All characters TM & © Marvel Characters, Inc.
The
JACK KIRBY COLLECTOR #63
SUMMER 2014
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Contents The Marvel Universe! OPENING SHOT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .2 (let’s put the Stan/Jack issue to rest in #66, shall we?) A UNIVERSE A’BORNING . . . . . . . . .3 (the late Mark Alexander gives us an aerial view of Kirby’s Marvel Universe) GALLERY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37 (mega Marvel Universe pencils) JACK KIRBY MUSEUM PAGE . . . .48 (visit & join www.kirbymuseum.org) JACK F.A.Q.s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .49 (in lieu of Mark Evanier’s regular column, here’s his 2008 Big Apple Kirby Panel, with Roy Thomas, Joe Sinnott, and Stan Goldberg) KIRBY OBSCURA . . . . . . . . . . . . .64 (the horror! the horror! of S&K) KIRBY KINETICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . .67 (Norris Burroughs on Thing Kong) IF WHAT? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .70 (Shane Foley ponders how Jack’s bad guys could’ve been badder) RETROSPECTIVE . . . . . . . . . . . . . .74 (a look at key moments in Kirby’s later life and career) INCIDENTAL ICONOGRAPHY . . . . .82 (we go “under the sea” with Triton) CUT ’N’ PASTE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .84 (the lost FF #110 collage) KIRBY AS A GENRE . . . . . . . . . . . .86 (the return of the return of Captain Victory) UNEARTHED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .89 (the last survivor of Kirby’s Marvel Universe?) COLLECTOR COMMENTS . . . . . . .91 PARTING SHOT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .96 Cover inks: MIKE ROYER Cover color: TOM ZIUKO If you’re viewing a Digital Edition of this publication,
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Spider-Man is the one major Marvel character we don’t cover this issue, but here’s a great sketch of Spidey that Jack drew for granddaughter Tracy Kirby in 1975—one of the few good illos of the character Jack ever produced. The Jack Kirby Collector, Vol. 21, No. 63, Summer 2014. Published most quarters by and © TwoMorrows Publishing, 10407 Bedfordtown Drive, Raleigh, NC 27614, USA. 919-4490344. John Morrow, Editor/Publisher. Single issues: $14 postpaid ($18 elsewhere). Four-issue subscriptions: $45 US, $61 Canada, $66 elsewhere. Editorial package © TwoMorrows Publishing, a division of TwoMorrows Inc. All characters are trademarks of their respective companies. All artwork is © Jack Kirby Estate unless otherwise noted. All editorial matter is © the respective authors. First printing. PRINTED IN CHINA. ISSN 1932-6912
COPYRIGHTS: Agent 13, AIM, Alicia, Angel, Ant-Man, Avengers, Baron Von Strucker, Beast, Beetle, Betty Ross, Brik, Bucky, Captain America, Crystal, Cyclops, Daredevil, Dr. Droom, Dr. Strange, Dragon Man, Drom, Dum-Dum Dugan, Early Hulk, El Toro, Enchantress, Executioner, Falcon, Fantastic Four, Fin Fang Foom, Fixer, Frightful Four, Galactus, Galp, Giant-Man, Gorgilla, Herbie, Hulk, Human Torch, Hydra, Iceman, Immortus, Infant Terrible, Invisible Girl, Iron Man, Jane Foster, Jasper Sitwell, Junior Juniper, Ka-Zar, Kang, Loki, Magneto, Marvel Girl, Medusa, Molecule Man, Mr. Fantastic, Nega-Man, Nick Fury, Odin, Plunderer, Plunderer, Princess Python, Professor