Comic Coverage

Exhibit A: Action Comics #1

One of the great things about collecting comics is that, no matter how much you think you know about a certain topic, some new bit of information always seems to come along.

The latest mini-bombshell concerns Action Comics #1, which featured the first appearance of Superman...thereby making it the most high-profile, valuable, and exhaustively-discussed comic book in existence. However, just when I thought I knew all there was to know about the "Big Bang" of superhero comics, along came an interesting article posted at The Scoop. 

Sponsored by Gemstone Publications and Diamond International Galleries, The Scoop covers the current comics scene as well as comics history, original art, and memorabilia. A recent post titled "Action Comics #1- A Legal Issue?" brought to light the existence of a very unique copy of the famous comic book. 

You see, in the wake of Superman's ultra-popular debut, a boatload of copycat characters started popping up...one of which was Wonder Man, published by the notoriously shifty Victor Fox and (reluctantly) created by Jerry Iger and Will Eisner. DC and their team of lawyers promptly began what would become the very first copyright infringement suit to protect their Superman character.

As part of their successful lawsuit, DC submitted a copy of Action Comics #1 as one of its key pieces of evidence (along with Eisner's testimony). Stamped by the Federal Court on both March 16th and April 6th of 1939, here's a look at the cover of this extremely unique and amazingly well-preserved comic book:

 (click on the image for a larger view)

Curiously, the article didn't mention where this copy is today. I sent an email to the Scoop to learn if it's still in possession of the Federal Court or with a private owner...and how much something like this might be worth on the collector's market.  Care to take any guesses?  High six figures....seven figures? I hope I hear back from them!  Click here to read the entire article at The Scoop.

UPDATE: Well, one aspect of the mystery has been solved. According to my pal Allen, the court exhibit copy of Action Comics #1 has indeed passed into the private market and is now on display at the Geppi Entertainment Museum in Baltimore, Maryland. Allen took this photo in 2007 and has graciously allowed me to post it here.  Thanks, Allen!

   

You'll note that there's also a stamped copy of Action Comics #2 displayed next to it, and is most likely another exhibit submitted by DC's lawyers back in '39.  

Now that we know where the court copy is, all I need to know now is how much that baby is worth!  I can't imagine there are many copies in better condition than this one...so it's gotta be worth a "kingly sum".  Stay tuned! 

Which Came First? Brainiac or BRAINIAC?

Although Superman's villains don't enjoy as high a profile as, say, Batman's, most comic book fans are aware of Brainiac, an inhuman computer mind bent on destroying civilizations and stealing their knowledge. 

However, modern fans may not be aware that Brainiac's earliest appearances portrayed him not as an malevolent computer, but as a living, green-skinned humanoid with an advanced intellect. Sort of an intergalactic version of Lex Luthor. In fact, his original design in Action Comics #242 (1958) didn't even include the telltale diodes that have criss-crossed the top of his head for decades (and, strangely, that same issue's cover).

Then, six years later in Superman #167, Brainiac was suddenly revealed to be the evil computer we're familiar with today. Why the sudden switch?  For the answer, look no further than the Special Announcement printed on this issue's letters page:

Considering Otto Binder's affinity for actual science (which I infer from his work on Space World magazine), I'm guessing that his selection of the name "Brainiac" may not have been the "remarkable coincidence" the editor claimed it to be (perhaps under advisement from DC's legal department), but setting that aside, it IS pretty amazing to find out how DC Comics intersected with a guy like Berkeley (above inset photo), very much a "brainiac" himself in the nascent field of computer science & robotics.

So...how did DC respond to Mr. Berkeley's earlier claim to the term "Brainiac"?

 

Now, as much as I love the straight-forward innocence of these old letter pages, the 21st century cynic in me wants to peek a little further behind the scenes. In other words, was this public acknowledgment of the name duplication, and DC's decision to make Brainaic a "computer personality" enough for Edmund C. Berkeley and/or those representing his interests (i.e. "lawyers")?  My answer seems to materialize in the very next paragraph, as DC hypes the living daylights out of Mr. Berkeley's "Brainiac" home computer kit...a little quid quo pro, perhaps?

