The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 1441: Aztec Ace #13, May 1985

I have actually managed to find the final issue of the series, so I'm rapidly approaching the end. Things are a bit strange, though that's not saying a lot in the context of this series. It's a very strange series. But it may also be one of my favourite series I've read. There's so much here that prefigures a lot of the Morrison stuff I glommed onto in the 90s, mixed with a nice dash of pulp adventure. I feel like Ace's adventures in time would be somewhat similar to the adventures of the 20s Invisibles in Morrison's epic.

Today's issue was a lovely metatext, both a love letter and a deconstruction of superheroes. This is a little while before Watchmen, and manages to both demonstrate the problems with the superhero, a la Watchmen, but also manages to show why they're such beloved characters: they offer us a site of belief. That's really all it is. Superheroes replace the more flawed religious constructions upon which our culture is built, refining away the bad ideas (I don't know too many hateful superheroes), and keeping the good stuff.

Many say that it's time that humanity outgrew the numerous faith traditions we've clung to for millennia, but we still need something to believe in. I think that's something very human. So why not superheroes, a myth that we ourselves can contribute to?

More to come...

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 1422: Aztec Ace #1, March 1984

I've set myself something of a clock in reading this issue today. Aztec Ace runs 15 issues, and I was fortunate enough to nab the first fourteen for very, very cheap one fine day. I have, of course, since been unable to find the 15th issue at any of the comic shops in Calgary. And if I keep reading the series, I've 14 days to find it.

*sigh*

Though, really, of all the stressors in my life, that's the most pleasant one.

Another thought that occurs is that the cover date for this comic is  when I turned 10 years old.

I like this comic a lot. It reminds me of Grant Morrison, in the weird trippy multiple time lines and non-linear understandings of reality, and comes from a writer (Doug Moench) whose work I've always found to be really solid. I'm excited to see a series in which he's given free reign over the story he's telling. And to be telling that story using an Indigenous South American man as the focal character is pretty great. Regardless of whether or not I manage to find the final issue, I think I'm going to enjoy this story.

More to come...(really, this time.)

The 40 Years of Comics Project Friday Magazine 29: Eerie #109, February 1980

Since I've been doing some investigation of pre-Code horror, I thought I'd have a look at some of the horror magazine I picked up back when I got my Heavy Metal collection. At the time I thought that the HMs and the undergrounds in that purchase were the real treasures, and treasures they certainly are. But my unfamiliarity with the Warren magazines led me to overlook them, and that's a mistake.

When thinking about the tradition of EC horror comics, it is a tradition on two fronts. The first, of course, is the stories. They are, for the most part, amazing - artists and writers at the top of their games. The second front is the role it played in the crackdowns on comics in the 50s - EC becomes a metonym for the lost potential of the genre after the creation of the Comics Code. When I read Bruce Jones' series Twisted Tales a while ago, I saw him as one carrying on the tradition of these experimental tales of fear. But I neglected to note at that time that the Warren magazines of the 60s and 70s were also bearers of that torch. Mr. Jones, of course, contributes to these magazines before taking his tales to Pacific. Though they lose something in the black and white format (I've never been one of those fans who prefers B&W over colour. They both have their pros and cons.), the style is there, as is the desire to shock and amuse.

This was one of the first Eeries I've ever read, and it was okay. None of the stories wowed me. But the quality was certainly high enough that I can see why these mags are so revered. One thing that they add to the tradition, and perhaps this is inherited by Bruce Jones' later series, is women in varying states of undress. The EC comics got away with a lot in terms of their portrayals of women, but at least the ladies were clothed. The Warren magazines seem to want to equate horror and nudity, which is a strange connection to make (Eros and Thanatos, perhaps?). The question, I suppose, is does the tradition benefit from this addition?

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project Friday Magazine 11: The Rampaging Hulk #8, April 1978

The Friday Magazine finally returns! My apologies for the weeks of absence. My recovery from surgery and work and all that stuff has just been mad, and the magazine was one of the things I felt could be set aside momentarily. But I'm hopefully back on track. We'll see next week I guess.

I'm glad that I had a magazine that fits with my theme week this week. The ever-awesome Steve Gerber pens a tale of Ulysses Bloodstone in this issue, hence its presence in my collection. But what I find most fascinating about this magazine is really the very fact of its existence. I've wrestled over the course of the week with why the Hulk is such a popular character. I simply don't understand the draw of this character. But in the 70s he had not just a monthly comic book, but a monthly magazine and a television series. The X-Men, whose popularity hit undreamt of peaks in the 80s and 90s, never had a dedicated magazine or television show. Yes, they had a gazillion different titles chronicling their adventures, but the magazine and the television show of the Hulk shows that the character was appealing to a much wider array of consumers than just the comic book fan.

In Thursday's review, I mused on the idea that the character's popularity comes from the idea that he represents a safe space in which to vent our most negative emotions without fear of damaging others, hence the lack of casualties whenever the Hulk rampages through a population center. If this is indeed the case, I could certainly it as an explanation for the more diverse media representation. The safe release of negative emotion is something that most, if not all, people can understand. In contrast, the exclusion and prejudice evinced toward the X-Men, though widespread, is not universal by any stretch of the imagination. So is this it, then? Does the Hulk articulate something universal about our emotions and how we handle them, or wish we could handle them? And given that it's savagely negative emotion that he embodies, what does this say of us? It seems that the wish fulfillment that the Hulk represents articulates some of the worst of our impulses.

Onward.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 779: Master of Kung Fu #36, January 1976

Much as I enjoy the character of Shang-Chi in his Avengers appearances under Jonathan Hickman, it's hard to read his earlier comics without cringing a little (or a lot) at the Orientalism on display. Mainstream comics in the Seventies took a turn into strange territory by pushing Said's fomulation of Orientalism into the Far East and inundating the shelves with martial arts comics. We've seen the fruits of this in Netflix's latest Marvel series, the much-maligned Iron Fist (which I haven't watched yet), a series that has crumbled under accusations of white-washing and just not being very good. I'll get back to you on that when I've seen it. But, to be fair, Iron Fist was always white-washed. And it's in this respect that Master of Kung Fu is at least a slightly more positive depiction. Shang-Chi is a non-caricatured Chinese man, a revelation in and of itself given comics' propensity for caricaturizing citizens of the Far East. The odd bronze colour they give his skin is questionable, but at least it's an attempt at a skin tone, rather than simply slapping yellow on anyone of East Asian descent. If you want to see this at some of its worst, have a look at "The Japoteurs," one of the old Fleischer Superman cartoons.

Okay, moving on. Keith Pollard is today's featured creator. He's best known for an extended run on Thor, on Iron Man, and on Fantastic Four, all in the late 70s and early 80s, which means this is one of his early works. His Wikipedia page notes that he's from Detroit, and I've noticed over the last couple of days a number of artists from this era who all came out of Detroit, shepherded by Rich Buckler. I'm not sure if anyone's ever written on this phenomenon, but perhaps there's something to be said on the Seventies Detroit artists. But what to say of his art? It's good. There's occasional places where the panel layout is a bit confusing, but when we get to the end of the comic and Shang-Chi is unveiling the strange creatures of the circus he's been asked to protect, we get some very odd and cool creatures, called the "mysteries," and Mr. Pollard very nicely refrains from giving us a full-on view of any of them, thus maintaining some of their mysteriousness. Add to this that earlier in the comic, as Shang-Chi battles a group of ninjas (as one does), the depictions of the speed with which a martial arts fight takes place are really nicely handled. At some point I'll have a look at some of his later work, and see how things have progressed, but from this comic it is easy to see why Marvel would have taken a chance on him.

Before I finish, I have to note that I didn't find the comic in general that great, mainly because it's narrated in the first person by Shang-Chi, and Doug Moench's dialogue here is not great.

More tomorrow. To be continued.

