to a mundane standard. As it is, she doesn't need to be out in front or alone to positively shine and capture the hearts of the audience. How she acts as a back-up to so many characters in so many situations is an absolute testament to how fantastic she is as a character. It must be realised that being the ultimate henchgirl is her skill set and it is one that shows her competency and proves she is interesting as well as making her truly unique. And being out in front or alone actually detracts from this skill set and how magnificently she inhabits this role. If we truly want to see dynamic and believable female characters in comics then we must pay heed to crucial factors such as this – it is a huge factor in what makes her dynamic and believable and that in turn has made her the loved and enduring character she is.

Few henchgirls can engage the audience's imagination the way that Harley has and will continue to do.

Finally, whilst Harley's particular skills make her a fantastic backup for such a wide variety of characters, there is one union that fully enables her to be noticed and displayed and that is her relationship with the Joker. Not only is her costume, her name, her very psyche oriented around him – and was designed to be so – but the Joker is better as a character for his engagement and interaction with her. A good part of the fun in seeing her in collusion with other characters is to watch how it all breaks down because Harley is truly irrepressible and the only one who can come even close to matching her is the Joker.

She was essentially created to humanise the least human Batman villain. But in doing so, she became a brilliantly beautiful comic foil, a Gracie to the Joker's George.

It's when we watch her alongside him that we catch on the hook that draws us to her to begin with. Watching her play off another, especially when it's one to whom she is so suited as him, is how we're made aware of what her charm and appeal is.

Harley Quinn is not, nor has she ever been, a henchgirl. She is THE Henchgirl. The one who is at once everything a henchgirl should be and who also exceeds, and even at times, defies that. She's better at this than anyone else in the entire DC Universe and that insane skill that so bamboozles and confounds the other characters at the same time it supports and truly assists them is a big reason why we love Harley Quinn.