The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 645: Cybernary #5, March 1996

Our last little peek into the Wildstorm U for now - much as I'm finding it fascinating, it's superhero comics from the 90s, and those are always a bit tough for me to get into. Yesterday I had noted that the influence of technology on everyday life in this shared universe is interesting, as it reflects the kinds of advances that one might see in a society that embraces superheroes. But occasionally it goes overboard, like the giant tank that gets made out of Vandalia, the doctor who created Cybernary. And then there's the breasts.

I've just read a collection of the erotic art of Kovik, a person obsessed with enormous breasts. And I mean enormous, hanging on the floor kind of breasts. There's something of an irony, a recognition of the inherent ridiculousness of the fetishization of breasts that large sitting right on the surface of Kovik's art. They recognize that such a fetish is slightly ridiculous, and embrace it anyway. Image artists in the 90s don't seem to get this. The "schematic" of Cybernary at the end of this issue even shows metal reinforcements holding her breasts in place - I cannot imagine that a breast with steel support rods inside would be a particularly pleasant sensation, for either party, especially in a construct that's supposedly a nymphodroid.

Breasts in 90s Image comics are ridiculous. Let's move on.

It's a pity that there isn't more Gerber Cybernary. I feel like he was just hitting his stride, and that he'd introduced a good supporting cast, freed the main character from the shackles of her origin, and was ready to move forward. The character does reappear a few times in the Wildstorm U, but never under Gerber's pen. More's the pity.

Where to next? Isn't it great that I have no idea?

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 644: Cybernary #4, February 1996

Yes, yes, that is a giant boar-man with a human head grafted to its back. Things are very weird on the island of Gamorra. This is actually something that the Image universe is pretty fantastic at - it portrays the ramifications of superhero existence on science and technology rather remarkably, though the sad fact is that it seems the technological advancement just creates more psychopathic villains. The question is floated in the Flash television show, as to why it seems that every person who gets superpowers also becomes a villain - perhaps it's the unhinging of human reality that happens to a mind when superpowers are introduced. Maintaining one's humanity in such circumstances might be trying, as Cybernary is demonstrating.

Rebner's art is growing on me, and I think it was just a shock to go from Manabat's super-metal style to Rebner's art. But he and Gerber are creating a rather cool little tale in the depths of one of the worst places in the Wildstorm U, messing with bodies and minds like one might play with Lego, which makes for a remarkable read. It's a pity it's all done tomorrow.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 643: Cybernary #3, January 1996

Short one today, though the comic is starting to get kind of interesting. Anyway, I read this, but just don't have it in me to blog today. Very tired.

I'll make up for it with tomorrow's post.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 642: Cybernary #2, December 1995

A bit of a jump, but we find Cybernary prowling the streets of Gamorra City with her childlike robo-psychologist, looking for the young man for whom she sacrificed herself. And not much actually happens.

This is a pretty good set piece, but if you're looking for action, there's not much here. Cybernary pretty much shuts down every bad guy she comes across within a matter of moments - in fact, she's getting so good at it, one begins to wonder how there'll be anyone who does pose a challenge - unless it's that Minotaur guy who, apparently, in actually a centaur. Did not pick that up from Manabat's art in the original run. Maybe his art was, just occasionally, a bit dark and obscure....

That said, I'm afraid I'm just not buying Jeff Rebner's art on this series. It reminds me of John McCrea's work on Hitman, or Jim Baikie's work in Tomorrow Stories - the juxtaposition of this style with Manabat's original is jarring, and makes the mean streets of Gamorra look more like a cartoon and less like one of the circles of Hell. I think I preferred the original aesthetic.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 641: Cybernary #1, November 1995

A year and a bit after we last saw her, Katrina, the Cybernary, is back to tell us the rest of her story, aided and abetted by Gerber and artist Jeff Rebner. Rebner's art is remarkably different from Manabat's, falling more in line with the Wildstorm "house style," but he still manages to capture some of the grotesqueness of Manabat's vision of this strange underworld on Gamorra Island.

Today's issue was origin story, pure and simple. The exposition covering the previous installments of the story was handled very well (are we surprised?), and the twisted tale of Cybernary's creation is revealed. Her connection, through blood, to the Clan Gamorra, ruling clan of the nation and one of the main, non-alien bad guys of the Wildstorm universe, is a neat plot twist, and one that I never see coming (I'd forgotten about it when I read the comic this morning). It apparently gets taken up more fully in Cybernary's appearances following this series, but my recollection of the current series is that it's a bit of a revenge flick. Like Kill Bill, but with superheroes.

