"That can't be true, John. I can't imagine saying that." I Am Stan (and Stuf' Said) review

A few years ago I read and enjoyed Jack Kirby: The Epic Life of the King of Comics, a graphic novel biography of Jack Kirby written and drawn by Tom Scioli. When I learned he had recently released I Am Stan: A Graphic Biography of the Legendary Stan Lee I was immediately intrigued and quickly read a copy. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy this book as I had the earlier tome.

I Am Stan covers Stan Lee's life from childhood to death and as he lived a good 95 years that's a lot of ground to cover. Early on the book traces events from his life as a fairly linear biography but once Marvel Comics becomes a success in the 1960s the narrative gets a little snarled as Scioli moves events around chronologically for dramatic effect and frequently years pass between pages without notice.

If you're very well-versed in the life of Stan Lee then you should have no problem following Scioli's account of his life -- everything he represents has already been covered by other biographies. If you're not familiar with the other biographies you will probably find yourself at a loss to understand why Scioli dramatizes episodes from Stan's life without context.

For instance, early in Stan's life Scioli puts great effort into contextualizing and explaining what's going on; when Stan becomes editor at Marvel, Scioli takes the time to name check all the artists in the bullpen at the time. You would assume that it will important to know the names of all these men since Scioli took the time to name them, but that would be an incorrect assumption; Syd Shores makes one more brief appearance but knowing who was who in the 1940s bullpen matters not a whit to the rest of the book. Similarly, late in the book there's an episode where the police engage in a wellness check on Stan Lee and there are references to a business partner called "Keya." If you're up on your Stan Lee lore then you know why the police are talking to Stan and who "Keya" is but Scioli doesn't frame this.

Like the police wellness check scene, many pages of I Am Stan feel weightless, without narrative. His Jack Kibry was guided by narration told in Kirby's voice but there is no one to guide Lee's life. If you haven't already read a recent biography of Stan Lee (such as my favourite, True Believer by Abraham Riesman) you won't understand the weight of certain scenes; as well, the story is told strictly from Stan Lee's perspective - so when Steve Ditko and Jack Kirby leave Marvel the reader doesn't really understand why they did so, only that Stan didn't understand.

If I understand Scioli's efforts, it seems like he just wanted to put the reader into Stan Lee's shoes and experience moments from his life, but the longer the book went on the less connected I felt to Stan as the narrative wandered from one moment to another on each page. Rather than a long-form narrative, I Am Stan reads like a webcomic that was meant to be enjoyed one page at a time rather than all at once - and as an addendum to a proper biography, not a biography in its own right.

---

Seeking out I Am Stan led me to Stuf' Said by John Morrow, a publication that was originally an issue of Morrow's Jack Kirby Collector magazine in 2019. A large part of why we comics fans have such complicated misgivings about Stan Lee have to do with the way he treated his collaborators, particularly Jack Kirby. In Stuf' Said, Morrow created a chronology from interviews and statements by Lee, Kirby and others close to them to track the sequence of events that led to Lee and Kirby's collaboration at Marvel and its dissolution.

Stuf' Said is definitely for the serious comics devotee - the one who really wants to know 'who said this and when.' For all that I know about these periods of history, there was a lot I didn't know such as the complete timeline on Kirby's involvement in the creation of Spider-Man; Kirby claiming a hand in creating Spider-Man was divisive to fans (although reading Morrow's book, Kirby's actual quotes are not as dismissive to Ditko as I saw others claim online) so discovering the earliest published mention of Kirby's involvement actually appeared in Marvel's own Foom magazine surprised me.

Riseman's True Believer had earlier made an impression on me with how passive-aggressive Stan seemed towards his collaborators and that not every artist was willing to put up with it (certainly not Steve Ditko or Wally Wood). Stuf' Said is particularly good at piecing all of those slights together; it's particularly instructive to note how many times Stan disparaged Dr. Strange while he was scripting that series - indeed he only seemed to consent that Ditko created Dr. Strange because he didn't want credit for those comics. But decades into his role as Marvel's perennial pitchman, he would repeatedly claim Dr. Strange was a favourite of his.

Stuf' Said is definitely not for the layman, it's for the dedicated comics fan who has a firm grasp on Lee and Kirby's careers. But I found it a fine book with a great deal of interesting discernments on the part of the author (particularly noting Kirby's satire of Stan Lee would have been invented at the same time Romita was satirizing Kirby in Captain America).

Both I Am Stan and Stuf' Said are best enjoyed by the experienced comics fan, but while I Am Stan is all very familiar and loosely-structured, Stuf' Said has excellent research and a very firm layout. It's obvious which I prefer.

New article in Ditkomania!

I'm pleased to report that I have an article published in the latest issue of the fanzine Ditkomania! Issue #97 includes a 2-page article by me about the beauty of Steve Ditko's art as published in black and white - specifically, how work which was originally published in colour looked very attractive when rendered without colour. For that reason my article is titled: "Ditko, Nude; or, Naked Came the Strange Tales."

You can buy a copy from the official website!

A Game Most Dangerous, Part 11: Isle of the Beast

Welcome back to A Game Most Dangerous! Let's turn again to the horror genre for another one-off variant on The Most Dangerous Game as found in Warren Magazines' Eerie #9 (1967) and the story "Isle of the Beast!" written by Archie Goodwin and drawn by Steve Ditko!!! So right off the bat, that's the single best creative collaboration this blog series has seen thus far!

The story seemingly wastes no time on set-up but opens on our protagonist Amberson, running desperately through the jungle while being hunted for sport - but then the magazine's host Cousin Eerie steps in and the story steps back to explain itself. Amberson washes ashores on a Caribbean island after his ship is sunk. A man named Rochefort welcomes him to the island and plays host in his manor. But Rochefort wastes little time in bringing Amberson to his trophy room to show off his collection of human heads!

Amberson passes out. Two days later he awakens to find Rochefort standing over him with a gun drawn. Rochefort explains himself: "Perhaps you're familiar with a short story by Richard Connell, 'The Most Dangerous Game'?" Ah, just like the Dreamer story, this one isn't afraid to admit it's a reworking! Rochefort was a big game hunter loved Connell's story so much that when he tired of big game hunting he started hunting men. But even that wasn't enough, so he used biochemistry to transform himself into a weird 'beast', granting himself something of an ability to hunt men like an animal. Amberson is desperate to get back to the mainland but Rochefort intends to make him his next sport, imploring him to prove himself "worthy of the hunt".

After a grace period, Rochefort adopts his 'beast' form and tracks Amberson. It doesn't take long before he finds his quarry and he admits to being disappointed in Amberson for leaving such an obvious trail. But Amberson has a surprise for the hunter: you see, it's a full moon tonight. Amberson was trying to get to the mainland so that friends there could chain him up. But now nothing can stop his transformation into a werewolf! Rochefort might be a 'beast' but Amberson is the superior animal as he leaps upon his prey! Cousin Eerie returns to joke that unless Rochefort has "a set of silver teeth" that he just lost the hunt.

My thoughts: This was a pretty good story! The Most Dangerous Game, Goodwin, Ditko - three things I like! And boy, Ditko's Warren stories were so beautiful with those lush black & white tones. The twist to the story is pretty basic by Eerie standards but it's an interesting twist on The Most Dangerous Game to have both men essentially become animals rather than fight like men.

The Hunter:

• A RussianEuropean? nobleman (2/4 points)
• Who is a big game hunter (4/4 points)
• But is no longer challenged by big game (4/4 points)
• So he hunts men on his secluded island (4/4 points)
• Justifying this through a eugenics/Darwinian philosophy (0/4 points)
• He is aided by his servants, including a disfigured mute (0/4 points)
• And his vicious hunting dogs (0/4 points)
• He obtains his prey by scuttling nearby ships (4/4 points)
• His victims are given a time limit of 3 days; if they are alive at the deadline, they win the hunt (0/4 points)
• As a further example of his sense of "sportsmanship", he will deliberately prolong the hunt if he finds it interesting (0/4 points)
• His victims are placed on display in his trophy room (4/4 points)

The Hunted:

• A famous big game hunter (0/4 points)
• Who philosophizes about what (if anything) animals sense while being hunted (0/4 points)
• He is cast overboard and finds himself on the hunter's island, alone (4/4 points)
• The hunter knows him because of his reputation (0/4 points)
• When he learns the hunter's scheme he refuses to hunt alongside him (0/4 points)
• Hunted by the hunter, he flees into the wilderness trying to avoid detection (4/4 points)
• His only tool is a knife which the hunter gave him (0/4 points)
• In time he constructs traps to kill the hunter or his servants (0/4 points)
• He survives the ordeal by leaping over a cliff (0/4 points)
• Although the hunt is over, he confronts the hunter and duels him to the death (0/4 points)

The Island:

• Is a tropical island in the Caribbean (4/4 points)
• Surrounded by dangerous reefs which wreck ships (4/4 points)
• The island has a dangerous swamp (0/4 points)
• And high cliffs (0/4 points)

Once again I'm awarding an arbitrary +1 to the story's score for directly referencing Richard Connell's story.

Total score: 39/100!

This black & white game is most cunning; let's hunt up another tomorrow!

Stan Lee: "It's complicated."

As I indicated when I wrote about Stan Lee's death, there are certain criticisms I have about him, but it didn't seem right to bring them up when his life really does deserve to be celebrated.

Stan Lee's most obvious failing was his knack for putting his name on all kinds of terrible products. As more and more time elapsed, he would put his name on an increasingly-large market of subpar products, not only in comics but in film, television and cologne.

But the aspect of Stan Lee's character which I found problematic was his approach to credits. As I noted before, he did a great thing by standardizing creator credits at Marvel Comics - he frequently would talk up the artists who collaborated with him. Virtually all of his collaborators found him a very fine guy.

The way in Stan wrote comic books was to provide artists with a rough idea of what the plot could be, then he would dialogue the pages as they came in. It became called the "Marvel Method" but it was primarily a means to an end - Stan didn't have the time to type up full plots/scripts. Fortunately, artists like Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko & Don Heck didn't require any hand-holding, they could throw together the pages on their own. Kirby in particular would offer suggestions for dialogue and we know from existing samples that Stan would often take Kirby's suggestions.

The problems began as Marvel Comics became famous and the media started approaching Stan. Stan eagerly adopted the role of spokesman for comics, but because journalists didn't understand much about how comics were made, they tended to assume Stan was the person most responsible for the comics - heck, they'd even assume he drew the comics unless expressly told otherwise. What Stan was doing was a collaboration and the media didn't quite get it - and they definitely didn't get how heavily skewed the collaboration was towards the artists' strength.

The problem deepened as Stan would, as he often said, "take any credit that wasn't nailed down." He would shrug off his credit-stealing by blaming his faulty memory, but there was a definite change in how he spoke about his creations over time; in the 1960s, he readily admitted Dr. Strange was 100% Steve Ditko and the Silver Surfer was 100% Jack Kirby - but more and more, he would refer to himself as "the" creator of the Marvel Comics super heroes. It's understandable why he thought this, because the concepts frequently originated in his mind, then he would ask an artist to develop the idea. But those characters did not really exist until the artists visualized Stan's idea and plotted out their adventures.

Detractors of Jack KIrby & Steve Ditko have often pointed to their post-Marvel work as being inferior. I recall several people complaining to me about Kirby's scripting on The Eternals back when I ran an Eternals fan page. But heck, the Eternals, Devil Dinosaur, New Gods, the Question, the Creeper - those characters may not be as good as the 1960s Marvel super heroes, but they're a thousand times better than anything Stan Lee created after 1972.

It's a difficult thing to talk about, even now - the weird alchemy of time and place and of writer and artist (colorist too, for that matter); what makes a Stan Lee/Jack Kirby super-villain instantly memorable and a Stan Lee/Don Heck super-villain instantly forgettable?

Because Stan Lee was such a wonderfully friendly person and because journalists weren't usually educated on how the comics were made, it was difficult to discuss these matters throughout Stan's life. I recall being amazed at Jonathan Ross' documentary In Search of Steve Ditko because Ross actually tried to pin down Stan during an interview - it's the only time I've ever seen footage of Stan Lee with a camera on him and uncomfortable about it.