Far be it from me to just end it here, right?  After reading about this mysterious Brainiac Computer Kit, I just had to see a visual.  After a bit of searching, I finally found a shot of an original kit in all of its "less than $20" glory.  What do you think...does that look "simple" enough to construct at home?

The Great Disconnect

As a lifelong fan of comic books, I enjoy learning about their history and the people who created them. One of the absolute best sources for this kind of information is TwoMorrows, the publisher of several magazines, books, and DVDs dedicated to the artform I follow so closely.

However, having read several of their magazines (among them Alter Ego, Comic Book Artist, and Back Issue), I've noticed something of an underlying trend in their interviews with comic book creators...particularly those with older "first generation" writers, artists, and editors. What often comes through is a subtle "disconnect" between the interviewers (usually comic fans and/or scholars of the first order) and their subjects, who have either long forgotten the details of their early careers or...if they do remember...don't share the interviewer's enthusiasm or flair for minutia.

The disconnect is usually a subtle thing that doesn't impact the interview...but in one case, the gulf between the interviewer's assumptions and the reality that confronted him was so dramatic, I just had to convey the flavor of it here.

Back in 2001, the seventh issue of Alter Ego featured a retrospective of Mac Raboy, one of the greatest illustrators of comics' Golden Age. Best known for his spectacular work on Fawcett's Captain Marvel Jr., Raboy also drew the Green Lama and the Flash Gordon newspaper strip. Part of the Raboy coverage included Roger Hill's interview with Raboy's adult son David, whose recollections of his father's career and character were not at all what Hill was expecting to hear, making for an uncomfortable and somewhat depressing conversation.  Appropriately enough, the interview was titled "Nothing is Ever Good Enough".

I obviously won't be reprinting the entire interview...but here's the point where I started getting the feeling that Mac Raboy wasn't the guy Roger Hill had assumed him to be.

Roger Hill: Was he the kind of artist who saved copies of everything he did?

David Raboy: No, but my mother did. She was the family archivist, I guess you could call her. He had a habit of destroying his work, so it was hard to get it, sometimes.

RH: You mean, Mac would be dissatisfied with something he had drawn and he would just tear it up?

Raboy: Yeah. Nothing was ever good enough. Therefore it couldn't be seen by anyone because it would reflect poorly on him.

After that odd prelude, the conversation moved on to Raboy's Flash Gordon work...and a blunt response Hill clearly didn't anticipate.

RH: Did your father seem happy drawing Flash Gordon?

Raboy: He hated it!

Undeterred, Hill pressed on...as if what he'd just heard couldn't possibly be true.

RH: That seems strange to me. I mean, a lot of the artists who started in comic books back in those days thought it was the supreme opportunity to get a respected newspaper strip, or any newspaper strip, for that matter. In Mac's case, he was able to take on one of the most famous adventure strips of all time and was able to follow in the footsteps of the great Alex Raymond.

Raboy: He hated it.

RH: Did he seem happy or appreciative that he got his originals back from King Features?

Raboy: I don't know if there ever was a reaction. I'm not aware that he really cared one way or another.

RH: And I don't suppose he ever talked about selling these originals?

Raboy: No. That would never even have been a consideration. They were put into the closet and they were not shown to anybody, and they were not available to anybody.

Hill continued to push, until it was apparent he had crossed a line...

RH: Mac never gifted any Sunday page originals to anybody?

Raboy: No. Absolutely not. When you originally contacted me and wanted to talk about my father...you see, there's a lot that you don't know that is very personal within the family.  There was and still is a reluctance about all of this. Even in the stuff that I'm telling you, it's not the whole picture, if you know what I mean.

Ookayy. At that point, Hill wisely moved away from the comics questions and onto the safer waters of Raboy's other artistic pursuits...but still unable to accept Raboy's contempt for his comic strip work, he once again returned to the topic of Flash Gordon:

RH: It's strange to me that he took great pride in his woodworking, sculpting, and set-designing abilities, and yet he just didn't have it for his pen and ink work on Flash Gordon.

