Author: gasp65

Hot Streak: Creig Flessel’s Detective Comics

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« The criminal is a creative artist; detectives are just critics. » — Hannu Rajaniemi

This time, we’re going way back to the dawn of DC Comics, when the company name stood for its flagship title… Detective Comics.

This is when the company’s visionary but hapless founder, Major Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson, was still around, before Harry Donenfeld and his crony Yakov (Jack) Liebowitz had the locks changed.

While that chain of events is a fascinating bit of history, what I’m here to celebrate is a sequence of classic covers by recent — 2024 recent — Will Eisner Comic Awards Hall of Fame inductee Creig Valentine Flessel (1912-2008). Flessel produced eighteen of the first nineteen Detective Comics covers (the premiere issue bore a striking, but rather primitive drawing by associate editor Vin Sullivan), visibly gaining assurance and verve as he sped along. By my reckoning, however, it’s only with the eleventh issue that he solidly hit his stride, which he never let up until the assignment passed into other hands… and then came Batman.

Anyway, here they are: no hand-holding, no patronising, superfluous captions… just graphic purity — and sweat-soaked, pulpy thrills galore.

This is Detective Comics no. 11 (Jan. 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 12 (Feb. 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 13 (Mar. 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 14 (Apr. 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 15 (May 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 16 (June 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 17 (July 1938, DC).
This is Detective Comics no. 18 (Aug. 1938, DC). Even as a relatively sheltered white teenager, I could easily tell that Sax Rohmer‘s Fu Manchu stories were racist (and sexist as well) « Yellow Peril » tripe… even in the context of their era, they went the extra mile.
This is Detective Comics no. 19 (Sept. 1938, DC), Flessel’s final cover for the title.

Flessel would turn up all over the place. Gary Groth writes, introducing his definitive, career-spanning Flessel interview:

« Flessel never became an auteur with a truly recognizable narrative voice or characters that he could call entirely his own. He was so skilled and versatile that he became an artistic chameleon, a commercial propensity that served him well throughout his career. He wrote and drew stories for the earliest published comic books: More Fun, Detective Comics and Adventure; worked for the advertising firm of Johnstone and Cushing; assisted Al Capp on Li’l Abner and worked with Charlie Biro on Crime Does Not Pay in the ’50s; spent the ’60s and early ’70s drawing David Crane, a comic strip about a minister in a small town and segued seamlessly into an eight-year gig doing The Tales of Baron Von Furstinbed for Playboy. »

Detail (the whole spread would have been impossible to scan properly) from one of Flessel’s long-running series of Eveready Batteries adverts, done in the employ of the celebrated Johnstone and Cushing ad agency (this one’s from 1951). On his The Fabulous Fifties blog, Ger Apeldoorn showcases a number of these lovelies — check ’em out!
Flessel turned up as Jerry Grandenetti‘s inker on my favourite issue of Joe Simon and Grandenetti’s much-maligned, short-lived but quite charming Prez (no. 4, Feb.-Mar. 1974, DC). Notwithstanding the — intentionally — fanciful elements of the Wild in the Streets-inspired social satire, old hand Simon had a much firmer grasp on how politics actually work than did any of the earnest, self-consciously ‘relevant’ comics writers of the day. And one can only sigh nostalgically at days when the worst thing that might slither into the White House was a mere vampire…

Flessel’s ability to depict ladies of the buxom and comely variety had certainly played a role in his landing a gig assisting Al Capp on Lil’ Abner for a couple of years in the late 1950s. At the time, Capp spent much of his time touring college campuses and berating the younger set, as was his wont.

Said virtuosity in the light-hearted and erotic stood him in good stead for an eight-year gig on The Tales of Baron Von Furstinbed for The Playboy Funnies; this one’s from the January, 1983 issue of Playboy Magazine. And here’s another, for good measure.

In closing, a brief exchange from The Comics Journal interview — please do go and read the whole thing, it’s a gem!

GROTH: I have a note that you had something to do with Superboy from 1958 to ’59.

FLESSEL: I did one. You know, it’s frightening; it’s like going out and drinking a lot of martinis and doing a job and not remembering.

-RG

New Words for a New Year!

