« Would you pay me a pound for every grain of sand in my hand? » — Ben Knox
Here we are again / The start of the end / But there’s more. As far as I’m concerned, Steve Ditko (preferably in tandem with his favourite scripter, Joe Gill) defines Hallowe’en. To quote a dear old friend and fellow cartoonist (though he remains *far* more dedicated to his craft that I ever was), who obligingly reviews my Hallowe’en posts each year: « …and at this point, I was thinking: “Where the fuck is Ditko?!” » Well, who am I to deny a guy his candy?
It’s funny how a lot of people deem themselves Ditko fans, but only manifest interest in his Marvel superhero work… 1963-1996… a blip; on the next level, there are those who also deign to include his Charlton work… but only if ‘Action Heroes’ Captain Atom, The Blue Beetle and The Question put up an appearance.
As you might have surmised by now, I’m really in it for the spooky stories, arguably — I’d certainly argue so — Ditko’s true element. Here, then, is a surly, sultry, Ditko-Gill gem from 1970.
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It was only after my recent rereading of this story that I realised how much it shares with one of my favourite movies, Local Hero (Scotland, 1983; written and directed by Bill Forsyth). I mean… the oil man sent into a beautiful wild place to prospect for resources, in all likelihood spelling another eden’s destruction; the canny native playing dumb; the eleventh-hour realisation of the pristine habitat’s boundless value…
It strikes me that hardcore Randian Ditko would have been normally objected to the environmental message of Gill’s tale: after all, industrialists should not be criticised. But Gill’s politics, from what I’ve gathered from his writings, were far more nuanced and complex than Ditko’s. Maybe he won Steve over with this one. We’ll never know, but it’s nice to dream.
And by the way, Happy Hallowe’en!
-RG
P.S. As I’ve stated earlier this month, there’s been no Hallowe’en countdown this year, but rest assured that the musty catacombs of our archives await your pleasure, should you be so deplorably inclined. We therefore propose the following time-saving links to allow you to bask — forthwith! — in the lugubrious glow of the sinister season:
