Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 7

« Then hear this, and never forget it. Any fool with fast hands can take a tiger by the balls, but it takes a hero to keep on squeezing. » ― Stephen King, The Dark Half

A couple of years back, I was reading, through idle curiosity, a ranking of Stephen King’s books*. I came upon the article author’s précis for King’s 1993 novel The Dark Half:

« The premise is simple and ingenious: a literary author “kills” off the pseudonym whose popular fiction has been paying the bills, only for that alter ego to take murderous, corporeal form. Within the killing spree that ensues, King offers some profound observations about the schism between high art and popular culture, while also exposing his own worries about legacy. » I like King’s perhaps a bit too cute allusion to Donald Westlake’s troubles with his better-selling, pulpier pseudonym Richard Stark — The Dark Half’s antagonist is named George Stark.

Anyway, that essential premise reminded me vividly of a harrowing comic book story I’d encountered as a child. Here it is — poorly reproduced, I’m afraid — and I’ll provide a bit of context afterwards.

The Devil’s Creation originally saw print in Beware! Terror Tales no. 2 (July 1952, Fawcett). Scripter unknown, art by Mike Sekowsky (1923-1989).
On a small town kid’s budget, some US comic books were highly unlikely to turn up on my local spinner rack. Besides, I didn’t even know English yet. But these French digests (162 pages for 35 cents!) could be a godsend. This one came out slightly before my time, but I somehow landed a second-hand copy. This is my dog-eared Eclipso no. 9 (Oct.-Dec. 1970, Arédit); I was, within its pages, introduced to — besides Eclipso — Deadman, The Spectre, The Doom Patrol, The T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents and Mark Merlin.

Amid all this fine, but sanitised Silver Age fare, here was one short story that sharply stood out by its merciless brutality. I’m still mystified at how this seemingly random story, which hasn’t even been reprinted once in North America, so incongruously landed in this collection. Amusingly, Sekowsky appears elsewhere in the issue, pencilling the light-hearted A Day in the Life of Dynamo (from Dynamo no. 1, Aug. 1966, Tower). Say what you will, the man was versatile.

Notice how they took away his gun? Censorship was pretty strict in France when it came to publications for youth.
In reformatting stories for a different size and ratio, this publisher’s efforts were often pretty dismal; this, however, was an exception. I daresay the pacing was even improved. You simply never know!

-RG

*Not having made it through much of his oeuvre, my favourite King is the non-fiction Danse Macabre (ranked his 51st best book). Fun fact: ill-advisely, the French have retitled King’s famous short story collection Night Shift (ranked no. 13)… Danse macabre. The real DM was retitled Anatomie de l’horreur (‘Anatomy of Horror’). Now I’m sure that didn’t confuse anyone.

America’s ‘Most Visible Cartoonist’, Jim Benton

« I’m not saying I’m cool. That’s your job. » — Happy Bunny

When it comes to Jim Benton‘s work, it seems I got in on the ground floor, thanks to a friend’s shrewdly chosen gift of the man’s first cartoon collection, ‘Dealing With the Idiots in Your Life‘, twenty-nine years ago this Christmas. Yikes!

In a way, Benton’s nearly too obvious a subject for a post: his work is everywhere you turn, but such a large audience seems to have been reached at the cost of relative anonymity. In other words, people know his work, but they may not know his name. I’m sure his name does, however, enjoy some currency with a couple of generations of younger readers familiar with his Dear Dumb Diary (nearly 10 million sold!) and Franny K. Stein (over five million sold) series.

Given his intimidatingly formidable output, I’ll stick to material from his first collection, which I like best anyhow… which is not to say, echoing what all and sundry tell Sandy Bates in Stardust Memories, that I strictly prefer “the early, funny ones“. Mr. Benton is possibly even funnier — or at least more sophisticated — today than he was at the dawn of his career, but these early cartoons are less ubiquitous than this century’s crop.

At this stage, Benton’s style — both in concept and execution — still wore some heavy influences, namely that of Bernard Kliban.
It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if this cartoon had near-universal appeal, given the fearful hold of cognitive dissonance: after all, most of us think others have a tenuous grasp on reality.
Cute Citizen Kane reference.
A timeless and oddly poignant state of affairs.
Some of you will likely have occasion to muse over this very question during the Holidays.
This one’s *very* Kliban-esque.
In this one, I see a bit of his fellow Scholastic alum Tom Eaton‘s touches. All for the good.
More Kliban (surely intentional!) but with sprinklings of Nicole Hollander and perhaps Scott Adams.
Taking Will Rogers’ famous bon mot to its, er… logical conclusion.
Here’s a jolly one for the season.

In closing, a bonus one from quite recent days. While I’m less fond of the digital tablet aesthetic of his latest work, his writing has acquired some even sharper edges. Sadly, this strip will likely be relevant only to medieval citizens of the German town of Hamelin, right?

For more Benton, right from the source, note the address: https://www.instagram.com/jimbentonshots/

-RG