X, Puppet Master, Quicksilver, Rama Tut, Red Skull, Rick Jones, Sandman, Scarlet Witch, Sentinels, Sgt. Fury, Silver Surfer, Skrulls, Space Phantom, Spider-Man, Stranger, Sub-Mariner, Tales of Asgard, Thing, Dr. Doom, Thor, Titanium Man, Trapster, Triton, Tyr, Tyrannus, Wanderer, Warlock, Warriors Three, Wasp, Watcher, Wizard, Wyatt Wingfoot, X-Men, Yellow Claw TM & © Marvel Characters, Inc. • Darkseid, Demon, Desaad, Flash, Guardian, Highfather, Kalibak, Kamandi, Lex Luthor, Lightray, New Gods, Orion, Superman, Sandman TM & © DC Comics • Mr. Machine TM Ideal Toys • Black Hole TM & © Walt Disney Productions • Captain Victory, Jacob and the Angel, Beast Rider, Captain Glory, Satan's Six TM & ©Jack Kirby Estate • Thundarr TM & © Ruby-Spears Productions • Destroyer Duck, Roxie's Raiders TM & © Steve Gerber and Jack Kirby
Prologue: Conflagration “I was a Scout in the infantry. If somebody wants to kill you, they make you a Scout. Once while I was on patrol, I entered a street and somebody from a window started calling me all kinds of names in German, and he was laughing. ‘I’m going to kill you,’ he said, ‘I’m going to shoot you right in the face.’” Jack Kirby interviewed by Ray Wyman Jr., The Jack Kirby Collector #27 Conflagration: a huge, destructive fire [Webster’s New World Dictionary] fter the war he was afraid of nothing. He trekked halfway around the world and stood face to face with evil men who wanted to slaughter him—just for his ethos—and he lived to tell about it. What could he possibly fear after that? A Jack Schiff? A Martin Goodman? A Jim Shooter? They were nothing—less than nothing. War had been hell—hellfire and conflagration. But Kirby, the advance Scout, had plunged directly into the inferno without a fire mask. The heat was paralyzing—but he never once flinched. How could he ever fear anything again?
Bigness
(above) Kirby during WWII. On his sleeve is the 1942 Anti-Aircraft Artillery patch. (below) Joe Simon in the 1940s. ©Joe Simon (next page, top right) Stan Lee in the Timely offices in the mid-1950s. (next page, bottom right) Splash from Yellow Claw #2 (Dec. 1956), one of Kirby’s first Atlas jobs. (throughout) All pencil pin-ups are from the Valentine’s Day sketchbook Jack drew for his wife Roz in the late 1970s.
Right from the start, Jack Kirby was the comic industry’s seminal actionartist. His intuitive understanding of the action hero as iconography—as opposed to photorealism—brought an unprecedented force and dynamism to his figures. He knew from the beginning the world depicted in comics was infinitely larger than life: as such, lifelike illustration couldn’t begin to do it justice. Kirby reduced the human body to its basic components: he deconstructed the human form, then reassembled it in completely new aesthetic proportions. As his sinewy supermen exploded across the page, their bodies defied all known laws of physics. Their powerful arms, legs, and torsos carved endless arabesques in space—they jackknifed, corkscrewed, twisted, turned, and danced magnificently, in impossible contortions. Exactly, it was “bigness.” That’s it and that’s all. No other word applies. Immediately, every superhero artist in the industry was copying his style—trying to capture his “bigness”—but compared to Kirby, everyone else seemed pygmy.