Raboy: No, it was just--you have to understand. He had no use for King Features. He had no use for newspapers.

RH: But they paid him good money.

Raboy: Well, that's how he supported his family, but he didn't admire them. He didn't respect what he was doing. I told you, he hated Flash Gordon and detested what he was doing.

To review: Mac Raboy hated everything! Happily, David Raboy finally threw poor Roger Hill a bone toward the end of the interview:

RH: Did Mac ever talk about his days working for comic books?

Raboy: Only in terms that were rather derogatory. I think he took some pride in having helped create Captain Marvel Jr. I do think he felt good about that.

Wheeeeee!  Something Mac Raboy actually felt proud of!  Does this mean the interview ended on a positive note?  Eh...no. Not really...as the conversation inevitably turned to Mac Raboy's death.

RH: Was Mac buried up in (his hometown of) Golden's Bridge?

Raboy: No. There was no service, and my father was cremated. My father was an atheist, as was my mother. So there would not have been any ceremony of any kind. I too am an atheist and would not engage in ceremonies of that kind.

On that uplifting note, I think it's safe to say that the professional life of Mac Raboy (at least as characterized by his son) was a bit of a disappointment to the interviewer. Again, this level of disenchantment wasn't the norm for these sorts of interviews, yet it remains a painfully awkward reminder that fanboy assumptions about legendary comic book creators don't always mesh with reality.

Looking Past the Caricatures to Say "Thank You"

Although war stories have long been a part of the comic book world, far too often the U.S fighting man has been portrayed as little more than a faceless pawn or a 2-dimensional caricature. Sometimes the wars they fought and died in became mere backdrops in the dopey desperation of selling just one more comic book.

To be sure, some war comics genuinely tried to portray soldiers and the wars they fought in with some degree of accuracy, empathy, and appreciation...but sadly, the vast majority of them fell far short of that. Let me be the first to admit I've enjoyed some of these crazy takes on war, but whenever Memorial Day rolls around, I realize just how stupid alot of that stuff was...and feel a bit ashamed for allowing it to obscure the true heroism and sacrifice made by so many fighting men.

So, on this Memorial Day, I need to remember these soldiers not as green plastic toys, dinosaur-hunters, or buffoonish cartoons...but as real people with real histories who gave everything they had.

If Ever a Whiz There Was

To really shine in the world of comic book superheroes, you've gotta have three things going for you:

Those three qualities add up to what we call an "A-Lister".  You know who they are: Superman, Spider-Man, Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Iron-Man, Batman, Captain America, and other icons...all of whom have cool powers, compelling origins, and classic names.

Although three is the gold standard, it's been shown that you can be a reasonably successful "B-Lister" with only two of those qualities. For example, you could have cool powers, a cool origin, yet have a not-so-hot name (like Green Lantern or J'onn J'onzz) and still get some high visibility and good gigs.

However, possessing only one of the three qualities isn't going to get you anywhere but the C-List. 

Let's take young Robert Frank, for example.  Making his debut in USA Comics #1 (1941), his power of super-speed certainly qualified as cool...but calling himself The Whizzer (while wearing a bright yellow costume, no less) instantly disqualified him from the "cool name" category.

Granted, when the word "whiz" was used back in the 1940's, it wasn't the snicker-inducing word it is today, as the term "gee whiz", "Whiz Comics" and this 1948 ad for a motorized bike can attest...

But still...I would think even by the less puerile standards of the 1940's, "The Whizzer" was an odd choice for a superhero name.

Ah...but what about his origin?  Don't these super-speedster origins usually involve cool stuff like lightning or secret formulas?  Well, not in this case. In fact, it's no exaggeration to say that the Whizzer probably had the lamest origin in the 70+ years of superhero comic books. Don't believe me?  Here, check out a summary of his origin from Marvel Premiere #29 (1976) for the laughably insane details (click on the image for a larger view):

That's right, Robert Frank gained super-speed from an emergency transfusion of mongoose blood...and when even writer and Golden Age acoylyte Roy Thomas seems embarassed by your name and origin, you've got problems.

