Dennis O’Neil: The Pit and the Conundrum
When big pharma hears about the Lazarus Pit it will, of course, take out a patent on it and then… oh, maybe offer it as an option at upscale spas. Oh yeah, the wife and I both took a dip in the pit. Pretty pricey â 11 million and if youâre already dead double that â but boy! Way, way better than a massage…
The Pit, as far as I know, doesnât really exist, at least not in our world. Itâs a fictional apparatus that first appeared in Batman #233, back in the dark ages â weâre talking 1971 â and, like so much comic book material, has recently migrated to television, specifically to a Wednesday night program titled Arrow.
The Pit was originally the exclusive property of a 400-year-old scamp named Raâs Al Ghul, who used it to restore himself when he was on the threshold of the Great Beyond, or maybe a half step past it. It fixed him up, all right, but he emerged from it a raving lunatic, an affliction that gradually abated.
There were conditions: it was strongly implied that The Pit could work its therapy only on Raâs and that it was slowly losing potency â a time would come when it did nothing for Raâs except maybe wrinkle his skin; it was highly toxic, so if anyone other than Raâs dived in, kaput, the end, exit screaming; and it had to be situated over a certain kind of energy vortex â you couldnât just dig one in the back yard if you wanted to one-up the neighbors and their puny swimming pool. Later, like all that lasts, The Pit evolved: it would only work once per person, and, most recently, The Pit can do its medicinal voodoo-hoodoo on someone who was good and truly dead â none of this sissy only-at-deathâs-door bushwa.
Good storytelling demands that limitations exist if youâre working in a serial form and you want to run the bring-âem-back-alive scam. The question naturally arises: why not just revive everybody who dies and â oops! â there goes conflict, suspense, maybe some other plot elements, doggone it. Itâs the storytellerâs job to answer the question.
In a recent Arrow arc, the good guys used The Pit to revive one Sarah Lance, whoâd been dead quite a while â maybe months. The Pit did its stuff, but Sarah didnât recover her sanity until somebody realized that The Pit had taken her soul. The heroesâ team did some procedure, Sarahâs soul was restored, and off they went to another adventure.
The soul business gives me pause. What kind of soul â whose definition are we using? If by âsoulâ we mean some immaterial thing that lives within us, we suddenly face a version of philosophyâs old mindâbody problem: if the soul is immaterial, how can material things â The Pit, for instance â act on it? And if itâs not immaterial⦠where is it?
Maybe I should ask my guardian angel and get back to you.
Ed Note: That awesome graphic atop this column is from, and is ©, The Sports Hero (All Rights Reserved, so watch your ass), âWhere Sports & Comics Collide,â which is a wonderful concept.



The Pit in essence as I’ve understood it was a naturally unnatural phenomenon that Ra’s discovered and then used/claimed for himself for hundreds of years. How it works and why seemed like silly questions, when presented with the premise that Bruce Wayne could learn to master nigh-everything humanity has to offer by the time he’s 40, and then spend most of his nights in costume crippling crooks and raising Robins.
Sometimes a vat of chemicals is more reasonable. Sometimes it restores you, sometimes it bleaches your skin and changes your hair color, what’s important is that you come out crazy, without fail, every time.