What Comic Runs Can You Read Again and Again?

With the rise of digital comics and the ubiquity of comic collections, today really is a golden age for comic readers.  There is very little we cannot find—online, at a store, or through our library—to read and enjoy, from the early works of Jack Kirby and Will Eisner to the most recent collections from Kate Beaton or Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips or Colleen Doran.  There’s a plethora of comic stories out there, and more are coming out every week.

But with this wealth of comics, it can be tough to keep up with the newest books, even if one tries to narrow it down to just a handful of titles from specific.  Even with all the new books coming out, there are still those standout series in your longboxes, or on your shelves, that will call you back for a re-read and a reassessment.  These are the comics that touched you somehow—maybe it was your introduction to a particular artist or character, or just a great concept that was extremely well executed.  Often tinged with a strong dose of nostalgia, they’re the books that still give you that tingle in the pit of your stomach that takes you back to a time that feels more vibrant.  Like visiting an old friend you haven’t seen for a long time, these series make you feel warm and comfortable, and bring a smile to your face every time.  Here are three of mine…

G.I. Joe (Larry Hama, et al., published by Marvel Comics)—

This was the first comic book I collected and will always be an important title because of that.  I started with issue 23 of the series—“Cobra Commander Captured at last!”—and it was all engines ahead, after that one.  I collected up through #140 (featuring the Transformers, by that time) and backtracked to gather all the previous issues, either through reprints or the digests available at my local bookstore, and these comics rarely disappointed. 

The battle of good vs. evil and the cool costumes—and ninjas! Natch—were what initially drew me in, but it was the writing that kept me hooked.  Hama crafted some great characters, and their interpersonal relationships, along with the political intrigue inherent in the concept of Cobra and its battle against this covert and “superheroic” military unit, was exciting and engaging.  Though soap operatic, to a great degree, there was something more complex and more adult at work in Hama’s storytelling.  Sure, scenarios may have been outlandish and overblown, but it never felt like he was writing down to his audience.  There was a definite line between good and evil, in the comic, but many of the characters’ personal morality skewed toward a hazier shade of gray, which infused the stories with something missing in most of my other comics.  And, most important for me, though each issue contains the requisite exposition to bring newer readers up to speed, Hama was able to deftly weave this into the dialogue in a manner that rarely felt forced and, at the very least, was lyrical, which kept the exposition from stifling one’s appreciation of the reading experience. 

Finally, it should be noted that there were a stellar number of artists who worked on this series.  There was the legendary Herb Trimpe, Ron Wagner and Rod Whigham (two of my favorites on the title), Marshall Rogers, Tony Salmons, Mark Bright, Geof Isherwood, and even art from Hama himself, along with memorable covers by the likes of Michael Golden and Mike Zeck.  G.I. Joe has a great pedigree, and it’s a comic that, today, still holds up and excites the kid in me, when I sit down to read it.   

Sandman (Neil Gaiman, et al., published by DC/Vertigo comics)—

This was the series for me, when it was originally published, and it is what helped make Neil Gaiman one of my favorite writers.  The Sandman was unlike almost any other series I was reading, at the time (I had yet to compile a full collection of Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing), and it hit me at just the right age.  I was in high school when the first issue was published, and was entering my senior year when I discovered the series, with issue #8, “The Sound of Her Wings.”  Gaiman’s concoction of horror and magic, ancient myth and a literary sensibility, spoke right to me.  And as the series progressed, the realization that he was overlaying all of these various stories with a single narrative that would see the main protagonist evolve, in as extreme a way as possible for the embodiment of Dream, only added to my appreciation of this series.  It’s a masterpiece, in my opinion, and one that rewards subsequent readings with new insights. 

Sandman hit at a time when the comic book publishers were just beginning to look at collected editions as a viable publishing avenue.  When this became the expectation—that the single issues would be collected into a lasting volume—something occurred with the serialization of many comic books—writers (or the editors), would plan storylines to be six issues long, allowing for a standard length collection that could be priced appropriately and sit alongside all the other six-issue collections on the shelves.  Thankfully, Sandman came before this—and I might argue that Gaiman would not have fallen into that trap, but who can say?—and the storylines within the comic spread across however many issues were needed to tell the story properly, whether it be five issues or seven or thirteen.  These were often interspersed with a series of single-issue stories, vignettes that felt like a nice respite between arcs but, in many cases, were later revealed as integral pieces of the overall narrative.  Yeah, I love this comic.