Some people try to turn these questions into "are you pro-Stan or anti-Kirby" etc. I have no interest in that. I definitely agree they did their best work together, and I likewise adore Lee/Ditko. (Lee/Romita, Lee/Maneely & Lee/Colan were pretty good too) But now that Stan has passed away and I've taken this off my chest, I don't think it will bother me too much... except for all the times in the future where I'll see the phrase "Marvel Universe credited by Stan Lee" and sigh a little. There are so many more creators to talk about. So many.

Unearthed: "The Man Who Captured Death"

"The Man Who Captured Death!" is one of my all-time favourite comic book stories. It was originally presented in Amazing Adult Fantasy #9 (1962), but I first discovered it as a reprinted back-up feature in Astonishing Tales #21 (1973). It's by Stan Lee & Steve Ditko.

It's a very simple tale: an old inventor in his laboratory wants to continue his research but he realizes his time is running short. "If only I could triumph over death!" he remarks. His final project is to complete a large sphere which emits a beam of energy. Exhausted, he falls asleep.

Awakening, the old man sees Death himself before him, having taken a corporeal body with green skin and wearing a long black cloak. Death explains: "Only once in every mortal's lifetime does he glimpse me... and this is your moment! Now come, professor -- come to me!" But the inventor activates his last invention and it immobilizes Death within a barrier. Death protests, warning the inventor he doesn't realize "what forces" he's tampering with, but the inventor can only see the advantage: "So long as you are my captive, the world need never fear death again!"

And this is true! Death no longer has any effect on the Earth... and so, beetles become immune to pesticides and devour crops unfazed. Predatory animals increase in strength. Rats multiply at a frightening rate. Viruses in sick people's bodies can't be eliminated. Hospitals are overcrowded with the infirm, unable to die.

From his television set, the inventor sees the chaos he's unwittingly unleashed on the Earth. Horrified, he realizes Death was correct; he deactivates his device, releasing Death from its prison. Rather than approaching the old man in a spirit of menace, Death places an arm around the old man and speaks words of comfort: "I shall bring you -- peace! As I have brought so many others before you --" and guides the old man into death.
Thoughts: Many of the Lee/Ditko stories in Amazing Adult Fantasy are of this quality, telling a very simple fable in an economical, elegant manner. This one, however, has really remained with me. The inventor's triumph over Death is ultimately a greedy act, the old trying to place their desires ahead of the young. I love that the old man comes to the realization of his wrong and corrects all of this himself, rather than being forced or coerced into the proper action. In this 5-page story the unnamed inventor undergoes character development which many Marvel characters with decades of stories under their belts have never achieved.
I had wanted to cover this story on the blog at some point - perhaps in a series of posts on my favourite Steve Ditko stories - but considering the subject matter and the recent death of Steve Ditko, I can think of no better time than now to bring it up. I hope that for Ditko, death came upon him gently and granted him peace. Seek this one out, it is Ditko at his finest.

90 Years of Ditko

Steve Ditko died recently, at the age of 90. He chose to be reclusive and it's believed he'd been dead for two days at the time the police found his body.

I was exposed to Ditko's work pretty early in my life as a comic book fan thanks to reprints of his Amazing Spider-Man stories which were then appearing in Marvel Tales. Over time I saw his work in various places - and being principally a fan of Marvel Comics, that meant a lot of strange Marvel Comics Presents and Marvel Super-Heroes inventory stories.

Gradually it began to dawn upon me: "Hey, this guy is Steve Ditko, he created Spider-Man and Doctor Strange." I began to carry a sense of reverence for him, the way every Marvel fan is encouraged to revere Stan Lee, Jack Kirby & Steve Ditko as the three most important figures in Marvel history (we're almost never told to think about Larry Lieber; Don Heck is usually brought up as a scapegoat; John Buscema is considered great, but late to the party). I would say that by the early 1990s I had a healthy understanding of Ditko's existance and major contributions to Marvel. And yet, I wouldn't have called myself a fan.

Steve Ditko's artwork has always stood out. Although there are many artists who can convincingly imitate Jack Kirby and seem to have great fun at it, there are so few 'Ditkoesque' artists and usually they are only attempting to reference specific covers/panels which Ditko drew, not his general sense of aesthetics. Again, Ditko is one of the most important artists in comics history. Everyone from Wally Wood to Will Eisner is lovingly homaged in the works of contemporary artists, but most artists leave Ditko alone; only Ditko could ever be Ditko.

I began to truly transform into a Ditko fan after reading the reprint series Doctor Strange Classics, which republished a 12-chapter Doctor Strange story from Strange Tales by Lee & Ditko. I was amazed to discover how long the serial had gone on and how every chapter stood on its own as a fast-paced fantasy adventure tale brimming with big ideas. As a fan of continuity in all things, I was particularly fascinated at the the amount of world-building, of the little moments which explained the limitations of Doctor Strange's powers and introduced various other mystics who lived on the periphery of Strange's adventures. There was a sense that the people inhabiting Lee & Ditko's Doctor Strange had lives transcending the boundaries of the panels, that their universe was much more vast than the typical Silver Age comic book series.

More than anything, I began to appreciate the ways in which other comic books Ditko drew were clearly in-continuity with his more famous Silver Age works. That is, the mystical world of dragons found in his 'Dragon Lord' story for Fantastic Four is entirely in-keeping with the mystical realms found in Doctor Strange; his Speedball villains were not all that different from his Spider-Man, Creeper or Blue Beetle villains. If the Dimensional Man were to round a corner and discover the Question waiting for him it wouldn't be all that surprising.

When Marvel began the first publication of Essential Spider-Man I was there and finally able to appreciate the Lee/Ditko Amazing Spider-Man from the beginning and in sequence, which raised my estimation of that comic book run to a considerable degree; Spider-Man is a character I've enjoyed at various times but don't have a particularly strong affection for -- that is, unless we're talking about Lee & Ditko's Spider-Man, the young, frustrated, wise-cracking, depressed bundle of contradictions found in those issues, which are certainly the pillars upon which the sub-genre of 'novice super hero' were built.