Happily, the Whizzer was revived for a short time during the 1970's for a series of well-received Avengers stories. Returning to action as a much older man, he was initially thought to be the long-long father of the Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver (later disproven), but ultimately sacrificed his life to give a second chance to his actual son, the mutant known as Nuklo. 

Which goes to show: In the proper hands, even a C-list strike-out like the Whizzer (mongoose blood and all) has a great story just waiting to be told.

Comic Books 101: The History, Methods, and Madness!

Back in April I gave a brief preview or "heads up" on Comic Books 101: The History, Methods, and Madness, a cool new book co-written by my pals Scott Tipton and Chris Ryall. I was brought into the project to create several interior illustrations and chapter intros, which I didn't want to say too much about until the book officially hit the shelves.

Well, now that June's finally here, I can fill you in on the details behind Comic Books 101, as well as post some of my artwork. Having written about comic books for years, Tipton (comic book writer and proprietor of the Comics 101 website) and Ryall (Editor-In-Chief of IDW Publishing) pooled their vast knowledge and created a user-friendly overview of comic books that the newbie and hardcore fan alike could find informative and fun.

Part of that fun is the easy-going tone set by Tipton and Ryall, as personal opinions and asides make their "lessons" feel more like a conversation between friends than a dry, pedantic slog. As a continuation of that lighter tone, the authors wanted cartoon versions of themselves to appear in several of the book's illustrations...and that's where I came in! Creating a total of 11 color illustrations (all of which tie into various topics throughout the book), I was honored to play a part in such an entertaining project.  

And that was before I found out who else would be contributing to the book! 

Using their contacts throughout the industry, Tipton and Ryall managed to get commentaries and personal musings from several high profile comic geeks like Clive Barker, Gene Simmons, Mark Waid, Paul Dini, Marv Wolfman, Harlan Ellison, and even Stan "The Man" Lee!  Who'd have thought me and Stan would ever (sort of) work on a project together? Certainly not ME!

So, here's just some of the stuff I did for the book (click on the artwork for a larger view)...

What's going on in these illustrations?  Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?  You'll just have to buy the book to find out!  Seriously, consider picking up a copy for either yourself or someone you'd like to introduce to the wonderful world of comic books! Click on the link below to order one from Amazon.com!

Comic Books 101: The History, Methods and Madness

The Many Faces of Namor

Following last year's big 70^th birthday party for Superman, the seven-decade celebrations just keep on coming for the superheroes who followed his 1938 debut. Of course, the most high profile member of the "Class of '39" would be the other half of DC's opening act: The Batman...but just behind him were the "Big Two" of Marvel precursor Timely Comics: The Human Torch and the Namor, the Sub-Mariner.

Making their debut as separate features in Marvel Comics #1 (spring of 1939), the unconventional approach that would one day define Marvel Comics was already in play, as the Torch and Namor were portrayed more as freaks and dangerous forces of nature than DC's costumed crimefighters (though, to be fair, the early Superman and Batman had a bit of an edge to them as well).

In fact, right from the very beginning, Namor was comics' first anti-hero, whose arrogance and constant, rage-fueled attacks on the surface world (and the Human Torch) made him very much the dark flip-side of Superman's stoic benevolence. Later, once America entered World War II, Namor abandoned his war on humanity and joined with other Timely heroes (including Captain America) to "kick some Axis"...yet his hatred for humanity has continued to ebb and flow like the tide.

However, Namor's loyalties weren't the only thing to shift over the years. More than any other superhero, the Sub-Mariner's physical appearance has varied so dramatically, has been so consistently INconsistent (or, as we say in the biz, "off-model"), it truly has to be seen to be believed....which is where I come in.

First of all, here's Subby as those of us in the "modern era" know him. Taken from two of my favorite covers, we've got Namor's green Speedo look alongside the regal dark-blue jumpsuit he currently wears. Both looks are consistent in their general look (wrist bands, ankle wings, arrogant body language), yet there is enough variation in his eyebrow arch, hairline and head shape to hint at the eye-popping permutations of earlier times.