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 345: Marvel Two-In-One Annual #6, 1981

Whenever one is about to read a comic that deals with Native Americans, it is wise to take a deep breath and just accept that it's going to get patronizing and cliched.

I am so very happy to report that, with this comic, it's not the case. I'm honestly shocked at the fair and decent treatment given not only to the two main Native American characters in the comic, but to the larger issue of land disputes and of spiritual beliefs. In fact, ironically, it's the usually pretty open-minded Thing that has some of the most deplorable dialogue in the comic. For someone whose life is defined by how he looks, defined by an inability to fit into mainstream Western culture, you'd think he's be a little more accepting of both the Native legend of the two brothers that Wyatt Wingfoot recounts, and of the American Eagle more generally. But it serves an interesting purpose, and one that I'm going to give Doug Moench the benefit of the doubt for as to it being intentional. Grimm's hypocrisy is so very blatant. He dismisses Wingfoot's legend, though the story is only as fantastic as his very own origin story. He treats American Eagle with the same insulting parental attitude that was responsible for residential schools and cultural genocide, even though he is treated as an outsider and freak by just about everyone else in the Marvel U. I'd say that this behaviour is out of character for Ben Grimm, but as a cipher for the treatment of Native American's by the mainstream, he's spot on. And through it all, Jason Strongbow, aka American Eagle, maintains a cool head and a dignified attitude.

This was a good comic. I'm not sure I'd say it was a good Thing comic, because much of his behaviour really seemed to be out of character. But as a piece of social commentary, from a nation just entering the Reagan years, it's a gem. Well worth a read if you can track it down.

Onward!

The 40 Years of Comics Project - Day 340: Marvel Premiere #38, October 1977

Yet more elves today, though in a far better story and a far better art style. After having become enamoured with the Secret Wars version of Weirdworld, I did a bit of searching to see where the title had come from, and lo and behold, there's a bunch of Doug Moench-penned stories spanning the late 70s and early 80s. I actually have a couple of the Marvel Super Special issues that feature Tyndall and Velanna (though at this very moment I have no idea where they are, as they aren't filed with the rest of my magazines. I hold out hope that they're somewhere in my parents' basement).

This is, of course, a very different Weirdworld to that in which Arkon searches for his lost home. Though given the nature of the realm, it's entirely likely that it's exactly the same world, just, you know, weird.

Ploog's art is lovely, and Velanna is, for a tiny person with pointed ears, quite innocently erotic. That's not so surprising, given the propensity for 60s and 70s science fiction and fantasy to always feature a beautiful, desirable woman, be it upon the cover or between them. This initial story of the two doesn't give Velanna much to do, so her character is very much wrapped up (pun intended) in her flowing locks and spider-web clothes. Hopefully she'll see a bit more action in the later stores (which I'll read and blog once I've figured out where the heck they are).

Alright. I think it might be time to leap back into the collection proper, rather than continuing to pour through my quarter bin finds. Onward!

The 40 Years of Comics Project: Day 69 - Marvel Spotlight #29, June 1976

It's interesting to see the cover of this issue in colour, since the version of it I'm reading is black and white. With a character like Moon Knight, whose various costumes are black and white, the lack of colour doesn't really make much difference. But I never would have pegged his antagonist, the hyperbolically-named "Conquer-Lord," as a blue and orange kind of bad guy. Oh, the seventies.

So, it's a nice-looking Jack Kirby cover. Honestly, if you need someone to draw super-people battling on a giant, flame-spouting chess board, there's few artists more suited to such a task than Kirby.

The story inside is fairly standard seventies superhero stuff, with a couple of slight, yet important and interesting, variations. First, we have in this issue the first reference to Marc Spector's affliction with/act of multiple personalities, as he notes accessing different personalities for different skills they possess. Though he refers to is as schizophrenia, and the existence of MPD is still one of those highly-debated points in studies of the human mind, he comes across here as almost a prototype of Crazy Jane of the late eighties Doom Patrol. It's interesting to see precursors to an idea that Morrison deploys with such grace. Not that it's not deployed gracefully here, but it's an instance of the trope that I've not seen before.