Then I began to delve deep into Marvel's history of science fiction/fantasy/horror tales of the 1950s & 60s, an avenue which is still quite fascinating to me. Although many of the stories I read were primarily of interest academically, Steve Ditko's stories tended to be the most thought-provoking in terms of ideas and page layouts. In many of his fantasy stories, Ditko played around with the conventions of comic book storytelling and it definitely stood out against the more conventional artists.

By then I was on the internet and began to hear about Ditko's personality. Since he was such a private person, much of his story was being told by others, with frequent errors, omissions and miss-attributions. It was difficult to gain an understanding of who Ditko truly was, but I definitely learned to admire his principles. I could not and cannot subscribe to his objectivist beliefs, but I admired that he had a moral code he attempted to live by and that he would take a principled stand when he felt he had to.

It was a bit deflating when I began reading Ditko's creator-owned works. After reading all of his Mr. A stories I was definitely a little less infatuated with Ditko's work as a whole. Of course, what I see as the flaw of Mr. A, Ditko no doubt saw as the entire point. That is, in Mr. A stories and other objectivist tracts, Ditko is unable to convey a persuasive argument to his audience because objectivism is, by its nature, unwilling to stoop low enough to curry a person's favour. There are great ideas in his various philosophical works, but they'd be even better if Ditko weren't the scripter; but then, the entire reason they exist is because Ditko himself needed to tell them.

I bought several of Ditko's latter-day works published with Robin Snyder, including several of the Kickstarter-backed projects. At some point I decided I had enough of them for my collection as they really don't vary that much from one book to the next: here's a straw man objectivist argument; next up, Ditko trolls his audience with a 'u mad?' cartoon. Over and over. There were still traces of his vibrancy and it was unmistakably pure Ditko, but it wasn't polished Ditko. Ditko's latter-day work is amazing primarily because he kept producing it into his 90th year while most of his contemporaries were dead or retired.

Ditko's weird alien dimensions, dark trenchcoat-wearing figures, nervously sweating businessmen, gesticulating fingers, bedeviling mystical bolts - the elements in Ditko's unique style are what first drew me in. Those clean lines, efficient layouts and inventive ideas kept me engaged. As Ditko has died, we have lost the last truly awesome talent of the Silver Age. There are a handful other talents from that time still with us, but none with Ditko's impact on the medium. Fortunately, his work is very easy to come by.

Cheers, Mr. Ditko.

A few of my earlier posts about Ditko's works:
Captain Glory #1
The Destructor #1
The Destructor #2
The Destructor #3
The Destructor #4
...Ditko Continued...
Ditko Public Service Package
Doctor Strange Classics #2
Mr. A #18
Morlock 2001 and the Midnight Men #3
Murder #1-3
Out of This World #20 & 25
Static
Strange Avenging Tales #1
Tales of the Mysterious Traveler #19
Tigerman #2
Tigerman #3
Tomb of Dracula #2
What Is... the Face #1

Do Not Panic! Steve Ditko is 90!

This week Steve Ditko celebrated his 90th birthday! Ditko is one of the few living comic book creators who can unequivocally be termed "living legend." Although best-known for being the creator of Doctor Strange and co-creator of Spider-Man, Ditko's unique artistic styles have keep him a perpetually devoted (albeit shrinking) fanbase. He still publishes comic books to this day, as I have occasionally pointed out on this blog. Ditko's unique perspectives, his way of depicting alien realms, his lightness of touch matched with grotesqueries and, of course, those expressive fingers he draws have made their mark upon my mind. If Jack Kirby was not the greatest comic book artist of all-time, then surely Steve Ditko is.

One of my early favourites is the story "Do Not Panic!" which first appeared in Strange Tales #95 (1962), although I first encountered it as a reprint in Curse of the Weird #1 (1994). Stan Lee was scripter and signed his name, as he often did on Ditko tales.

From a worm's eye perspective we see people panicking as an otherworldly craft descends from the skies. From there the perspective moves to people indoors listening intently to radio broadcasts of the craft's descent; people lock their doors. A squad of tanks arrive to encircle the craft at its landing sight. It's very much in the spirit of The Day the Earth Stood Still.

A lone astronaut emerges from the craft, clad from head to toe in a spacesuit. The wary soldiers demand he drop his gun belt; the astronaut politely complies. Offering friendship, the astronaut removes his helmet to reveal he is a normal-looking human man. The soldiers are Martians and the setting has, from the start, been upon Mars rather than Earth.

"Do Not Panic!" is only four pages and it's the right length. The story has a very simple premise and the tale gets in and out right on cue. Ditko was very careful to avoid depicting the Martians' faces until the last panel, but he did so in ways which would not tip the readers off to the twist - the lack of faces simply adds to the sense of paranoia gripping the populace. This tale is representative of many of those which Ditko produced for Atlas (nearly all of them scripted by Lee). These tales were almost all based around a very simple twist ending, but sometimes that twist could be unclear or require too much explanation at the climax. Here, the twist is told entirely through visuals, not text and that makes this a particularly special thing in comic books, a medium where all-too-often emphasis is placed on text instead of image.

Do enjoy your ninetieth year, Mr. Ditko.

Dracula Month Day 13: Tomb of Dracula (magazine) #2

To close the lid on my look at Marvel Comics' Tomb of Dracula I'm moving to the black & white Tomb of Dracula magazine which succeeded the comic book series. Specifically, I'm interested in looking at Tomb of Dracula #2 (1979): "The Dimensional Man" by the usual Tomb of Dracula scribe Marv Wolfman but joined there by the legendary Steve Ditko!

Dracula is virtually a guest star in this story as instead the point-of-view character who carries most of the action is the Dimensional Man, a member of a cult who worship the demon Asmodeus. The Dimensional Man was exposed to demonic energies during a ceremony and became a succubus, feeding on other people's life energies - in that sense, not unlike Dracula. Now against the cult who raised him, the Dimensional Man tries to save his sister from being sacrificed to Asmodeus. Fortunately, the Dimensional Man has help - in the form of Dracula, who had befriended the sister.