Enter: Stanley Lieber Jack Kirby had fallen from great heights. In the 1940s, Joe Simon and Jack Kirby were comics’ most successful duo. The team sold comics of all genres, to a myriad of publishers. Their creations included Blue Bolt, Marvel Boy, Newsboy Legion, Boy Commandos, Sandman, Manhunter, Stuntman, and the Boy Explorers. They did Westerns, crime books, and they invented the romance comic. While working for Martin Goodman in 1940, Simon and Kirby spawned their most enduring character: Captain America, paragon of justice, juvenilia, and jingoism. To meet the demands of Captain America’s monthly schedule, Simon and Kirby needed a gofer—a flunky—so Goodman hired his wife’s teenage cousin, Stanley Lieber. After the 1940s, comics suffered a near-death experience. Plagued by the Wertham crusade, a new entertainment alternative called television, and a general lull in overall creativity, comic books were definitely in trouble. When the industry crashed in the mid-’50s, Jack and Joe—whose Mainline Publications had folded—went their separate ways. Darkening clouds of uncertainty began to gather as Kirby’s professional situation and finances began to dwindle. He got a trickle of work from Harvey and Atlas, but nothing substantial. In 1956, Kirby headed for the greener pastures of National, and began drawing Challengers of the Unknown under managing editor Jack Schiff. Meanwhile, trying to get out of comics before he went down with them, Kirby co-produced a newspaper strip called Sky Masters (along with Dave and Dick Wood, Jack Schiff, and Wally Wood). A dispute over payments led Schiff to sue Kirby. After that, the artist felt unwelcome at National and pulled up stakes. Kirby drew The Double Life of Private Strong for Archie Comics, until National’s lawyers decided The Shield’s resemblance to Superman was close enough to prompt litigation. Result: cancellation—such was DC’s power in those days. Kirby also drew a couple of issues of The Fly, but managing editor Richard Goldwater was put off by the bigness. He thought the artwork was “too creepy.” He wanted a slicker, more polished look: “Like the DC artists,” he said. As it happened, both Simon and Kirby had an axe to grind with Martin Goodman. They were piqued at not owning Captain America (Marvel had made a second attempt at matching its 1940s success in the mid-’50s), and Kirby despised 4
the company’s nepotism. But now, at age forty-one, Kirby’s prospects were bleak indeed. He was no longer king of the mountain. A landslide of misfortune had wrenched him down to where he could no longer even see the mountain’s peak. Compared to the new rising comic artists like Carmine Infantino (and DC’s slick, homogeneous “house” artists), Kirby’s big-action art suddenly seemed outmoded. Smallness was in now, as exemplified by Dick Sprang’s tiny-figured, miniaturistapproach to Batman in World’s Finest. No one at National seemed to mind Kirby leaving, and to make matters worse, Harvey Comics was canceling its action/adventure titles for more lucrative kiddie fare like Little Dot and Casper The Friendly Ghost. To Kirby, the entire industry must have seemed like a ghost—a ghoulish, rapidly vanishing medium that offered ever-diminishing options. By this time, it was 1958; his fortunes stood at low tide, and the industry had basically written him off. With few other prospects, he was forced to go back to work for Martin Goodman—whose comic company everyone knew was doomed. As for himself, Kirby wasn’t worried. He’d fought his way up from the ghettos of the Lower East Side, and the war-torn foxholes of Europe. As such, his present obscurity was just one more battle—and he still had plenty of fight left in him. It was comics themselves he feared for. Since the crash of the ’50s, it seemed the entire medium was burning out—going up in smoke. As if an unstoppable, all-consuming fire was blazing out of control, and the comics industry was
A Universe a’Borning PiN-UP
CAPTAIN AMERICA
standing directly in its path. To save comics, Jack Kirby would have to plunge—once more—-back into the inferno.
Return To Babylon A fetidness hung over the Marvel offices. It was a stench and an abomination. It was a smell that had permeated the ex-Scout’s lungs before—years ago, on a beach in Normandy awash in human wreckage. Unmistakably, it was the smell of rigor mortis setting in: “Marvel was on its ass, literally, when I came around, they were moving out the furniture, they were taking desks out. I says, (sic) go in to Martin and tell him to stop moving the furniture out, and I’ll see that the books make money.” Jack Kirby, amalgamated from his 1990 Comics Journal #134 interview 5
Kirby’s anecdote about the movers taking furniture has since been deemed an exaggeration by industry insiders. Yet despite these blasphemous naysayers (and their mindless preoccupation with facts), one thing is clear: Kirby was desperate to get the company back on track, in order to provide himself a safe haven. Back in the 1940s when Simon & Kirby reigned supreme, Kirby had Stan pegged as a bothersome, ocarina-playing kid. Ironically, that kid Kirby found so irksome was now his boss. No matter; because he was the man he was, the ex-Private accepted his lot, and settled down to work.