The reading of these comics in the Essential editions has two ramifications for me: First, I'm struck with a desire to know these writers a little better. I'm familiar with Steve Gerber, who rose to prominence in this era, but Doug Moench, Bill Mantlo, Steve Engelhart, these are names that I see occasionally in the credits of older comics I read, but I can't put my finger on them the same way I can Alan Moore or Neil Gaiman. I'm curious to see if these writers have distinct styles like their 80s counterparts, and whether I can get to the point of recognizing their distinctive qualities. We'll see.

The other thing that occurs is a solution to a problem I was wrestling with as to how to both read and keep track of issues collected in trades for this project. I think that, at least of collections of individual issues, I'm going to enter them into my database but make sure they're explicitly marked as being collected in a particular edition of a particular trade paperback. The only difficulty is going to arise when reprints, like this Essentials edition, only reprint partial issues that include the character in question. This Essential edition collects short stories from Hulk Magazine, but I can't include those issues in the database if I haven't got the whole thing. Perhaps I'll have to figure out a way of noting that it's a partial issue in the database.

Anyway, back to The Score tomorrow, and then a bit more Moon Knight. I have to say I'm enjoying Moon Knight more than The Score at this point, but I get the suspicion that The Score is really more of a "read in one sitting" sort of story, rather than a sequential one, and perhaps that's why it's suffering in my eyes. See you tomorrow!

The 40 Years of Comics Project: Day 65 - Marvel Spotlight #28, June 1976

I have an admission to make: that colourful cover up above, that's not the comic I read. This is:

I really like the Marvel and DC black and white reprint series, which makes their cancellation recently both a boon and a curse for me. A curse because, inevitably, the colour reprints that will follow will be either exorbitantly expensive or solely digital, neither of which really fits with my reading habits. The boon part is that these older books are getting sold off cheap, and I've managed to get some good deals on them.

Anyway, in order that I don't succumb to having nothing to say about The Score once I reach it's last issues, I've decided to alternate with chapters from this collected edition of Moon Knight stories. I've recently rediscovered the character through the new series, one that was launched by the awesome team of Warren Ellis and DeClan Shalvey. Though I was going to drop the series once the superstars were gone, it's actually continued to be really excellent. I wonder what will happen to it next month when Secret Wars drops, but hopefully it'll be cool still.

One last caveat. I only read very quickly the first two stories in this collection. Moon Knight makes his initial appearance in the pages of Werewolf by Night, a collection of which I read only a couple of months ago. Thus, I'm starting with MK's first solo appearance in Marvel Spotlight. I have to say, especially in light of the concerns I will shortly speak about with the Shadow Line Saga from Epic, that this issue manages to fairly seamlessly combine a decent adventure story with some subtle exposition, all wrapped around a few mysteries (who is Moon Knight, really?, and who's after the mayor?), all within a 20 or so page story. The art is competent, the writing is very 70s, but that's okay too. Moon Knight is often relegated to the same place that Daredevil or Green Arrow are, in that they're simply ways to cash in on the Batman archetype. I would never say that this is completely untrue, but I think Moon Knight (and the others to a certain extent) have enough originality to perhaps be descendants of the same myth that Batman is. What that myth is is a topic for a dissertation. Stay tuned.

Over the last few years I've started reading the old Marvel horror titles in these reprint volumes, and so have been exposed to some writers whose work I was previously unfamiliar with. Doug Moench is one of them, and I've really been enjoying his stuff. I think I was also swayed to respect him when he sheepishly admitted to having poorly finished Steve Gerber's Omega the Unknown story in the pages of The Defenders after Gerber left Marvel with the conclusion of the story.

(And, with Gerber's death a few years back, that story is likely never to see print. Just imagine....)

So that's that for today. Back to The Score tomorrow, and then some more Moon Knight on Saturday. See you tomorrow.