I have seen many, MANY discussions/debates about ca:cw and I have never seen anyone mentioning that Rhodey's injury was a metaphor. How did you get that idea?
Short answer: I’ve actually read a lot on the subject. I’m teaching a media studies class right now called “What Can Superheroes Tell Us About Psychology?” (because that’s the kind of shit you can get away with at giant universities) and hoo boy are superhero narratives More Ableist Than Average. Anywhoo, a few of those readings:
I’m quoting hard from the chapter “Hyper-Normative Heroes, Othered Villains: Differential Treatment of Disability in Marvel” in a book on disability studies because it’s free. A relevant passage:
“These metaphorical portrayals all fail to engage with disability as a social category and as an individual identity, thereby ignoring its context… Nick Fury’s missing eye does not change his aim with distance weapons (e.g. Captain Marvel) or piloting software. Instead, it recurs in the films largely in metaphorical lines such as Fury’s commenting on the death of a friend with ‘I just lost my one good eye’… One character in Avengers even questions the lack of accessibility in Fury’s multi-monitor computer console, and Fury’s assistant simply answers that he must turn his head more often to compensate. The franchise thereby emphasizes that Fury’s missing eye is only a metaphor for his discernment and ability to see details that others have missed, rather than a truly integrated part of his character or even an accurate portrayal of that disability.
“8. This treatment of disability as metaphor persists throughout the MCU. In Captain America: Civil War, superhero War Machine incurs a permanent spinal injury while fighting on behalf of his best friend Iron Man. Later on, rival superhero Hawkeye… ‘You gotta watch your back with this guy. There’s a chance he’s gonna break it.’ The film then equips War Machine with a fantastical prosthesis that essentially nullifies his disabled experience through giving him the same range of motion as his non-disabled [abled] teammates, entirely without side effects or need for maintenance. The MCU films thus present disability as a metaphor for inner morality and characterization. War Machine has few experiences of being a disabled man through his spinal injury, but is instead emotionally ‘disabled’ by the damage to his social standing he has incurred through his friendship with Iron Man… The MCU thereby offers no critique of ableism or inaccessibility, instead continuing to localize disability as a problem with the body and the individual.”
Death, Disability, and the Superhero: The Silver Age and Beyond by José Alaniz is also a fantastic resource, and you can buy it for money here or hopefully find it at a library if you have no money. A few of the relevant points from his book:
Superhero stories often treat disability as a “problem” that must be “solved” through in essence nullifying the disabled experience of the character(s) through superpowers that run directly counter to the disabilities and/or fantasy “cures,” e.g.
Daredevil is blind BUT navigates the world in a way similar to sighted people due to his “radar sense,” meaning that he doesn’t get to have a lot of the lived experiences of blind individuals
Don Blake is mobility impaired and uses a cane BUT his cane transforms into mjolnir and imbues him with the power of Thor, meaning that he spends most of the story moving like a nondisabled person
Hawkeye is hard of hearing sometimes in some of the comics, BUT he often gets magical cochlear implants from Tony Stark that cause him to stop being hard of hearing
Characters that are disabled and remain disabled tend to be villains whose villainy is either implied or stated to come directly from their bitterness over being disabled, e.g.
Doctor Doom hates that he’s scarred by an explosion so much that he wants to take over the world to get revenge on the Fantastic Four
The Lizard only transforms himself because he ignores all scientific and ethical boundaries in his desperation to stop being disabled
Doctor Poison is described by herself and other characters as a “monster” for failing to (unlike Wonder Woman) conform to White Western conceptualizations of female beauty
Characters like The Thing, She-Hulk, and Bizarro have the potential for some really interesting disability narratives. However, the same publication pressures that prevent permanent injury or death to the characters also prevent the inclusion of “serious” “real-world” issues like discrimination unless it’s metaphorical (e.g. anti-mutant fearmongering as a metaphor for anti-AIDS prejudice).
The Big Damn Foundational Text on the intersection of disability studies and media studies is Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and the Dependencies of Discourse by David T. Mitchell and Sharon L. Snyder, and you can pay money for it here but it’s also available at a lot of libraries. Anyway, a couple of relevant points from that book include:
Disability portrayals abound in literature going back to pretty much the dawn of history, but most of those portrayals suck ass because:
Most disabilities are treated as metaphors rather than demographic characteristics, which means that the disabled character doesn’t get connected to other people with disabilities (including those in the real world) and offers no commentary on ableism — if Richard III’s spinal misalignment is just a metaphor for him being “twisted” inside, it doesn’t allow readers with spinal misalignment to identify with him
Disabled characters tend to exist to teach lessons to nondisabled characters rather than having their own journeys — Tiny Tim isn’t a person in A Christmas Carol, he’s an object lesson for Scrooge
Many disabled characters either get “fixed” so that they look outwardly “normal,” or their “ugliness” is used to make concrete the abstract “ugliness” of their personalities
Disability is treated as a “problem” that demands an explanation – Captain Ahab’s prosthetic leg and Joker’s facial scarring are treated as automatically demanding the question “why are you like this?,” even though no one would ever ask the same thing of their nondisabled co-characters
Authors’ implicit ableism tends to come out in their horror of disability, such as when they portray disabled characters preferring death to disability, going to extreme lengths to avoid or nullify disability, and/or declaring themselves “worthless” or “burdensome” in light of disability
Discomfort with disability — another form of implicit ableism – also comes out when disabled characters are overwhelmingly “killed or cured,” meaning that they don’t get to end their stories as living individuals who are still, in practice, disabled
ANYWAY, that’s a long-winded way of saying that I also haven’t seen any critics specifically talk about Rhodey’s disability as a metaphor first and a part of the character second, but that that doesn’t mean the shoe don’t fit. When someone asks about the Accords in Infinity War, Rhodey also says he supported them but then “I’m pretty sure I paid for that,” and gestures at his own paralyzed legs. He also also says in Endgame “I wasn’t always like this… but we work with what we’ve got” when talking to Nebula, BOTH about the fact that he’s disabled and about the fact that half the universe is dead and they’re all struggling to cope with that fact. It keeps getting used as a metaphor and keeps NOT getting used as a part of his identity. LET THE MAN TALK TO SOME OTHER DISABLED VETERANS FOR TWO SECONDS, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.
A couple of other (free!) readings that talk about that general problem of “we love superheroes and we hate ableism, now what?” even if they don’t mention Rhodey specifically:
“Reevaluating the Supercrip” by Sami Schalk connects media portrayals of the paralympics to media portrayals of Captain America and the Doom Patrol. (I swear to god it makes sense in context.)
“Seven Roads to Justice for Superheroes and Humans” by Mikhail Lyubansky gets into the glaring (for me, anyway) question of “why the fuck are sci fi psychologists all so evil and useless?” by explaining why Harley Quinn must be evil for Batman to be a vigilante.
“Superhero Comics as Moral Pornography” by David A. Pizarro and Roy Baumeister (again, I swear it makes sense if you read it) discusses the evolutionary tendency to judge people based on disabilities and why it’s so popular in superhero stories specifically.
Anyway, you probably weren’t looking for an entire annotated bibliography in response to that question, but I’ve never been one to use five words when 500 would suffice.