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« I find vocabulary to be a great drawback. » — Elizabeth Taylor

I think most of us will concur — sorry, Liz — that a rich vocabulary is a useful asset on multiple levels. And in riding with that particular train of thought, if a new year brings new goals and resolutions to achieve them, what could be more judicious and feasible than picking up a handful of new words… and their proper meaning?

Cartoonist Mickey Bach (1909-1994) made it his mission to help the newspaper-reading masses bone up on unusual vocables. While he’s never ranked among the cartooning greats, the premise of his feature, Word-a-Day, was a rock-solid one, granting the panel a healthy run from 1946 to 1979, first with the Publishers Syndicate until 1967, when it merged with the Hall Syndicate*.

It’s also worth noting that, for a feature that’s been officially defunct for some forty-five years, it’s a pretty lively one: an admirably devoted and industrious fan has kept the Word-a-Day flame alive with the Word A Day Revisited Index. Kudos!

As far as I can tell, there was only one Word-a-Day collection published, but it was a successful one. First published by Scholastic Book Services in 1965 and comprising selections from 1960 to 1963, it received at least four printings through 1972, this being the fourth, from April of that year.

Let’s see what lies within, shall we?

Part of the nostalgic fun in these images is their reliable repertory company of cartooning archetypes such as sandwich men, hobos, boxers, cranky bosses, talent agents, bearskin rugs, door-to-door salesmen, masked burglars, beret-sporting artistes…
Ah, yes: that nagging feeling that we, as a society, are somehow regressing rather than progressing.
Bach had a somewhat generic, but pleasant and competent cartoon style, wherein I detect the great Bill Holman as a principal influence. Bach clearly was a man of discernment.

Don’t be that boorish chump: here’s a handy guide to tipping étiquette from no less an authority than Emily Post (not to be confused with Emily Ghost).
This one’s a particular favourite of mine, having had to correct its misuse time and again; apparently, some people have surmised (without checking, naturally) that ‘fulsome’ means, ‘full’, only more so and in a fancier way. No, guys, ‘a fulsome investigation will be conducted‘ does not signify what you think it does.
Derived from the French ‘Gasconnade’, which refers pejoratively to the speech of denizens of the Gascony region. « Speaking with the Gascon accent, which is to say accentuating silent ‘e’s, and letting ring out several final consonants that the French leave silent. »
I find this one particularly clever.
This one’s considered archaic nowadays — when it is considered at all — though its close relative, insipid, endures. Not to be confused with its homophone, incipience, which refers to the beginning of something.

Sadly, Gorilla will likely pound the erudition out of that unfortunate pugilist.
Here’s a sentiment most reasonable the world over are currently experiencing, to their chagrin.

« There could be no jealousy/over my poetry/it’s my weakest quality/no vocabulary » — Todd Rundgren, Chapter and Verse

From both of us at WOT?, thanks for your continued support and interest, and may the coming year bring you as little as possible of what you’re dreading.

-RG

* It’s actually considerably more complex: « In 1963 Chicago-based Field Enterprises and New York Herald Tribune publisher John Hay Whitney acquired Publishers Syndicate, merging syndication operations with Field’s Chicago Sun-Times Syndicate, the New York Herald Tribune Syndicate, and the syndicate of the Chicago Daily News (a newspaper that had been acquired by Field Enterprises in 1959). When the New York Herald Tribune folded in 1966, Publishers inherited their strips, including Johnny Hart‘s B.C., Mell Lazarus‘ Miss Peach, and Harry Haenigsen‘s Penny.

In 1967, Field Enterprises acquired Robert M. Hall‘s New York-based Hall Syndicate, merging it with Publishers to form the Publishers-Hall Syndicate. » Phew.

Everybody Knows Leadfoot Larry!

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« In World War One, they called it shell shock. Second time around, they called it battle fatigue. After ‘nam, it was post-traumatic stress disorder. » — Jan Karon

Jerry Grandenetti‘s whirlwind passage through the halls of Charlton (circa early 1966) was barely noticed, let alone commented upon. Ah, but it nonetheless was interesting. Grandenetti, frustrated with his limited prospects in illustrating war scripts for Bob Kanigher at DC, was in the middle of trying to expand his client base and break away from the obvious constraints of dealing with a petty tyrant. He was also eager to let his style evolve naturally, which certainly wasn’t going to happen in the pages of Star-Spangled War Stories.