In this snippet from his first cover appearance (Marvel Mystery Comics #4, 1940), Namor's facial features and head shape look fairly normal, with his pointed ears and angular eyebrows the only sign of his exotic heritage. Ah...but check out that funky light brown hair...an odd look for a character better known for a steely-black head of hair.

By 1941, Namor's face begins to take on a much more exaggerated, almost elfish appearance, as seen here on the second issue of All-Winners Comics. Topping it off (literally) is a crop of firey red hair (must have been from all those fights with the Human Torch)!

Four years later, on the cover of All-Winners Comics #17, Namor's face had become so elongated...so harshly angled, that it looked more like an African Fang Mask than the regal undersea scion we met back in 1939.

Incredibly, like some sort of "Golden Age Michael Jackson", Subby's already bizarre face became even more crazy and extreme by 1946. As you can see in these excerpts from All-Winners Comics #19, Namor's head became an eerie, utterly inhuman abstraction.

Forget about his human/Atlantean heritage...by this point, Namor looked like a cross between an alien, Dick Tracy villain Flattop, and Charles Burns' Big Baby character!

Mercifully, the post-WWII collapse of the superhero craze banished this rather demented version of Namor. After a several year hiatus, the Sub-Mariner briefly resurfaced during the mid 1950's...this time with a much less cartoonish cranium and a major league hatred for Commies.

Following this brief return, Namor once again vanished from the newsstands... and wouldn't return until Stan Lee and Jack Kirby reintroduced him in Fantastic Four #4 (1962). So...with his transition to the more refined Silver Age of comics, Namor's bizarre facial distortions became a thing of the past, right? 

Eh....not quite.

The Exposition League of America

"You talk too much, you talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound to drive me away."

"You Talk Too Much" by George Thorogood and the Destroyers

Although the target of Thorogood's blues/rock classic was a chatty girlfriend/wife, it very well could have been directed at the Silver Age Justice League of America!

Confession time: Although I generally enjoy the simple pleasures of Silver Age (1950's-60's) DC comics, I have to admit there are some titles that are a really tough slog for me....such as The Justice League of America.

Having collected several DC titles from that era, I'm well aware of the factors that made them such a unique and often peculiar reading experience. However, there's always been something about the JLA stories of writer Gardner Fox and artist Mike Sekowsky that drives me away ...despite my best efforts to appreciate them. In fact, my latest attempt took place just last week when I checked out the Justice League of America Archives (volume 4) from the library.

Reprinting issues #23 (1963) through #30 (1964), I began reading in the most charitable frame of mind I could muster...only to be bored senseless a paltry two stories in! Once again I asked, "What is it about these stories that instantly turns me off?"

Well, one of the most obvious turn-offs remains Mike Sekowsky's stiff and stocky figure work which, as my pal Scott Tipton observed, made the JLA resemble "a bunch of middle-aged businessmen dressed up for a Kiwanis Club masquerade party".

Adding to Tipton's impression is a recent observation of my own that Sekowsky's JLA looked more like stiffly-posed action figures than dynamic, living beings. In short, not my cup of tea.

However, as bland and uninspiring as the artwork was, it's recently dawned on me that my biggest hang-up with the Silver Age Justice League is the writing of Gardner Fox. A prolific writer during the 1940's (a.k.a. "The Golden Age of Comics"), Fox was the co-creator of The Justice Society of America, comics' first superteam and the direct predecessor of the Justice League. Still, as impressive as the Fox resume was, his gimmicky, plot-driven Golden Age sensibilities didn't translate especially well to the emerging character-driven style of the Silver Age. Of course, it didn't help having Julius Schwartz as his editor, who was legendary for his own infatuation with stories low on characterization and high on plot-driven gimmickry. Further dampening Fox's effectiveness was DC editorial's over-arching preference of heavy exposition over visual storytelling to propel their stories forward...with characters often telling the audience (and each other) what they were doing rather than letting the visuals convey it (as their new crosstown rival Marvel Comics was able to do so masterfully).