Steve Ditko is not Gene Colan; while Colan was a master of the shadows with moody artwork well suited to black & white, Ditko was and is a very bright artist, one whose weird imagery is accentuated by colour. Despite this, Ditko did a fine job adapting himself to the style of a Dracula comic. The Dimensional Man feels like the kind of character Ditko was more comfortable writing about, right down to the hat & coat visual found on other Ditko heroes (The Question, Mr. A). This story stands on its own, not tying into the rest of Marvel's Dracula comics even with Wolfman as the scripter. However, I think it's the best story from the brief 6-issue magazine run simply because Ditko committed himself so readily to this format; if you enjoyed Ditko's other black & white horror magazine work (Creepy, Eerie) you'll want to check this out. As to the Dimensional Man, he's actually turned up a little outside of this story; check out his profile at the Marvel Appendix.

It's no Mystery, Man.

The most recent issue of the fanzine publication Ditkomania recently published its 95th issue with a special look at philosophy in Steve Ditko's comics. I am not one who enjoys Ditko's philosophy (objectivism), especially not in the manner by which he delivers his ideas, usually by way of kicking over a straw man. Overall, I find objectivism incompatible with my own morals. Still, I enjoy Ditko as an artist and value his perspective even though I'll never share it. It was with some trepidation that I approached Ditkomania #95. One article in particular stood out.

In an article titled: "Steve Ditko: The Other Side of the Conversation," Gavin Callaghan looked at various comic books which had some reference to objectivism. Some of these were very interesting, such as his look at the Werewolf by Night villain Hangman, whose objectivist slant wasn't obvious to me. There's also an interesting review of a Star Trek comic which criticized objectivism in way which Callaghan admitted made good points. However, Callaghan truly did not care for a comic called Mystery Men which was published by Marvel Comics in 2011 by writer David Liss and artist Patrick Zircher. For some reason, Callaghan did not credit Zircher or other artists of the stories featured in his article - strange, considering that as a Ditko fan he should be aware that much of what ends up on the page is due to the artist.

Mystery Men turned up in this article solely because objectivism's creator Ayn Rand appears - not identified by name, but with dialogue which clearly points to her identity. In the comic, set in 1932, Rand belongs to a boardroom of prestigious Americans (others may likewise be actual figures from the time but none I could identify) who are being led by the General as part of a cabal to use black magic on behalf of the demon Nox. The boardroom is likewise partnered with the Nazi Party. Callaghan rejected this interpretation of Rand as she was against superstition. Okay, fair enough, although this is a fictional universe where magic is real so it's not quite the same thing. The boardroom members are also proposing a business-military alliance which Callaghan says Rand would also have been against; fair enough.

But in the course of the review Callaghan goes off-topic to deliver a rant against one of Mystery Men's protagonists, a masked vigilante called the Operative. The Operative is meant to be a throwback to the early heroes of the comics and the pulps who had little more than determination and a mask. The Operative is a normal man dressed in a suit and who wears a mask. We first meet him in Mystery Men #1 as he's in the process of stealing jewels from a wealthy woman, justifying it to himself as "This -- this Depression, they're calling it -- is crushing those people down there on the street. But up here in the penthouses, it's jewels and champagne. You can't tell me that's right. So my little capers... well, let's just say I have no trouble sleeping at night." The money the Operative obtains from the jewels is then used to save tenants from being evicted from an apartment building whose landlord has been jacking up the rent. Callaghan complains of this scene:

"Never mind the fact, of course, that these rich people PAY for everything they BUY - thereby providing a living to those from whom they purchase such services. This source of income was an especially valuable thing during a depression; but Liss does not seem to understand this basic economic fact."

I think the key to the Operative's actions in the opening is that he's stealing jewels, not money. The Operative's anger appears to be against those who have inherited wealth, rather than earned it. The Operative is later revealed to be himself a child of privilege, the son of the book's lead villain the General. Callaghan complains about this, though I'm not certain why (he goes from complaining that the Operative is "very wealthy" to a discussion of the General, then about Rand and doesn't return to that point; it looked like a setup for arguing the Operative was a hypocrite but the accusation is absent). The story is very clear that the Operative uses money to help those less fortunate, expressing indignation at those who "don't know what it's like to grow up poor or to claw for everything in life." That actually sounds like an endorsement of objectivist thought to me - not the robbery, but the ideal of earning wealth with one's own effort rather than by right of birth; isn't that something objectivists hold sacred?

The Operative's status as a thieving outlaw seems to draw from the tradition of Robin Hood and A.J. Raffles (both were born to privilege but turned to crime - although Raffles used crime primarily as a diversion, not actually wanting the money or using it to benefit others). On that note, Callaghan turns to Steve Ditko himself in a form of Appeal to Authority:

"Of course, Steve Ditko had already deconstructed this erroneous myth of the Robin Hood (and his just redistribution of wealth) long before, in his story 'Count Rogue', published in Mr. A #4, way back in 1975."

Steve Ditko had an opinion on something? Shoot, better pack it in, boys! It is not necessary for the audience to agree with the Operative's actions. I wouldn't want to be robbed by him simply because he judged someone more worthy of my wealth. In fact, the Operative goes on from issue #1 to become a crime fighter instead of a thief-with-a-heart-of-gold and that journey seems important to me - that he rises above his initial station to later help others. I know, altruism is likewise held in contempt by objectivists and they are also against characters with gray morality (hence the condemnation of the Operative for being other-than-white), but to the rest of the world the Operative is a crook with a barely-justifiable cause who later finds a better cause to fight against (his father).

Callaghan scoffs further at the idea "How the General expects the Depression to actually HELP commerce is left unexplained, although such conspiratorial thinking is typical of the Chomskyan left." I don't know what that last invective means but it is true that some people profited from the Great Depression, just as some recently profited from the recent housing collapse. In the case of the Great Depression, it didn't necessarily mean overnight profits, but for those who could afford to invest and play the long game there were businesses, properties and resources available for a pittance. The General is not proposing the Depression would help commerce - he's proposing it would help him and his allies.