And, again, like Hama above, Gaiman was afforded the opportunity to work with a wonderful complement of amazing artists, including Charles Vess, Colleen Doran, Mike Dringenberg, Sam Kieth, Kelley Jones, Jill Thompson, Marc Hempel, and many others.  These comics are not just wonderful stories, but they are also a feast for the eyes.  Some of the most beautiful comic art can be found in these volumes, especially the final one, “The Wake,” which includes art from Michael Zulli, Jon J. Muth, and the aforementioned Vess.  And don’t forget the covers by the inimitable Dave McKean.  Just, seriously, beautiful, wonderful, amazing stuff.  Seek it out if you haven’t already. 

Suicide Squad (John Ostrander, Kim Yale, Luke McDonnell, et al., published by DC Comics)—

The mid-80s is my “Golden Age” of comics.  It’s the point when I was still relatively new to comics and collecting, and all the series I read, at the time, just had an immense impact on me.  Primarily, I was a DC guy, with titles like the Flash, Justice League, Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, and such occupying much of my interest, though I did have occasional forays across the way, to Marvel, with the likes of Avengers and Captain American and Silver Surfer (ah, Ron Lim, you did the Surfer right).  But the book at the top of the pile, every month, was Suicide Squad. 

This was a comic that was unlike all the other superhero books I was reading.  A collection of villains, and psychologically suspect heroes, tasked by the government with the dirty jobs that the pristine heroes could not be expected to do (assassinations, prisoner escapes, covert ops in foreign lands).  If they were successful, and survived, their sentences would be commuted.  But…there was always the chance they could die on the mission, and that threat was very real.  With the likes of Captain Boomerang, Bronze Tiger, Rick Flagg, Enchantress, Gypsy, Vixen, Deadshot, and Amanda Waller, “The Wall,” along with a fantastic supporting cast, this was a book that surprised and engaged month in and month out.  There was real pathos and melodrama, thanks to Ostrander and Yale, and it was wonderfully illustrated by the likes of McDonnell, Karl Kesel, Geof Isherwood, John K. Snyder III, and others.  And, like Hama with G.I. Joe, Ostrander & Yale managed to layer in the exposition without weighing down the narrative with it, a task far harder than it looks.  I love this book, and if you were disappointed with the movie (or even if you enjoyed it) you should seek out these original stories, because they are some great, exciting, and fun comics. 

Now, what are yours?

-chris

A Fistful of Comic Book Annuals

NOTE: an addendum has been made to this post.  You can see above (if you're reading this soon after publication), or check here for the new #2 annual in my personal top 5.  

Conceived and used with the permission of Matthew Constantine and Brad Gullickson, the original dorks.  Everyone has a Top 5, but A Fistful just sounds way damn cooler.

Note:  This post fueled by Nostalgia ^TM 

Inspired by a recent Comic Geek Speak episode, in which the gang waxed rhapsodic about their own five favorite comic book annuals, here are my top five. 

 5 
 6. Psi-Force annual #1 (1987), written by Danny Fingeroth, art by Mark Texeira

Marvel’s New Universe was about the strangeness, and the heroes, right outside your door.  Unencumbered by a quarter-century (then) of continuity, with stories taking place in disparate American cities, it really felt that way.  Despite the bad rap the New Universe has gotten, in retrospect, I love Psi-Force, without reservation or irony, and this annual, at the end of its first year of publication, shook up the status quo in a dramatic way, with one of the regular team members choosing to leave, in order to allow the team’s former enemy, Thomas Boyd—now on the run from the clandestine organization hunting these kids, with which he worked to try and capture Psi-Force.  The writing is a bit rough, though not Claremontian-rough, but the story is solid with beautiful art from Mark Texeira, early in his career.  This story, upending the status quo in the manner it does, feels big and important, worthy of an oversized annual.