I've been slowly, but surely, working on a book about Steve Gerber's minor contributions to mainstream comics. He does just a few bits of work with Image. There's a brief run on Codename: Strykeforce, a WildC.A.T.S. special, these Cybernary works, one issue (and four pages) of Pitt, and a Savage Dragon/Destroyer Duck crossover. They're certainly not amongst his best works, but we can see him working through the grittier kinds of narratives that would eventually lead him to Nevada and Hard Time. But I think there's also some evidence of his dissatisfaction with the industry as a whole. We're not getting the intelligent commentary of Howard or Man-Thing, or even his brief Captain America stories here. This is surface Gerber, lots of flash, but only the hint, the gesturing, toward substance.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 639: Deathblow #4, April 1994

Okay, so it's jut the last issue that doesn't have a Cybernary cover, though the indicia does indicate Cybernary as still being a distinct entity from the Deathblow comic. One imagines that the lack of cover may have had something to do with Nick Manabat's hospitalization.

Deathblow is beginning to venture into more superheroic territory, which is both good and bad. In a shared universe, it's important to remember that the significant changes to reality (i.e., superpowers) are going to influence every facet of that reality, including Black Ops missions in Iraq. I'm not sure where Deathblow's story goes, and who the "Black Angel" is, but I'm sure it'll be bloody and violent.

A letter in the back of one of the previous issues asks when Cybernary is set, offering the assumption that it's some time in the future. This is another facet of that shared universe influence, as the story takes place in contemporary times. The Image universe embraces these influences in a way that similar situations in the Marvel or DC universes are not embraced, which Warren Ellis calls out with great facility in the pages of Planetary. The technology evinced on the island nation of Gamora is light years ahead of what technology actually was in 1995 (remember, that is basically a pre-Internet world), the result of alien incursions onto the planet.

Not sure where I was going with that. I'm having one of those weeks where I simply don't have enough spoons to do everything. I'll keep reading everyday, but my apologies if the posts are short, or a bit choppy.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 638: Deathblow #3, February 1994

 

 Okay, okay, I have no idea why anyone takes anything I say as the truth. I think what the case actually was was that the last issue of Deathblow is the only one without a Cybernary flip cover, and I got confused. That  happens more and more often these days. The official release data, coupled with the orientation of the stories, means that this comic is actually called Deathblow, even though it included just as much Cybernary. What happens is when there's no Cybernary cover on the fourth issue, my OCD takes over and tells me that I can't possible simple alphabetize the last issue under an assumed, rather than actual, cover.

Honestly, this is what the inside of my head is like all the time. But I'm trying to combat these things, so perhaps I'll be able to re-file these as Cybernary, not Deathblow. Perhaps.

Anyway, the stories continue in much the same fashion. We get some early Tim Sale work on the Deathblow side of things, which is cool. He's definitely got that Frank Miller-style thing going on, but Sale's work surpasses Miller a few years later. His work with Jeph Loeb on their meditations on the early days of superheroes are pretty much across the board wonderful, and his style, which is grim'n'gritty here becomes simple and whimsical, without sacrificing any of the drama he's capable of.

Manabat and Gerber begin to reveal a bit about Cybernary, who she is, where she comes from, and we start to get the idea that she's more than just a faulty "nympho-droid." Each issue of this series makes me more and more sad that Manabat never got a chance to really show the world what he was capable of. His art is so metal. Over at Comic Vine, a relative of Manabat's started posting some of his sketch work, so we have a bit more of this amazing artist's work. But still, too little.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 637: Deathblow #2, August 1993

 






















Okay, I lied yesterday, though it was unintentional. Issue #2 has a flip cover as well. The back of this issue has a short missive from Jim Lee, detailing how Deathblow is set to become a quarterly comic, rather than a monthly (though the August cover date suggests thirdly, not quarterly), and in which he cites Frank Miller as an influence on the story. No surprise there. It gets me thinking about the differences between tribute, or inspiration, and direct copy, and Deathblow skirts the edges of these categories a bit dangerously. Having read the last couple of issues, I really would not have been surprised to find out this was actually produced by the horrendous Frank Miller (seriously, look him up - he's probably an Orange Man supporter). That's how closely this comic mimics the style of The Dark Knight Returns. To be inspired by an artistic style is one thing, but to simply offer pastiche does little to further the cultural conversation that art represents. Perhaps, later in the series, Lee brings his own brand of storytelling to the character, while retaining influence from Miller. But these early issues are direct mimicry.

Cybernary, on the other hand, continues to look like little else that I've seen in the Image universe, and in superhero comics more widely. There's something of Chris Bacchalo's early style to it, and it occurs to me now that Generation X  was being published around the same time as Deathblow/Cybernary. One letter complains about the overuse of black in the art on Manabat's story, but the whole thing, from those pervasive shadows to the blue-tinges on everyone's skin, gives a real feeling of a story happening at night, away from the bright lights of the superhero universe the characters inhabit, somewhere deep in the shadows, almost unnoticed. Which, considering the pomp and circumstance of Minotaur's arrival on the scene, is ironic.