And so, in 1966, Grandenetti, while keeping active at DC, passed through Tower (Fight the Enemy), Gold Key (The Twilight Zone), Marvel (Tales to Astonish: both The Hulk and Namor), Warren (Creepy and Eerie), though much of that work was ghosted for Joe Orlando and only revealed to be Jerry’s own… well after the fact.

For my money — and it won’t surprise anyone — the most unhampered and noteworthy art he created over that year was at Charlton. Here’s a sample!

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« Leadfoot Larry » was written by Joe Gill and inked by Jon D’Agostino.

While I prefer Grandenetti’s own inks (unless Wally Wood or Murphy Anderson are on the table!) over his pencils, future Archie stalwart Jon D’Agostino (1929-2010) performs a slick job that doesn’t smother Jerry’s pencils. A pair of romance stories saw him unfortunately saddled with indifferent Vince Alascia, but a teaming with Rocco Mastroserio proved attractive. The crown jewel of the ’60s Grandenetti Charltons was a sixteen-pager purporting to tell « The True Story of Jesse James! », wherein JG got to ink himself.

For me, what sets « Leadfoot Larry » apart is that it’s a character piece, the hot rodding taking a back seat to the — often underlying — themes of PTSD, sound reason pitted against blind rage, trust, maturity and responsibility facing callowness and cowardly chaos… with the sobering conclusion that you just can’t reason with some people. In typical Joe Gill fashion, most of the issues are circumstantial… they don’t explode into melodramatics. It’s not a perfect world, nor should it be, but one I’d rather inhabit, given the choice.

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Here’s the issue it’s from, Hot Rod Racers no. 8 (Apr.-May 1966, Charlton). Despite being cobbled together from interior art, the cover manages to be pretty striking. Pat Masulli, editor.

-RG

Welcome to Virgil and Sigmund’s Cocktail Party!

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« If Freud had worn a kilt in the prescribed Highland manner he might have had a very different attitude to genitals. » — Woodrow Wilson

Let’s talk about your drinking.

Aw, just kidding: that’s your business and none of mine. There’s certainly no shortage of reasons — or might these be excuses? — for it nowadays. Speaking of which, here’s the recipe for the Freudian Slip Cocktail, which is presumably what ol’ Sigmund is shown energetically mixing up below. Cul sec, friends!

Virgil Partch‘s « Sigmund Freud’s Cocktail Party » originally appeared in Playboy Magazine’s August, 1962 issue.

Let’s keep it straight. Check out Exhibitionism: Misconceptions and Tips to Practice Safely.
More on the subject with Introvert vs Extrovert: A Look at the Spectrum & Psychology.
Let’s skip the envy… the theory of wish fulfillment gives us more to chew on, so to speak..
What are compulsions? As if you didn’t know…
Here’s What You Should Know About the Oedipus Complex (the fancier, more scientific appellation).
I love that chair! Why don’t you take a seat and peruse A Brief Introduction to Dissociation?
The Herd instinct or How cultivated individuals can become barbarians in a crowd… tell me about it! (is that Bea Arthur in the light green dress?)
Meet The Invisible Wall of Psychological Resistance and wail.
Yes, good old self-sabotage. Try, if you’ll allow yourself,Taming the Inner Storm: Strategies for Managing Internal Conflict.
« Hallucination, the experience of perceiving objects or events that do not have an external source… »
A common affliction in superheroes, one would expect. Here’s a piece about Sigmund’s take on the concept.
Ask yourself this: Are you subconsciously seeking out rejection?
A sizzling double header of Why You May Act Immature During Anxiety-Provoking Situations and The Instinct Theory of Agression. Watch the fur fly!
And finally, Freud’s hysteria and its legacy. Good night everyone, and where’s that designated driver at?

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 31

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« A dead body revenges not injuries. » — William Blake

« Do you end every Hallowe’en Countdown with Steve Ditko? », ds reasonably asked me last month. Well, no, I replied, but it generally plays out that way since, by my reckoning, nothing embodies the spirit of this finest of holidays quite like a sepulchral Joe Gill – Steve Ditko yarn.

