Arrows Can't Solve Every Problem

Ann Nocenti started her stint (not really long enough to be a "run") on Green Arrow with Ollie standing on a rooftop. He's lamenting all the horrible tedious paperwork that comes with owning a company, and contemplates ditching it to do superheroing full-time. In her final issue, he saves a boy from an exploding building, while worrying about the future the kid will have in the juvenile criminal justice system.

It highlights just how much he managed to lose over the course of her run. This should be the sort of excitement he was looking for, but he barely even notices what he's doing. It's autopilot. Defeat bad guy, ensure bad guy doesn't die, save civilians, repeat. Even when he gets what should be good news, that a woman he kept from committing suicide previously has decided she does want to keep living, and credits him for saving her, he barely notices.

At the same time, that company he found so tedious is lost to him. It may not have reached his conscious mind, but on some level, he realizes now how much he could do with it. Too little, too late. It's one of those differences between him and Batman. Batman was smart enough to realize there are ways he can use Wayne Enterprises to improve Gotham that don't involve raiding its R&D labs for stuff he can slap a Bat-logo on. In the past continuities, Ollie would occasionally realize that, but he'd also distance himself from it, out of some form of guilt over it. And sometimes, he'd have it stolen right out from under him. Some things never change.

Ollie can't find the proper balance. There are ways Green Arrow can be useful. The cops wouldn't have been able to talk Pike out of blowing himself up, and they probably couldn't have saved him from the explosion. Green Arrow's involvement probably saved Hawkman, though you're welcome to question if that's a good thing. He saved Pauline when it's doubtful anyone else could have. So there are good reasons for him to be Green Arrow, and there's no reason he shouldn't enjoy it. He just needed to recognize the value he had in his company, beyond its potential as a toy chest.

A superhero trying to find balance isn't new. Batman struggles with trust issues, Spidey tries to juggle saving lives with work and relationships. They don't always succeed, but they make the attempt. But not Ollie. He's all or nothing. He's a lazy goofball throwing parties on an oil rig, until he decides to take out a cyborg criminal and his gang with a bow. Which blows up in his face. He's willing to follow a pretty face anywhere, until he thinks she betrayed him (never mind she had two identical sisters), at which point, hit the bricks, kid. Then he swears off relationships entirely. He doesn't want his company until he doesn't have it. He's desperate to keep his blood out of Lear's hands, but runs around Seattle for days with a head wound bleeding all over. There's no moderation to him.

Is that why he's going constantly? He gets sucked into the Hawkman thing on the way back from China, and clearly didn't waste any time after that getting on Harrow's bad side. He seems intent on keeping going until he can't any longer. Mainly though, it keeps him from confronting what a wreck he's made of his life. Company gone, personal fortune nearly gone, alienating his friends, at least some of the citizenry questioning whether he's helping them at all. If he keeps moving, he doesn't have to face it, doesn't have to decide what to do about it. Except that doesn't work. There are always going to be moments where things are quiet, and now even in the busy times, his mind wanders. Just once, he needs to plan something, but that's a moderate path. He isn't doing nothing, but he's also not doing something, and he can't have that.

His last lines are, 'Somebody once said fate is what happens despite the best laid plans. One arrow at a time.' Does that explain it? Ollie's given up any idea of preparing, because something's already predetermined the outcome. He's just going to go in shooting arrows, and whatever happens, happens. Seems like a neat way to absolve himself of responsibility, and maybe that's what he wants, is to not feel guilt over his failures. Even as he keeps a wall of pictures of people whose lives he wrecked, as he put it. Claim it's fate, but still blame himself? Ollie doesn't know whether he's coming or going, just that he's moving.