A couple more issue of the flip book, and then we're on to Cybernary's series proper. I looked up Nick Manabat yesterday on the GCD, and he's got a scant 6 issues credited to him, two of which are pin-ups (in Backlash and the Wetworks Sourcebook). I'm curious if he did any other work before getting into Image comics, though that doesn't appear to be the case.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 636: Deathblow #1, April 1993

While it may look like I've read two comics today, that's not the case. As I mentioned a couple of times over the last few days, I've become a bit fascinated with the early Image universe, and its remarkable internal consistency, so I thought I'd read a bit more. And if that bit more includes Steve Gerber, so much the better. The first installment of the Gerber/Manabat Cybernary is presented as a back-up feature in the first issue of Jim Lee's Deathblow, and is even given a flip cover (which is how I always have it catalogued). Unfortunately the next three issues of Deathblow, even though fully half of the issue is devoted to the Cybernary story, don't have flip covers. A pity.

Deathblow finds Jim Lee and co-writer Brandon Choi at the Frank Millerian best - short, clipped caption boxes, chunky, almost etched-looking artwork, remarkably different from what I would have characterized as Lee's usual style. Though maybe it's a bit too much Miller, and that's why his later work bears only scant resemblance to this one. The story is pretty tame, considering the violence we see in flashback, but perhaps over the next few issues it'll pick up.

For Cybernary, Gerber is credited as scripter, rather than writer, though I think this changes over the next few issues. The beginning of the story is quite good. Manabat's art calls to mind the work of Kelley Jones, though inflected with the Image house style, which sounds weird but actually works. We get these first four issues of his work and then Manabat sadly lost a battle with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, leaving behind a small, but impressive body of work. Gerber went on a couple of years later to do a Cybernary mini-series, partially in tribute to Manabat, so the character as introduced does get to play out at least a brief story. Escaped sex-bot becomes resistance badass on the island nation of Gamorra. It sounds like typical power-fantasy fare. But it's not.

Onward.

Constructing a Collection - Don't Knock the Quarter Bin

Five years ago, I started what I'd hoped would be a series of articles about constructing a comic collection. Five years later, all I have is that introduction, but I still think it's a pretty interesting thing to talk about. I do love talking and thinking about collecting (as this currently-fallow blog attests), so I'm resurrecting the series. We'll start with a consideration of the quarter bin.

(I'm going to pepper this post with actual scans of things I've found in dollar bins, just to give a sense of the scope and quality of comics available in such places.)

 Probably the first question/comment would likely be "What the heck is a quarter bin?" It's a testament to the time in which I was beginning to think about these articles that I would think of the bargain bins of many comic stores as "Quarter Bins." Sadly, the days of quarter comics, except at the occasional garage sale, are over. It' much more likely you'll see a "Dollar Bin" nowadays. But if we consider that some comics hit upwards of five dollars per issue, a dollar is pretty good.

Secondly, let's expand our definition of a Quarter/Dollar bin, which will actually place the notion of a 25 cent comic back on the table. Dollar Bins don't have to be located in comic stores. A flea market might have comics kicking about on a table for anything from a quarter to a dollar. I've found packages of comics for $10, which turned out to mean 50 cents per comic. The Quarter/Dollar bin is a collecting metaphor. Really, we can consider it as any place where one can procure comics for less than they are likely to be new or as collectibles in a comic store.

As far as I've ascertained, there are four categories of comics, one of which I've not yet been fortunate enough to procure. Every so often one will hear a story, be it online or from an acquaintance, about someone who is pouring through a stack of old comics at a flea market or garage sale, and comes across something ridiculous like Action Comics #1. It may not be in pristine condition, but, really, who cares?! Imagine finding that comic, regardless of condition, and getting it for a dollar. Or less. I live in hope that one of these days something similar will happen to me, so I have that kind of story. But not yet. This is not to say, however, that the other categories of comics one can find are not every bit as fun and exciting. It's just in different ways.