 4 
 5. The Flash Annual #1 (1987), written by Mike Baron, art by Jackson Guice & Larry Mahlstedt

The Flash is my favorite superhero, and when the title returned, albeit with Wally West rather than Barry Allen, on the heels of Legends, I was excited.  This annual, published after only four issues of the regular series, takes Wally to Hong Kong, where he looks to learn how to harness his chi, in order to control Dim Mak, the death touch he exhibited in the opening of the issue.  It’s a fun story that showcases Flash’s impatience (he’s got superspeed, get it?) as well as expanding on a major theme that runs through the bulk of the Wally West run—that of Wally learning how to be a hero, as well as a man, and coming to terms with the grave responsibility thrust upon him when his Uncle Barry died in the Crisis.  Though they would never return to this aspect of Wally’s powers, it helps lay the groundwork for much that followed…and it was damn cool to infuse the Scarlet Speedster with some zen mysticism and martial arts. 

 3 
 4. Justice League of America annual #2 (1984), written by Gerry Conway, art by Chuck Patton & Dave Hunt

“The End of the Justice League!”  Frustrated at members unwilling to give their all to the league, Aquaman, as acting chairman and the only founding member still active full-time, disbands the Justice League.  Many of the current roster protest, like Firestorm and Green Arrow, but very few of them are able to give themselves to the league full-time.  So, it is settled.  Except for Zatanna’s and Elongated Man’s desire to continue with the league coupled with the surprising return of J’onn J’onnz, the Martian Manhunter.  With this core, including Aquaman, a new league could be formed from the ashes, and they set about with that in mind.  Through the rest of this story, this rejuvenated JLA gets a new headquarters in Detroit and a number of new members, including Vixen, Steel, Vibe, and Gypsy.  It’s JLDetroit, baby!  Like the Psi-Force annual above, JLA annual #2 shook up the status quo and delivered a story that felt important and dramatic, worthy of an annual.  From here, Conway & Patton, with Luke McDonnell coming on later as artist, would chart a brand new course for the Justice League, sans the “big guns” of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, et al., and take some chances.  There are many who look no this short era of the league with disdain, but after the Bwa-ha-ha version that would follow, this is “my Justice League.” 

 2 
 3. G.I. Joe Yearbook #3 (1987), written by Larry Hama, art by Ron Wagner, Mike Zeck, et al.

The first comic book I collected was G.I. Joe.  Loved it.  Still love it.  Larry Hama’s infusion of grand soap operatic plotting with complex political machinations and intertwined backstories, combined with over-the-top villains, similarly colorful heroes, super-secret bases and weapons, and all-out action made, and makes, for some great comics.  This story, “Hush Job,” is another important one worthy of an annual.  Snake-Eyes, having infiltrated Cobra disguised as Flint, was discovered and subdued, and is now being held in Cobra’s consulate building in New York City.  Scarlet and Storm Shadow decide to go in and rescue him.  There are ninjas, Dr. Mindbender, Baroness, bullets, bombs, and action, all told without dialogue, as in issue #21.  Ron Wagner’s art is wonderful, detailed and uncluttered, with some great choreography for the fight scenes.  There’s drama and emotion, as Storm Shadow battles to free his friend while Scarlett is discovered by the Baroness in the lower levels of the building, and the final twist, though questionable from a plot standpoint, still works—it’s G.I. Joe, come on.  Add a bunch of extras, including lengthy summaries of the past year’s cartoon and comic book adventures, pin-ups from Mike Zeck, and a short story in the back drawn by Zeck that recounts how a Roman praetor utilized the invention of pizza to defeat the Gauls, and you have a full comic that was well worth the cover price. 


NEW #2. 

see here for the full post on this issue.

1. Superman annual #11 (1984), written by Alan Moore, art by Dave Gibbons. 

“For the Man Who Has Everything.”  The best single-issue Superman story ever told, in my opinion.  Mongul has come to Earth to defeat Superman, on the day he celebrates his birthday, bringing an alien plant, the Black Mercy, as his weapon.  Attaching itself to its victim, the Black Mercy puts the victim into a catatonic state by offering up an alternate reality where the victim’s greatest wishes come true, offering a virtual reality the victim does not wish to leave.  Batman, Wonder Woman, and Robin, come to the Fortress of Solitude to celebrate Kal-El’s birthday, happen upon this and work to save their friend.  It does not go well, as Wonder Woman battles Mongul while Batman & Robin attempt to free Superman from the Black Mercy’s clutches. 