My heartfelt thanks to all our guests — visitors, readers and contributors — who made this breakneck endeavour possible… in particular ds, who shouldered a significant part of the load and came through with flying, but appropriately sombre, colours.

Take it away, Messrs Gill, Ditko and Dedd!

Yes, it’s your basic ‘greedy relative’ plot, but perfectly executed. And the late Mr. Strick would surely concur about the ‘perfectly executed’ part.
And since the cover gives away a bit too much, here it is, after the story. This is Ghostly Tales no. 103 (Apr. 1973, Charlton). Cover by Steve Ditko, naturally.

And we have one more countdown concluded against soul-searing odds. Now, if you’re craving more, you insatiable ghouls, feel free — could we stop you even if we tried? — to slobber amidst our back pages, at this point numbering two hundred and forty-eight posts :

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII

Hallowe’en Countdown VII

Hallowe’en Countdown VI

Hallowe’en Countdown V

Hallowe’en Countdown IV

Hallowe’en Countdown III

Hallowe’en Countdown II

Hallowe’en Countdown I

Wishing you all a spine-rattling Hallowe’en — all your verminous loitering was deeply appreciated!

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 29

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« There’s a saying among prospectors: ‘Go out looking for one thing, and that’s all you’ll ever find.‘ » — Robert J. Flaherty

Here’s a rarely-seen Stephen R. Bissette gem, The Prospector’s Luckiest Strike! I wasn’t aware of its existence until recently, when I chanced to purchase an issue of Scholastic’s Bananas devoted entirely to comics. It turned out to hold a pair of Bissette aces, the other being A Toast to Mr. Dalyrimple!. I wondered why these dark lovelies had been left out of Eclipse’s 1985-86 Fearbook and Bedlam, collections of Scholastic material. Were they too recent?

As it turned out, these remaining tales were soon gathered in a one-shot anthology entitled Deadtime Stories (Nov. 1987) published by the short-lived New Comics Group (1987-1989).

Note the discreet, elegant use of photo backgrounds here and there.

I turned to the artist for his recollections, which he most generously provided:

« Scholastic Magazines was one of the luckiest strikes I ever had in my early freelance career, that’s for sure! Between the generous page rates (best I’d earned from any publisher at that time, better even than Heavy Metal), the very kind people I was fortunate enough to be working with—editors Bob and Jane Stine (Bob was later better known as R.L. Stine, author of the Goosebumps empire), art director Bob Feldgus, writers like Suzanne Lord, and everyone at Scholastic at that time—and the frequency of steady freelance assignments from them, I couldn’t have hallucinated a better, more rewarding work relationship or environment in my wildest dreams.

“The Prospector’s Luckiest Strike” was late in the game for me, among the Suzanne Lord scripts I was assigned, and I gave it my all for a variety of reasons. First of all, it was exciting to be invited to contribute not one but two stories to the “all comics” issue, and even more exciting because of my friend Howard Cruse doing the cover and a one-pager, closer-still friends Tom Yeates, John Totleben, and Rick Veitch also contributing top-notch work, and Alyse Newman, Bob Taylor, and John Holmstrom (hey, I was a fan of Punk Magazine) also in the lineup. It was an unusual venture and sounded like a great issue, and Bob, Jane, and Bob F. were so enthusiastic about doing it — well, that was contagious. 

The issue in question, with its rollicking Howard Cruse cover.

The deadlines were tight, and I’m not entirely happy with my second story in the issue (Rick Veitch still mocks my splash page for “Mr. Dalyrimple,” justifiably so), but “Prospector’s Luckiest Strike” turned out to be one of my best jobs for Bob, Jane, and Bob. 

It was, sadly, also among the last. Bananas #54 came out in 1982, if memory serves, and I was amid a really screwy project with Marvel at the time (the never-completed, never-published Titan Science Project), and one year later I was both a new father (our firstborn, Maia, born at home April 1983) and working on my first collaborative Saga of the Swamp Thing issues, major life changes, to say the least. »

A huge thank you to Mr. Bissette for his generosity and insight!

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 28

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« You weren’t really supposed to see these comics… » — Dakota McFadzean

« And just who is this Mr. McFadzean? » you may ask.