Callaghan continues on to compare the Operative to the Khmer Rouge as an Ad Hominem Attack:

"Ultimately, Liss's 'Operative' vigilante is just a step or two up the rung of the leftist ladder from the Cambodian Khmer Rouge dictatorship in the 1970s, who also sought to build a more 'just' society by exterminating those whom they saw as an overly-wealthy middle class (killing over a million people in the process). Certainly, the Operative is more of a villain than Ayn Rand herself ever was."

How do you even begin to address the comparison of thieving = genocide? This was the point where I knew I had to compose a response because it's such a maddening, reductive argument. Perhaps I can attempt to construct this from an objectivist viewpoint; to an objectivist, A = A. To me as a Christian, sin = sin. Therefore, the crime of thievery = genocide. So far so good. But likewise, Ayn Rand committing adultery = genocide. Ayn Rand promoting a philosophy of selfishness in opposition to the Golden Rule = genocide. That is, Ayn Rand was but a mere human being and I reject her (and Nietzche's) belief in the greatness of man, rather I believe in the democratic equality and falleness of men, the equality of sin, the equality of mercy and the equality of the final judgment. Stealing from others is wrong from an absolute moral sense - it is unnecessary to draw comparisons to genocide and it speaks to a weakness in Callaghan's argument that he deemed it necessary to invoke the Khmer Rouge in order to fashion a straw-man argument against the Operative, rather than confine his diatribe to the Operative's own words and actions. As a whole, I feel Callaghan's review of Mystery Men is too quick to find fault with the book and too angry at the author for holding different social viewpoints.

In conclusion: There's a lot more to Mystery Men than the Operative or Ayn Rand (the Operative is one of 5 featured heroes) and it's an interesting attempt to craft super heroes who fit the 1930s, especially from a 21st century perspective (the heroes include a black hero and a female hero in order to comment on 30s-era racism and sexism). The economic downturn of 2008 - fashioned by the laissez faire system Ayn Rand admired so much - no doubt influenced David Liss' own commentary on the Great Depression and the disproportionate power wielded by the wealthy over the middle-and-lower classes. You can purchase the series on Comixology and can learn more about Ditkomania here.

I have now officially spent more time thinking about Mystery Men than anyone other than Liss or Zircher.

Unearthed: Morlock 2001 and the Midnight Men #3

Why, hello there! I promised you another installment of Unearthed which would delve into those kooky 1970s Atlas Comics, didn't I? Well, we should first recap where we've been:

The Hands of the Dragon #1

The Destructor #1

The Destructor #2

The Destructor #3

The Destructor #4

Tigerman #1

Tigerman #2

Tigerman #3

This time will be a little different as I'm not going back to the first issue of the particular series to follow it from its origins. As you may have noticed, much of my interest in Atlas is to see what Steve Ditko drew for them, which leads us to Morlock 2001 #3, the last issue of that series and the only one Ditko drew. When Mike Sterling recently blogged about this comic I knew I had to see it for myself. So, my ability to recount what happens in this story is somewhat hampered by the fact that I haven't read Morlock 2001 #1-2.

The word "Morlock" naturally comes from H. G. Wells' first novel, The Time Machine. Pairing that public domain moniker with "2001" would hopefully attract either fans of The Time Machine or 2001: A Space Odyssey. But to what end?? To what end?!?

Thanks to my comrades at The Grand Comics Database I can at least know who was responsible for issues #1-2; Mike Fleisher wrote #1-2 & Al Milgrom penciled them. Both men contributed a lot of work to Atlas but it's not for me to say whether their Morlock 2001 was to their credit or not. Let's proceed by examining the cover of Morlock 2001 #3... or, rather, as the cover puts it, Morlock 2001 and the Midnight Men #3! Yes, we've arrived at the point where the series is being retooled, much as the other Atlas books were frequently tinkered with.

The GCD credits the cover to Rich Buckler; our protagonist, Morlock, is lying front and center on the cover which is a good prominent location for him. Unfortunately, he's flat on his back as a masked man declares "To save Morlock I had to kill him!" Which naturally prompts:

This isn't a bad cover at all - it does prompt the reader to pick it up and find out what's going on - is Morlock dead? Are the Midnight Men booting him out of his own comic? A flea-sized company like Atlas had the freedom to tear down its heroes which Marvel & DC comics of the time would not.

The story is titled "Then Came the Midnight Man," courtesy of writer Gary Friedrich, penciler Steve Ditko and... oh my goodness... BERNIE WRIGHTSON as inker! Mr. Wrightson has, unfortunately, announced his retirement from comics this week so this an appropriate time to appreciate his work, especially for the rarity (or is that oddity) of him inking the legendary Ditko. We open on Eugene Whitlock in his private library as a caption informs us in this world, books are banned (so toss Fahrenheit 451 in the blender with the other sci-fi properties I listed). Two men clad in black who represent the Thought Police (add 1984 to the heap) discover Eugene with his treasure trove and accuse him of "high treason," then execute him by turning a flamethrower upon him. I'd like to note above how the credits appear on the covers of the falling books. I like it when a little effort is made to insert the credits into the story.

Outside the home we have our hero Morlock, a man wearing a mix of light & dark blues and silvery hair. Morlock is seeking out Whitlock, hoping Eugene might help him. It seems Morlock has a strange condition where he transforms into a "bestial vegetable form!" (I dunno, maybe toss in Howard Hawks' Thing from Another World?) and while Morlock has a serum to inhibit this transformation the serum is almost gone and he's due to transform soon. Morlock hears Whitlock's screams and realizes he might be too late so withholds using up the last of the serum, figuring that in his monstrous form he might save Whitlock or at least kill the Thought Police. At this point a caption asks "Confused? Well, if you missed our first two issues, hang in there! We promise all will be made clear pretty soon -- we hope!" signed by editor Larry Lieber. Here, Lieber demonstrates some good editorial instincts much like those of his brother to welcome in first-time readers - such as me, 40 years later.