Superman is lost in a world where Krypton did not blow up, where he had the chance for a family, a wife and children, and where everything was perfect…almost.  It’s an idyllic setting, until rifts start to show, rifts in the political realities of this Krypton that are revealed due to Superman’s psyche fighting the alien plant.  He knows this isn’t right, knows he must return to Earth to be the hero he was born to be.  And, in the end, Kal-El gives up this life, gives up his home, his wife, his kids, and leaves them to return to his true reality.  But, when he comes to—as the plant jumps to Batman, plunging him into a reality where his parents were not killed in that dark alley—Superman is left with all the memories of the family he never had, and the pain he felt at leaving them behind.  He is mad.  And he takes it out on Mongul. 

Their battle is mean and destructive and all too human.  And that is what Moore, and Gibbons, brought to this tale, the truest sense of humanity, and the pain concomitant his parents’ sacrifice, that I’ve ever seen in a Superman story.  Dave Gibbons, a master comic artist, brings it all to life in a way that accentuates this humanity, grounding it all with his precise linework.  “For the Man Who Has Everything” is a master class in doing a poignant, engaging, and entertaining, done-in-one comic story that will make you think and illuminate the characters on the page.  This is a great comic that you must read, if you want to call yourself a real comic fan. 

-chris

A Fistful of Single Issues -- Superhero Comics

Conceived and used with the permission of Matthew Constantine and Brad Gullickson, the original dorks.

Everyone has a “Top 5.”  But Brad and Matt, choosing to walk a different path, amended that to “A Fistful…” over at their blog, In the Mouth of Dorkness.  A film-centric blog where they also discuss comics and books and TV, these two regularly share their top 5, ranging from “Heroic Kids” to “Spies” to “Summer Movies” to “Punches” to all things in between.  Always fun, often insightful, and something I hope to regularly pilfer for Warrior27.  As they say:  If you’re going to steal, steal from those you know relatively well, who will not sue you.

I love comics.  Been collecting since 1984 (31 years for those who don’t want to do the math).  I have sixteen or so longboxes full of single issues, not to mention the collections I own and those I’ve read through the library.  I’ve ingested a helluva lot of comic books, across a wide swathe of genres and styles and formats—superheroes, mini-comics, autobiographical, black and white, fully painted, photorealistic linework or animation styles, manga, etc. etc. etc.  And for the most part, those comics have been at the very least entertaining, and at their best, mind-blowing (see: Alan Moore & Grant Morrison).  Even with all that, there are still only a relatively small number of comics I can re-read and be exhilarated with the experience every single time.  So, despite the tens of thousands of comics I have read, it was fairly easy to narrow down those five (+ 1) single issues of superhero comics that I go to whenever I want to recapture my youth. 

Note: Some might argue that I took slight liberty with the definition of a superhero comic in some of the choices below.  Technically speaking, there are two Vertigo books in the bunch, Swamp Thing & Animal Man, but both of these issues were published before the mature readers imprint was implemented.  And though Swamp Thing does not wear a costume and was actually created for DC’s horror line, I’m going to allow it because it’s my site, my post, and my rules, plus the Justice League and Batman make significant appearances in Moore’s run.  So, case closed.  And G.I. Joe—don’t know that there’s been a cooler superhero team in comics’ history with all the code names, cool skills, and various costumes.  But I’ve rambled on too long, something I am fairly good at when I sit down to the keyboard, so let’s get to it…

MY TOP FIVE SUPERHERO COMICS (in no particular order):

Incredible Hulk 340—

“Vicious Circle.”  Written by Peter David; Art by Todd McFarlane

Wolverine.  Hulk.  Battle royale.  ‘Nuff said. 

