For all the things that we got out of the transformation of Batman into a "dark, serious" character in the 1980s, it might be argued that some of the character's aspirational qualities were lost in the shuffle. Now Batman would be defined as a vigilante with ambiguous morals, a semi-psychopath on a mission of vengeance; you were interested in the guy, but you didn't want to be him. Ironically enough, the man who probably did most to create the prototype for "A-hole Batman", Frank Miller, also offered plenty of evidence of Batman as a heroic figure. Miller suggested that Batman could be a negative social force, yes - inspiring ageing versions of the Joker and Two-Face to come out of retirement and wreak havoc once more - but he also suggested that Batman could inspire good, could inspire the decent people of Gotham to feel safe on their streets once again. Carrie Kelley is the fulfillment of that promise. In a sense, Carrie is the early prototype for what Tim Drake, the third "official" Robin, will become. Carrie doesn't become Robin because she has a traumatic familial experience (unless you count dope smoking ex-hippie parents as traumatic), or because she has an overwhelming desire for vengeance; she becomes Robin because Batman is awesome, and she's inspired by his example to carry the torch and help him fight crime. She's not a trained fighter by any means, but she pluckily leaps in to rescue Batman from the Mutant Leader; she makes up through a lack of skill through fortitude, will and a desire to learn and improve. Carrie is not inspired to help people because of some deep seated guilt complex, but because it's the right thing to do, a lesson she learned from Batman. (The fact that she also finally allows teenage girls into the "Boy's Only" Batcave doesn't hurt, either.)
C.B. Jacobson pops up at What Culture every once in a while, and almost without fail manages to embarrass the site with his clumsy writing. When he's not here, he's making movies, or writing about them at http://buddypuddle.blogspot.com.