Morlock makes it about five steps before transforming into a monster (no idea what happened to his clothes). He grows two additional arms and looks rather tree-like, similar to what was hinted on the cover. Friedrich's script goes all in: "a nightmarish change from bodily tissue to rotting fungus!" He doesn't look that awful - Ditko was no Bernie Wrightson - but the scripting puts the reader into our hapless hero's shoes to comprehend what it is he's going through. Inside the home, the Thought Police are burning the books when one of them announces a monster has appeared and eaten one of their ranks. The leader sets out to investigate musing "the law says all Thought Police are trustworthy -- and that means I gotta check... even though I know the guy's lost his marbles!" But sure enough, there's Morlock eating one of the Thought Police by pressing it into his body. At this, the leader freezes in place, unable to move. The other Thought Police run away as Morlock winds up eating the leader as well. "His flesh is instantaneously melted by enzymes secreted from the monstrosity that holds him captive -- and in liquid form that flesh is quickly absorbed into the vegetable body of Morlock!" Can you imagine how ghastly this comic would look if Wrightston had penciled it?

Within the house, Whitlock gets up, now just a featureless mass of pink flesh. He's surprised to find he survived being burned alive and muses "I must be close to death! But the shock syndrome will not allow my mind to accept it!" Noticing his clock has stopped at 12:00 he adopts the codename Midnight Man (meanwhile Midnight calls his lawyers) and resolves to raise up an army which will combat the Tribunal which leads the Thought Police. Exiting his house he finds Morlock standing before him, but Morlock collapses to the ground and shrinks back to his human form. Elsewhere, the Thought Police who fled from Morlock return to the Tribunal (three men who sit behind chairs which conceal their faces; The Prisoner?) and relate what happened. The Tribunal believe them, but blow up the policemen's car to keep them silent about Morlock. And with that, the Tribunal begin a recap of what happened in Morlock 2001 #1-2, which is great for people such as I. It seems Morlock emerged from a giant plant pod which came from space (Invasion of the Body Snatchers?). The Tribunal attempted to place Morlock under their control and sent a female agent to win his trust; when Morlock learned she was spying on him for the Tribunal he turned into his monster form and killed her (recalling this recap comes from stories written by Mike Fleisher I'm unfortunately reminded Fleisher was judged a misogynist for the way he depicted female characters in his comics).

Anyway, back to Morlock; he's human again and clad in his blue duds once more. Although Whitlock's home is gone he has a "great refuge" located underground and opens a passageway to the "emergency underground railway." Wait a minute, if he had all these elaborate underground spots why couldn't he have hidden his books down there? Morlock revives as Midnight Man leads him down the steps into the Great Refuge (Inhumans not included). Below, it seems the "railway" was literal as the passage connects to the old subway tunnels of New York and a train car carries Morlock and Midnight Man to their destination.

We return briefly to the Tribunal who are upset to learn Whitlock's corpse was not found in his burned home and there's also no trace of Morlock. Back to the Great Refuge and it seems two days have passed. A female follower of Whitlock's (apparently his opposition to the state consisted of more than book ownership) spends some time with Morlock to befriend him. She should be safe, Fleisher's not writing now. Elsewhere, Midnight Man gathers his followers in a cavern looking something like he's about to begin a witch's Sabbath - but really, he's there to show off his new costume (at least he finally got dressed!) complete with an "MM" over his navel. He's a super hero! A super hero with the power to inexplicably survive third degree burns! Midnight Man summons his followers to join his "revolutionary army" against the Tribunal. He calls his army "the Midnight Men" claiming it's because it's similar to the "Minutemen", but I think he must have read the cover.

Midnight Man returns to Morlock and Felicia (thus naming his female follower) and finally explains he's Eugene Whitlock (Morlock stayed with him for two days without having this conversation?). Midnight Man explains his goal of overthrowing the Tribunal and Morlock agrees; "Our cause is the same!" Midnight Man hopes he might find a means to control Morlock's transformations but warns his plan will mean risking Morlock's life. But back again to the Thought Police - who have found the secret tunnel entrance outside of Whitlock's house! The Tribunal is pleased at this news as the Thought Police pour into the tunnels.

Midnight Man explains his plan to Morlock: there was a second plant pod next to Morlock's which is still in the Tribunal's custody. If they can capture that pod he can cure Morlock; the pod is heavily guarded, but the plan goes no further as the Thought Police break into Midnight Man's base, setting off alarms. The Midnight Men surge into battle but as Midnight Man goes to join them Morlock starts to transform again. "Help me -- don't let me become -- a mindless monster -- again!" With the serum depleted Midnight Man can offer only one solution to Morlock's trouble: "All I can do is to bring your torment and suffering to an end, forever!" So saying, he shoots the monstrous Morlock to death. Yipe! Looks like the Midnight Men really are taking over this comic!

As Midnight Man races to enter the fight, behind him Morlock's body reverts to its human form. Midnight Man doesn't believe his Midnight Men stand a chance against the invading Thought Police so there's only one solution: "Destroy our refuge -- and myself and my followers along with it! With the pressing of this button -- all hope for free-thinking mankind is ended! Yet -- better death than slavery on the surface!" So Midnight Man pushes the detonator and thus, the horribly disfigured person who wears a mask has activated a bomb to seemingly kill off the entire cast (Beneath the Planet of the Apes). Is this the end of Morlock and the Midnight Men? According to the final blurb, "Don't bet your last two bits on it!" They promise more next issue, but... there is no "next issue." I guess Morlock and Midnight Man are both dead. The Tribunal won. Well ain't that a kick in the groin?

There is a letters page in this issue and much of it features complaints about issues #1-2. More than one reader complains about Milgrom's art ("I happen to be an Allen Milgrom fan, but the stuff is not up to par" writes one). Complaints are also raised about the obvious recycling of other science fiction concepts ("In fact, you should give George Orwell some credit in the front of your mag. It is obviously based on his world of the police state and 'double think'" writes another). Another complains about the poor distribution of Atlas Comics, finding it difficult to locate them on the stands. Indeed, the staff at Atlas complained about Marvel deliberately flooding the marketplace with additional titles (mostly reprints which were cheap to produce) to help crowd Atlas off the racks.