I don’t know how many times I’ve read this issue, but it’s easily a couple dozen.  This is a visceral story, with Hulk and Logan beating the snot out of one another as they both try to prove their superiority over the other.  Peter David’s script is great, but what really makes this work, for me, is Todd McFarlane’s art (something I’m not often heard saying).  His frenetic, overly hatched style imbues the narrative with a frenzied agitation that enhances what could easily be seen as a simple punch ‘em up.  I’m not a huge fan of McFarlane’s work, but I love his Hulk, and he puts it all on display in this issue.  Great, fun, cathartic stuff. 

Superman 400—

“The Living Legends of Superman.”  Written by Elliot S! Maggin; Art by a plethora of comic giants

I wrote about this comic for our 400^th post.  It is easily one of my all-time favorite comics.  The variety of stories on display, with art from a murderer’s row of talent, including Frank Miller, Steranko, Al Williamson, et al.  This comic, more than any other, beautifully captures the wonder and grandeur of Superman, while also evincing the humanity that is the core of his character.  Ever wondered why Superman is the pinnacle of superheroes?  Read this comic to find out.  And if you want a more detailed look at this issue, go here.

G.I. Joe 21—

“Silent Interlude.”  Written by Larry Hama; Art by Larry Hama & Steve Leialoha

For comic readers of my generation, few single issues have been more influential than this one – the Silent Issue.  Relatively early in the run, Larry Hama not only wrote but penciled this issue, wherein Snake-Eyes parachuted into Destro’s castle to rescue Scarlett, and a mysterious connection with the Cobra ninja, Storm Shadow, is revealed at the end.  As the title suggests, this issue is entirely devoid of word—no dialogue, no captions, no thought balloons—and it works amazingly well.  The body language, the action, the facial expressions, all add up to a very emotional and exciting adventure.  G.I. Joe was a gateway drug for many comic readers of the mid-80s, and this was the pinnacle of that magnificent run by Larry Hama and a host of talented artists. 

Saga of the Swamp Thing 21—

“The Anatomy Lesson.”  Written by Alan Moore; Art by Steve Bissette & John Totleben

This comic was my introduction to Alan Moore and his writing.  At the end of these 23 pages, I was all in with respect to Moore.  The issue opens with Swamp Thing, dead.  And from there, Moore, with lush, unsettling art from Bissette and Totleben, overturns all that readers and fans thought they knew about the muck monster, drastically resetting the status quo without ever changing what has come before.  The pacing, the imagery, the revelations throughout these couple dozen pages all combine to create a suspenseful, engaging, and exciting story.  Probably my favorite comic on this list.

Animal Man 5—

“The Coyote Gospel.”  Written by Grant Morrison; Art by Chas Truog & Doug Hazlewood

As Moore did with his second issue of Swamp Thing above, Grant Morrison, also early in his career, completely upended expectations in this fifth issue of his seminal run and provided a powerful emotional reaction in his readership (or in me, at the very least).  I have never felt such pangs of sorrow, when reading a comic book, as I did within the first ten pages of this issue.  Animal Man is confronted with a being from a parallel universe—a coyote-like being who comes from a Looney Tunes universe—who relays the injustices and physical abuses he’s endured on his alternate world to our hero, only to discover upon completing his narrative, at the same time the audience does, that Animal Man cannot understand anything he said.  This revelation hit me like a dead weight falling on my chest.  It was so painful, so real, and yet, did not feel forced.  Morrison, with art from Truog and Hazlewood, completely sold this moment, and I knew I’d found another writer whose work I needed to keep an eye out for.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Miracleman 16—

“Olympus.”  Written by Alan Moore;  Art by John Totleben

For the longest time this was the only issue of Miracleman I owned.  The culmination of Moore’s story, it was a final issue that tied up loose ends, while leaving some dangling, with which I hadn’t a proper context.  Miracleman and Miraclewoman made love in the sky, which the populace experienced as some mirthful lightshow, if memory serves me well.  Miracleman had created a utopia; Charles Manson was even rehabilitated; and now he could look down from his amazing crystal palace on high and appreciate what he had built for humanity.  It was epic, with Moore’s signature use of language on display, and the art from Totleben was breathtaking.  I read this single issue multiple times before I was ever able to find the collections of the earlier issues, and it is one of the singular memories from my hobby that is seared into my brain and brings a smile to my face and a chill to my skin every time I think of it.  Love.  This.  Book. 