« Dakota McFadzean is a Canadian cartoonist who has been published by MAD Magazine, The New Yorker, The Best American Comics, and Funny or Die. He has also worked as a storyboard artist for DreamWorks and Netflix. McFadzean is an alumnus of The Center for Cartoon Studies (2012).

He has three books available from Conundrum Press: Other Stories and the Horse You Rode in On (2013), Don’t Get Eaten by Anything (2015), and To Know You’re Alive (2020). McFadzean was a co-editor/co-founder of the comics and art anthology Irene, and distributes his own short stories in his ongoing minicomic series, Last Mountain. He currently lives in Regina, Saskatchewan with his wife and two sons. »

My chance encounter with Mr. McFadzean’s work came through the above-named 2015 collection, and while a daily webcomic is by design uneven, this one scales impressive heights far more often than the law of averages would predict. I’ll say this for him, he’s mighty skilled in conjuring up and expressing existential angst… adroitly melding the waggish and the distressing.

All strips excerpted from Don’t Get Eaten by Anything: a Collection of “The Dailies” 2011-2013 (Conundrum Press, 2015).

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 26

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« Sooner or later we all sit down to the banquet of consequences. » — Robert W. Frank, paraphrasing Robert Louis Stevenson

Today, we ask: who was Peter Randa? I’m asking because I read one of his books at random — actually, the comics adaptation, and was deeply impressed with its quality. Randa, né André Duquesne (1911-1979) in Marcinelle, Belgium, wrote some 300 hundred novels in various genres over a mind bogglingly productive quarter-century under a myriad of pseudonyms, namely Jean-Jacques Alain, Urbain Farrel, Herbert Ghilen, Jules Hardouin, Jim Hendrix (!), Henri Lern, André Ollivier, H.T. Perkins, F.M. Roucayrol, Diego Suarez, Jehan Van Rhyn and Percy Williams. There may be others. He dealt in the genres of science-fiction, horror, espionage, crime, and erotica (with over fifty novels written in the early 1970s).

Two more covers (respectively 1955 and 1973) painted by the also miraculously prolific French illustrator Michel Gourdon. Here’s a segment from a French TV show touching upon the scope of his career, on the occasion of the auctioning of his vast trove of original art. Hope it all found good homes.

Well, here’s the basic plot, taken from the current e-book edition (which I’m grateful exists at all, as even outstanding work often languishes in utter obscurity or downright oblivion):
« Archie Leggatt is a madman, a real one. He believes himself the Devil, had kidnapped three young women and terrorised a fourth. A run-of-the-mill serial killer? Perhaps… but when such an un assassin boasts supernatural powers and leaves more than the scent of brimstone behind, physicians and investigators begin to wonder and ask themselves questions with terrifying implications. Can one truly hope to put Satan behind bars? »

Illustrator unknown, wouldn’t you know it? Given his skill, style and stamina, I’m guessing he’s Spanish, but beyond that, I’m drawing a blank. Still, kudos to this anonymous artistic practitioner.
I know, I know: it’s Warren’s Uncle Creepy with a pencil moustache.

Jeannine agrees to the Faustian deal Leggatt proposes.

A handsome doctor thinks he can save the woman he loves. Randa sets up the usual scenario, all the better to kick the reader’s legs out from under him.
Le banquet des ténèbres — the bédé adaptation — saw print in Eclipso no. 30 (June 1973, Arédit). Amusingly, mycomicshop.com’s archivist describes Eclipso as ‘French publication reprinting comics from various Marvel properties.’ Well, not exactly. The title should clue you in: the anthology started out reprinting DC series such as Eclipso, Deadman, Mark Merlin, Challengers of the Unknown, Hawkman, Doom Patrol… while also dipping into Tower’s T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents, for instance. Marvel got stirred into the mix in the early 1970s, then came a period of French novel adaptations, then back to US comics, mostly from Marvel. The ride ended in 1983.