The above comic is The Adventures of Mighty Mouse #132, published by Pines Comics in, according to the GCD, 1956-ish. My old copy of the Overstreet lists this issue at $65 Near Mint, and $5 Good. I got this one for 50 cents. The staples are still good, the center page is still there. It's missing a cover, but, really, the cover is simply there to, well, cover things. For readers, at least, it's what's inside that's important. My point for this comic, and similar ones in my collection, is that I likely wouldn't have paid even $5 for a copy of it. I like the mid-eighties Mighty Mouse from Marvel, but the character's not a particular favourite. This comic, however, coming in a stack of similarly aged and conditioned comics, was a wonderful find. It's utterly, utterly strange, and revealed to me that the attributes I admire in the aforementioned Marvel version of Mighty Mouse are not unique to that era of the comic. And if I'd turned my nose up at cheap, coverless comics, I'd never have discovered it. The Quarter/Dollar bin can be a treasure trove of strangeness. Weird independent comics that never got much play on the shelves, battered up copies of old comics from the fifties (a decade that really was another planet). In my delving into these troves, I'll often pick out the strangest covers I can find (I know, I know, judging books etc.). Often they'll be bad. But occasionally, they'll be good.

Comics like this one are often shunned by collectors. They're in bad condition, they don't give the full presentation of what the original material artefact was. I prefer to see these comics as being well-loved. The rounded corners, the slight oil stain at the edge of each page, the dulled almost to brown pages and equally dulled colours. They've been around, seen a lot of wear. They've been read. And really, for a narrative in any medium, to have been told and retold, or to tell and retell, I suppose, is really the highest praise it can receive.

Further up the page is the Steve Gerber-penned Cybernary #1. A good portion of Gerber's output in the nineties was with Image, and much of it suffered from the fact that he had to cleave to the shared universe within which he wrote, a universe of gravity-defying breasts and psychotic superheroes. It is no secret to anyone who's read this blog for a while that I'm a huge fan of Gerber's work. But he's not one of those writers, like Gaiman or Moore, who is voraciously, and more importantly popularly, collected and read by the general comics reading public. Gerber's writing demonstrates another of the categories of dollar bin finds. I've found many, many of his old works in such places, the one-offs he did for Creatures on the Loose for Marvel, his 4 issues of Captain America from the late seventies. They're not well-regarded comics, likely because they were fill-in issues for the regular writer/artist team, but they do have something about them that's intrinsically Gerberian (a notion I'm exploring over at Sequart). If you've a propensity for the work of someone like Doug Moench, or would love to read the old adventures of Morbius, the Living Vampire, the dollar bin is a good bet. That said, I've definitely found obscure works by the likes of Moore and Gaiman in dollar bins. The popularity of a writer/artist/title is no guarantee of high cost for all of the associated works. If you're clamouring to read all of Neil Gaiman's comics output, have a look in your local dollar bin for Elric #0 from Topps, beautifully illustrated by P. Craig Russell. Or Moore's old Time Twisters from 2000 A.D. in Quality's Time Twisters series. The dollar bin is a wonderful place to find oddities that fit your collection that, in some cases, you never even knew existed.

"Those three types of comics are all well and good, Tom" I hear you say, "but what about new stuff?" Well, you're in luck, but only in a few places. The coverless old stuff, the quirky collection stuff, they're staples of the dollar bin. The rare find is just that, rare. The fourth category I've discovered isn't ubiquitous, and often only happens in comic stores that are quite small. My local store in Calgary (Phoenix Comics N.W.) has very limited space, and no back issue boxes, so when comics get too old and don't sell, they're relegated to the dollar bin. To the right is issue #3 of Dark Engine, publication date October 2014. So the comic's just slightly more than 8 months old. I found the first three issues of this series in Phoenix's dollar bin, and picked them up because, well, a dollar! And it turns out to be a really great and intriguing series, which, again, I very likely would not have picked up for the cover price. That said, I'm going to keep reading the series, and pay full price for subsequent issues. This particular use of the dollar bin is quite wonderful, I think. I get to try a new comic for a substantial discount, and the store stands a chance of creating a new reader who will then pay full price for the rest of the series. Phoenix Comics has been remarkable for this sort of find for me. A number of the series I am currently reading I initially found in that dollar bin, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to try new series without too much of an "am I wasting my money?" feeling.

(I probably shouldn't have mentioned where I got those new issues. All you Calgarian readers are going to go and scoop up all the good stuff now!)

I'll never stop shopping in the dollar bin. At the moment it's a nice way to grab a pile of comics and stay within a graduate student budget, but even when I start making actual money (that does happen, right?), I keep going to the dollar bin. For me, it is the place where the real wonder and fun of collecting comics is crystalised. There is the thrill of finding something cool and unique, of discovering the new or re-discovering the old. The smell of old newsprint wafts from them, the dust of years accumulates on your fingers as you search, your heart leaps when you think you've found something great. Were I ever to counsel someone on starting to build their own comics collection, I would say this: Take $50, go to a comic shop that has a substantial dollar bin, and get 50 comics. Base your purchase on how the comic looks, the characters on the cover, the genre it seems to be. You'll find great things and terrible things. And it will be one of the best $50 you spend in your life.