[for me, MM is Moore’s “final word” on superheroes, not Watchmen, and someday I’ll get around to writing that post here]

-chris

Childhood Memories: G.I. Joe #23-24

Spurred by Larry Hama's posts on facebook, I decided to dive into the longboxes and pull out the first comics I bought for myself and re-read them. These are the ones that lured me into the habit.  One that continues to this day, nearly 30 years later.  G.I. Joe # 23-24.

Often, when I go back to re-read an old comic or read, for the first time, a classic comic, it struggles to hold up.  Too wordy.  Too juvenile.  Lacking in how the words and pictures mix on the page.  Bad dialogue.  Too much exposition.  Waaah, waaah, waaah. 

It's difficult for older comics to stand up to the scrutiny of a seasoned reader post-Watchmen/Dark Knight/Blankets/Authority/Invisibles/etc. etc. etc.  I cannot read a Chris Claremont comic. Can't.  I can't read a Roy Thomas comic.  Cannot do it.  For all they've done for the medium, their comics (specifically the dialogue) are horrid.

Which brings me to the comics at hand.  Ones written at a time when exposition, a villain more deadly than Galactus and Mephisto combined, was running rampant through the Marvel universe - allegedly due to dictates from then-EIC, Jim Shooter.  And yet, Larry Hama manages to create comics that are new reader friendly without dumping exposition on them in a manner that feels forced or sounds stilted.  Certainly, there are instances of this, but in these two books those are few and far between.  Hama thinks about where to place the exposition, about how to contextualize within a scenario that almost demands such dialogue.  And when he writes that dialogue it does not sound silly or ridiculous.  It sounds natural, which keeps me reading and keeps me enjoying the book.  It's a skill that was rare when he was working on these books in 1984, and one that is even rarer today, as the medium and the way stories are told has evolved. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find how much I enjoyed these books thirty years removed from their initial publication, and I look forward to continuing my re-read of these classic comics.

Yo Joe!

chris

 

Pulped faces in comics - Snake-Eyes and Flash

Like many my age, G.I. Joe from Marvel comics was my gateway into comic collecting. It was easily accessible (no extended continuity, as with the superhero universes), familiar (the cartoon and toys were already in full gear when I discovered comics at my local bookstore), and enthralling for a young boy (guns! tanks! masks! Cobraaaaaa! Yo Joe!!!!!).



And the lynchpin character was Snake-Eyes. What was not to like? He was mysterious, tragic, wore all black, and was a freakin' ninja. Hell, yeah! This was my guy. And I was lucky because three issues after I began with #23, readers got the secret origin of Snake-Eyes with issue 26 & 27. Phenomenal stuff. If there was any wavering on my part, with that two-parter Larry Hama solidified my status as a G.I. Joe fan, and I hung on until somewhere around the 140s - quite a run.



Throughout the series, Hama would often come back to Snake-Eyes origin, sprinkling in more details that would link him even more closely with other characters within this universe such as Storm Shadow, Scarlet, Duke, and Zartan (??).

If you're unaware of their connection and you've ever been a fan of these characters, you need to seek out these issues (I believe #84 recounts their connection)



Anyway. Eventually, we finally got to see Snake-Eyes's true face - the one that had threatened to make many a person in the comic ill just from the sight of it. Mark Bright was the current artist when Hama finally showed us readers this horrific visage in issue #93, and I admit to being a bit let down.



Returning to that issue now, a couple of decades later, I can see that Bright - with his highly skilled pencilling - did the best he could and managed to make Snake-Eyes rather gruesome, but it didn't work for my young mind. It is, no doubt, a result of one's imagination providing a far more vivid image than what any artist could contrive.



Though, the resultant mashing of Barry Allen's face by Big Sir, as portrayed by Carmine Infantino, certainly is a fine example of the image being more horrific than the imagined one.



chris

the 'Nam vol.1 pt.5: final thoughts

In re-reading these first 10 issues of Marvel's The 'Nam, initially published in 1986-87, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed them. It was such a tough place for the creative team to be: producing a war comic about a time in our history that many people wished to forget, and having to do it under the auspices of the Comics Code and a large publisher like Marvel within a 22-page limit. And, just to make things interesting, they want each issue to take place in real time, so those 22 pages showcase the story for a given month. Not an easy task. But I think they did an admirable job, considering the constraints and the fact that Doug Murray was, in fact, a rookie writer.