What fascinated me about Le banquet is its steady ambiguity between possible mental aberration, hypnotic suggestion, and the outright supernatural. This precarious balance — and slow-burning tension — is maintained right to the end, which is no mean feat. Is Leggatt just a regular madman, a consummate mesmerist, or a temporary, occasional shell for Old Nick? I’m reminded of a similar exploit accomplished by Arturo Pérez-Reverte in his 1993 novel El Club Dumas (The Club Dumas), wherein one didn’t know for certain whether there was anything actually uncanny going on… until the conclusion. Sadly, Roman Polanski fumbled his cinematic adaptation (as The Ninth Gate), starting with the absurd casting of Johnny Depp as the presumably intelligent book detective protagonist. When Polanski’s wife starts flying, the jig is up, I’m afraid.

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 25

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« But Mireault was, here as ever, a little too raw, a little too honest, a little too vulnerable for what comics might expect. » — Zach Rabiroff

This is as sombre as I’m willing to go. Hallowe’en, to me, is more about a seasonal mood and a welcoming sort of darkness… than serial killers and other aspects of people’s inhumanity to one another. And yet…

This is a testament to the late Bernie Mireault’s compositional virtuosity and mastery of the syntax of comics… but it’s also evidence of how deeply he could look into the abyss.

It’s obviously not a joyous read, but Zach Rabiroff’s Remembering Bernie Mireault: 1961-2024, recently posted on The Comics Journal’s website, is an exemplary tribute to a great overlooked talent.

Last month — and some twenty-five posts ago — I wrote about Bernie, showcasing a pair of stories poles apart from today’s offering… but they’re all Bernie’s. He was that solid a stylist.

Left Alone: The Rustin Park Killings, written by Jennifer Van Meter and illustrated by Mireault, appeared in The Blair Witch Project no. 1 (Oni Press, July 1999).

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VIII, Day 24

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« ffor I haue seyn of a ful misty morwe ffolowen ful ofte a myrie someris day. » — Geoffrey Chaucer, Troilus and Criseyde

You see, there were these two competing comics publishers…

… which is to say DC Thomson and the dystopian-monikered International Publishing Corporation (IPC); between them, they dominated the UK comics market. By the late 1970s, said market had surpassed circulation of ten million copies, its rosiest sales outlook ever.

To be perfectly cynical, the rival publishers’ editorial vision was mostly to copy one another’s successes. Same mouldy old dough.

In 1977, « Freelance writer Pat Mills had an idea for a girls’ horror comic* that would use his 2000 AD approach — longer stories, bigger visuals, with adaptations of stories from big name writers… Misty was about to be born. »

This, of course, is the Stan Lee version of an ‘idea’, for what IPC was commissioning, and Mills was providing, was a copy of DC Thomson’s existing Spellbound. However, since Mills was asking for a piece of the pie, he was sacked before the new magazine’s launch, and replaced with a perhaps more pliable sancho.

In terms of timing, Spellbound happened to cease publication (after 69 issues) just a few weeks before its clone’s launch. For its part, Misty lasted 101 issues before being folded** into the more reliably successful Tammy; a common practice in England for underperforming magazines that still have a following. After all, Spellbound, upon its own cancellation, had been whisked into Debbie.

This is Misty No. 22 (July 1st 1978, IPC). This one I can credit: Jordi Badía Romero (1958-1984).
This is Misty No. 28 (Aug. 12 1978, IPC).
This is Misty No. 34 (Sept. 23 1978, IPC).
This is Misty No. 64 (Apr. 28 1979, IPC).
This is Misty No. 94 (Nov. 24 1979, IPC).

And here’s a short story.

Dr. Julia Round recalls, in her foreword to Misty: 45 Years of Fear (2023, Rebellion): « Misty is perhaps best remembered for its one-shot stories, which were vicious cautionary tales in which characters would be brutally punished for a mistake or misdeed. There was a strong sense of dramatic irony in these stories — wishes backfire, magical items that are gained dishonestly turn on the owner, and unkindness to animals or nature sees girls transformed into bugs or plants. » This particular example is gentler, obviously.

Blood Orange was published in Misty Annual 1979. No credits whatsoever, thank you very much.

-RG

*It’s worth noting — with a shudder — that UK comics were both stringently gender *and* genre specific.

** « Most titles were folded when they got down to about 200,000 sales. They said is was not viable, but can you imagine now, having a circulation of 200,000? » — Wilf Prigmore