Thoughts: Gary Friedrich has his detractors but I am not one of them. As the many quotes I pulled may suggest, I enjoyed his scripting, especially when he delved into the horror of Morlock the muck-monster. I don't know quite what to make of Midnight Man but there's something endearing about the idea of this character who is introduced seemingly to be bumped off on page 1 but instead becomes a costumed freedom fighter who basically takes over the book. The many obvious allusions to popular science fiction films & novels don't really help the story but I imagine most of them came to Friedrich from Fleisher.

Much as I love Ditko's artwork he's not quite right for muck-monsters. Ditko could do horror - his work on the Warren mags proved that - but a plant-like monster needs to appear soft and round on the pages, which is an ill match for Ditko harsh, triangular lines. Wrightson helps to some extent and his influence is most keenly felt on Midnight Man's burns. Ditko's more in his element with the Thought Police and the Tribunal who both look like they stepped out of one of Ditko's breezy sci-fi strips.

This brings my series of Unearthed posts on Atlas Comics to an end, for now. Unearthed will be back eventually. If you liked this, make sure you've read my other Atlas posts which I linked above.

Consider His Ways: The Many Moods of Tigerman

If you follow this blog, you know I just finished looking at the complete run of the Atlas Comics series Tigerman through my occasional series Unearthed. In the course of reviewing Tigerman #1, Tigerman #2 and Tigerman #3 I found myself looking at a series which had potential but was crippled by a very poor first issue. At its best, Tigerman was an average 1970s super hero comic.

But before I carry on to a different Atlas comic, shall we consider Tigerman one last time? Rhetorical question, I suppose. Better close this browsing window now if you can't bear thinking about Tigerman again!

In Understanding Comics Scott McCloud wrote about how we perceive cartoon characters in terms of how close they approach realism, from characters who are photorealistic to the more cartoony or abstract. Quoth McCloud: "Through traditional realism, the comics artist can portray the world without -- and through the cartoon, the world within." It occurred to me that with Tigerman we have a character who wavers well between realism and cartoon. As a man wearing a mask his face is not a human face (many masked comic book characters likewise have this condition). However, his mask is supposed to be made from that of a tiger and the tiger's face is, at times, drawn to appear realistic. Let us consider the moods which are expressed through Tigerman's seemingly static features..

Mood the first: Distraught

We are about to look at the cover of Tigerman #1 again. I'm sorry too.

Art by Ernie Colon

As Colon drew it, the tiger head had no ability to contort itself according to mood. In his attempt to make Tigerman appear distraught at his sister's death he depicted him with his heading nodding forward, mouth open. Unfortunately, while these would work well on a human face, on Tigerman his blank eyes and triangular mouth cause him to appear freakish, his emotions inscrutable.

Mood the second: Angry

Art by Ernie Colon

The most common feature on Tigerman's face throughout the series is an angry look. The animal face, the sharp fangs and blank eyes give him a limited range of expressions, but as a murderous super hero the ferocious face suits him well.

Mood the third: Pensive

Art by Ernie Colon

Here's an example of Colon's strengths as an artist (when much of Tigerman displays his weaknesses). In order to show Tigerman trying to play detective and find his sister's killers, Colon grants him a pensive expression by simply draping a hand before his mouth. Tigerman's mouth is the single least-human part of his mask so this also renders him more human in appearance.

Mood the fourth: Contemplative?

Art by Ernie Colon

Then we have Tigerman standing before one of the men who killed his sister. Here, we see the mask has become truly expressionless as the mouth has been diminished down to a single line. Is he tensing up for a fight? Is he boiling over in anger? Is he staring at that cowboy's crotch? The face tells us nothing.

Mood the fifth: Determined

Art by Frank Thorne

Frank Thorne's one-and-only visual of Tigerman is somewhat different from the other artists, most notably in the fuzzy, white muzzle on the tiger face. Under Colon, Tigerman looked like a man wearing a tiger's face over his own; Thorne makes him appear as a humanoid tiger.

Mood the sixth: Fearsome

Art by Steve Ditko & Frank Giacoia

I'm very fond of this image by Ditko where Tigerman's eyes are solid colored as Colon frequently depicted them and yet under Ditko's pen he appears more animal-like rather than the "dull surprise" of Colon. What Ditko seemed to realize better than Colon was how to manipulate the expressions of the tiger face, here curling Tigerman's brown to emphasize his ferocity. Colon eschewed these sorts of expressions in favour of letting the mask appear realistic, but Ditko's is the more worthy choice in terms of suggesting to the audience what the character is feeling.

Mood the seventh: Concerned?

Art by Larry Lieber

Larry Lieber's Tigerman is a fairly stock super hero character but he makes the most of the figure's facial features, putting some detail into Tigerman's brow and his eyes to convey his mood as he leaps to the rescue of a falling man.

Mood the eighth: Impish?

Art by Steve Ditko & Al Milgrom

The downside of Al Milgrom's inking is that he bringsin distracting details which subtract from Ditko's more malleable faces. Here, the curvy lines Milgrom used to fashion Tigerman's muzzle render him a bit too cartoony to fit the role of angsty super hero who just brought a burn victim to a hospital.

Mood the ninth: Enraged

Art by Steve Ditko & Al Milgrom

When Ditko revisited the scenes from #1 where Tigerman killed his sister's murderers, Ditko came up with this very fine grimace with Tigerman sporting a very upset brow. Here too, the animal-like muzzle on Tigerman's face is used to good effect- with his mouth open the curvy line of his expression makes him seem to be smiling, in contrast to his furrowed brow. Taken together, Tigerman seems to be emotionally out-of-control with bloodlust, which fits the direction the series was going as the character explored his compulsion to kill.

Mood the tenth: Triumphant

Art by Steve Ditko & Al Milgrom

The series ends with Tigerman exhibiting relief; the villain is over and now he can have a good rest in comic book limbo until some jerk drags his back issues out and talks smack about him on the internet. With Tigerman seen from below looking up at his open mouth and eyes so thin they almost seem to be squinting, Tigerman's expression is difficult to read but helpfully his left hand is clenched into a raised fist, which we understand as a gesture of triumph or defiance.