There are times when I cringe a little bit - the fact that, for the most part, the American troops are righteous in their mission while any time they find it necessary to shoot a civilian, these always tend to have been VC in disguise (and I could be forgetting if there was an unwarranted killing early, but I am referencing the tunnel rat issue, #8, where Ed Marks and the tunnel rat kill the Vietnamese girl who has a grenade taped to her body). Things are just a little too clear-cut as far as the conflict. From what I have read, it was terribly confusing, and that isn't something we feel in reading these initial issues.

I also found it a bit troubling that the two American characters who seem to be the most perverted by their time in Vietnam were minorities - the Top Sergeant and Ramnarain. Yes, we do have a white soldier try to frag Sgt. Polkow, but that was more subtle and not as overt as the other two soldiers. Maybe I'm nitpicking - probably am - but in this more enlightened world, it just seems to stand out more to me.

That said, I was impressed with all the aspects of the war Murray, Golden, et al. were able to showcase in these first ten issues. The Kit Carson scouts, the tunnel rats, the atrocities (on the VC side at least), the street economy, and I was impressed with the characterization of Ed Marks through these issues. You can see subtle changes from month to month. And there are some very moving moments in these issues as well. Overall, I think they did a fairly good job of giving readers a starting point, which was something Murray hoped for, and understood to be the best possible outcome for a 22-page corporate comic book.

I don't know if this was in the collection, but I was surprised - and found it a bit confusing narratively - to find the "tunnel rat" issue split into two different stories that involved the same character. The second half of that issue - the "5th to the 1st" story - must have been a third installment from the series of features Murray and Golden had done for Larry Hama's b/w war magazine, Savage Tales. Only two stories ran in the magazine before they were offered the opportunity to do The 'Nam as a regular monthly. For anyone curious about those (were they in the collection?) this shows how they were laid out, with a voice over in captions relating the story. This also exhibits the more "adult" nature of that feature, as we see the tunnel rat kill his Lt. I was surprised this actually got into the regular book. I can't imagine editorial allowed something of this nature to be showcased again in the run, though I admit I could be wrong on that count. It would have been nice if they'd been given the freedom to tackle some more of these problems in the book, but there were too many interests involved to allow such a thing - and, of course, sales to be considered.

finally, Mike Golden's art. There were many readers who felt that his cartoony style did not fit the serious nature of the book. And though I can understand that sentiment, I think his art worked very well in the book. It's a little hint of manga, before manga landed with its full force over here, in that he exaggerated facial expressions and body language in order to convey emotion, and did it very well. And, Doug Murray made a good point in favor of Golden in the Comics Journal interview I referenced above, stating that he felt Golden was a good choice for the book because of two factors.

1. One, he has a high level of detail, and accurately depicted the hardware used by the soldiers, including remembering to make every fourth round loaded into a 50-caliber a tracer (I know I am remembering this wrong and cannot find the quote).
   
   
2. Two, Golden is able to make each character instantly recognizable. The problem, as Murray put it, for a war book is that everyone is wearing the same things - camo fatigues - and if you don't have a good artist they all blend together. With Golden, you certainly never got that. His soldiers were all individuals and you always knew who was whom.

For these reasons, I think Golden's work on the book is essential and no doubt helped that book rise to the top of the sales pile early on.

Anyway. Overall, a good book, one that I think is important for a number of reasons. it would be interesting if, at some point down the line, the Comic Geek Speak guys were able to read Don Lomax's Vietnam Journal for a BOMC and compare it with this. And with Transfuzion recently reprinting all 16 issues of the original series in four trades, that might be a possibility.

chris

the 'Nam vol.1 pt.4: final TCJ quotes

And some final quotes:

Murray points out that because The 'Nam was doing so well (selling roughly 250,000 copies/month and in Marvel's top 5 selling books) a decision was made to make the book a direct only title, but geared toward a slightly younger demographic. The price point went up (and it did become non-returnable since it was no longer provided to newsstands) and the circulation dropped to around 100,000. At the point of the interview it was hovering between 85-100,000 according to Murray.