In other words, the Justice League of Gardner Fox (at the direction of DC editorial) was extremely heavy on the talky-talk and skimpy on visual storytelling and spectacle...as this montage of random panels more than demonstrates (Warning! Do no drive or operate heavy machinery while reading these long, rambling word balloons!)...

Although supervillains have always been known for their self-indulgent monologuing, Fox's JLA villains took it to an entirely new level of eye-glazing blather (click to enlarge)...

When Fox wasn't trying to break the world record for long-winded blabbity-blah, his Justice League stories featured some of the strangest, most surreal whack-nuttery of DC's Silver Age era...which could often be fun in DC's other books...but when you're barely engaged in a JLA story to begin with, stuff like leg-swapping superheroes, flowing "success factor", recharging "victory force" and pantomiming dinosaurs would have the opposite effect...and obliterate whatever minimal interest or goodwill it might have earned up to that point.

For those who genuinely enjoyed the Fox-Sekowsky Justice League stories, my apologies...and, frankly, a small measure of envy. I really wish I could look past their limitations and enjoy them like I can with so much of DC's Silver Age output...but for the reasons I touched upon (and maybe some others I haven't yet identified), the Fox/Sekowsky JLA stories remain in the "I don't get it" column.

Simply the Best: The Coming of the Anti-Hero

When the movie Dirty Harry hit theaters in late 1971, Clint Eastwood's portrayal of the cynical, unorthodox title character really seemed to hit a nerve with the general public. Weary of escalating urban crime and chaos, movie audiences found the ruthless Harry Callahan to be a no-nonsense antidote to the increasingly bureaucratic and therapeutic response of the criminal justice system.

Well, at the time, I was obviously much too young to even watch Dirty Harry, much less perceive the shift in the socio-political winds. However, in the smaller microcosm of superhero comics (which I'd stumbled into the summer of '73), the debut of The Punisher on the mindblowing cover of The Amazing Spider-Man #129 (1974) seemed to signal a change in tone that even an eight year-old kid like me could pick up on. 

Sporting one of the best-designed costumes in all of comicdom, the deadly skill and steely concentration of the mysterious mercenary are obvious in this jaw-dropping Gil Kane cover (inked by John Romita Sr., who'd also designed the Punisher's costume). Kane's trademark perspective-twisting anatomy skills are put to good use here as Spider-Man literally twists in the wind trying to escape the Punisher's deadly aim...which didn't look likely with those cross-hairs directly over his heart!

In addition to the rather startling sight of the Punisher (against a blazing yellow background, no less), the layout of the cover has some cool "under the radar" stuff going on.

In the left-hand example below, note how a "V" shape is formed by the Spidey corner icon following an invisible angled line to the Punisher's head, to his shoulder, then directly to the center of the cross-hairs...with the perspective of the background buildings forming the second angle of the "V" shape.  So, while the Punisher is the "star" of the cover, the eye is still riveted to the topsy-turvy title character.

In the example on the right, note how the direction of the Punisher's shot lines up perfectly with the high-powered bullet's impact "blast" on the building behind Spider-Man. Despite the switch in perspectives, the visual connection between the rifle shot and the background impact blast elegantly and efficiently makes it clear that the Punisher is the one shooting at Spider-Man.  In fact, if the impact blast had been placed somewhere else, it's very likely the viewer wouldn't get as clear of a "read". A wonderful, yet deceptively simple cover design.

For the next several years following his debut, the Punisher's appearances were few and far between...making the character all the more mysterious and fascinating. Sadly, the appetite for darker, morally ambigous characters grew steadily through the late 70's, the 80's, and beyond...to the point where a once-intriguing figure like the Punisher became lost in a sea of thuggish pseudo-heroes and disaffected loners. But back in late 1973, this dangerous mercenary who'd declared a war on crime far deadlier than even Batman's was every bit as controversial and intriguing as his debut cover.