Dagilis continues to ask about how some of the more graphic content got into earlier issues (of particular interest is, I think, #5, which has a very suggestive cover showcasing massacred Vietnamese in a shadowy foreground as Marks and his company stare at the atrocity) and Murray says

The thing is that we got away with some of that stuff because we were able to do a smokescreen. We did a cover we knew they wouldn't accept, and things like the flies [buzzing around the dead bodies] you can get away with because none of the guys looking it over in the Code . . . keep in mind that the Code doesn't look at the book individually. There's a person at Marvel whose job it is to look over books and say, "Hey, the Code won't take this," and make us change it beforehand. So basically what you do is you make some trades; you can trade a "hell" for a "damn;" you can trade a puddle of blood for something else, and that's pretty much what we did when we had Hama in charge, because Hama was able to ramrod that stuff through. but it takes an editor with a lot of balls to do that sort of thing and they are in relatively short supply at Marvel.

And, with regards to royalties:

I get some royalties, but Marvel takes the position that foreign publications don't count under the royalty agreement, and in fact, the 'Nam paperbacks which you've seen [there were eventually 3 volumes, each reprinting 4 issues each] are now going into a third printing, but I don't see any money from that unless they sell above the royalty numbers, but they're printing fewer than the royalty number so there's no way I'll see any money from that. The work-for-hire agreements are set up that way, there aren't enough legal precedents to change them at the moment.

Note: emphasis is mine in the above quote

And finally, Murray mentioned that there was a communication problem between editors at the Big Two and creators who were not top-tier, which came in reference to the fact that Murray and his then-editor (I don't think he's named) had a falling out over the fact that the editor wanted to "Rambo-ize" the characters even more and Murray had a serious problem with that characterization. The editor and Murray did not speak for a number of months, there were a couple of fill-in issues done by another writer, and then Murray returned to the book. But, with regards to editorial communication, he said

It doesn't matter, it's a question of ... Marvel and DC both have - all the editors of both companies are difficult to communicate with from any level. If I was to send a story to, let's say, Denny O'Neil at DC, I would not get a call back, I would have to call him back . . . Even if it's a regularly scheduled book, if there's a problem the editor won't call you back with the problem, you have to call them back.

But, Murray notes this isn't unique to the comics publisher as he states

I've run into the same thing in the magazine industry doing film articles, I've seen the same things in publishing houses.

I'll finish up with my final thoughts on these first ten issues of the 'Nam in response to the book of the month club discussion the Comic Geek Speak guys did on this trade.

Thanks,
chris

the 'Nam vol.1 pt.3: more TCJ quotes

Some more from Murray's interview in The Comics Journal from 1990:

In response to a question about whether Marvel had directives regarding political questions of the war, Murray said

No, nothing like that. I have a personal problem with - I'm not happy with the way I've handled the racism aspect of things.

One of the things I've tried to show in The 'Nam throughout is the futility of war. I've made a point over and over again that nobody really wins. that was the whole idea behind my getting involved in this.

Later, Dagilis asks Then the series changes. Soon we have characters like the cliched, Dirty Harry-esque Iceman Phillips, the gonzo, Rambo-esque, Pig; we have scene after scene of grunts charging into armed exchanges with smiles on their faces, gleefully calling down airstrikes with napalm, etc., etc. Whereas in the first dozen or so issues, Rob Little keeps telling [Ed] Marks not to be so "John Wayne" . . .

To which, Murray says

Part of the problem is not the fact so much that Ed Marks left as . . . other people left. Around the same time you're talking about, when Marks left, I also lost Michael Golden and not that long afterward I lost Larry Hama, and at Marvel a change in editor doesn't mean nothing's going to change in the book . . .

Anyway, basically what happened was, once Michael left and Larry left, I was steered in a somewhat different direction by the editorial staff, who wanted to ... to ... I want to say this without insulting anybody ... The original concept of The 'Nam was that it was a comic book, but for a relatively adult audience.

Some final quotes and thoughts on this tomorrow.

thanks,
chris