Carnage “I was given monsters, so I did them. We had Grottu and Kurrgo and it was a challenge to try to do something—anything—with such ridiculous characters. But these were, in a way, the forefathers of the Marvel super-heroes.” Jack Kirby interviewed by Steve Sherman, 1975 At this point, bigness had all but disappeared from comics, and Kirby was determined to
The idea that when Marvel superheroes began, Atlas monsters ended, is misleading. The monster/sci-fi tales lingered on as back-up filler right up until Tales of Suspense and Tales To Astonish evolved into superhero “split books.” This 1962 Annual was Marvel’s first, released at the time of FF #6. Above is the original Kirby/Ayers splash from Strange Tales #89 (Oct. 1961), featuring “Fin Fang Foom.”
bring it back. He created monsters as if he were Dr. Frankenstein on Benzedrine—monsters by the megaton. They were all Brobdingnagian in scope: hulking, lumbering masses of stone and earth. Huge blocky creatures, orange-brown or gray-green in hue, with unpronounceable names like “Kraggoom,” “Rorgg” and “Zzutak.” They’d cast endless, elongated shadows over the villages they decimated, and the villagers they trampled underfoot. To the ex-Scout, it undoubtedly felt good to be drawing with bigness again. But he wasn’t just drawing. Kirby soon learned working with Lee wasn’t going to be like his partnership with Simon, which was based on equal distribution of labor. Knowing Kirby was perfectly capable of conceiving his own storylines, Lee abandoned the traditional full-script method of comic book writing. He opted to let Kirby (along with kindred spirit Steve Ditko) simply “wing it” after a plot conference, establishing the story-flow with the art, and setting the pace as the artist saw fit. Stan (or his brother Larry Lieber) would later supply the dialogue. This “Marvel method,” as it came to be known, saved Lee time, and boosted his income; free from plotting, he was now able to increase his output. Meanwhile, for all this conception, plotting, and pacing, Marvel’s artists never received an extra dime. It didn’t take long for Kirby to get monsters out of his system. The era passed, as it was bound to: by now, with the new decade, the artist was ready to take Goodman’s comics line in a new direction: “I had to do something different. The monster stories have their limitations—you can just do so many of them. There had to be a switch because the times weren’t exactly conducive to good sales. So I felt the idea was to come up with new stuff—in other words, there had to be a blitz.” Jack Kirby, in The Comics Journal #134 6
Johnny Storm, a radically modernized version of the 1940s Human Torch, was possibly the first teenager in comics who wasn’t merely a sexually-ambivalent “kid sidekick”—whose main function was to keep the adult hero from talking to himself throughout the narrative. Johnny’s sister—Sue Storm—could dematerialize at will, and was the integrator. Her relationship to the Torch (as sibling) and to Reed (as future bride) was the unifying cord that tied the group together—and this is quite important—as a family. Aside from that, Sue was peripheral, and would pretty much stay that way. Meanwhile, The Thing was anything but peripheral. He looked like nothing on Earth: he had craggy orange flesh, and was cast as a bitter malcontent. The deep self-loathing his deformity had wrought would often turn itself outward, and seek surrogate victims like The Torch. Right from the start, Ben Grimm was the one who counted most. Quite simply, he epitomized—and catalyzed—everything that would change in comic books after him. Or more to the point, because of him. After The Thing, the idea of what constituted a comic hero would expand and complexify—not fractionally, as it had been, but radically and rapidly. The monster was also Kirby’s first metaphoric self-portrait (the cigar was a dead giveaway). Other Kirby metaphors would follow. Over time, Ben acquired a blunt sense of humor to counterbalance his angst. But it was clear his Brooklynesque wisecracks masked a deep-rooted embitterment. His anguish and pathos evoked the reader’s sympathies, and Lee understated the emotionality just enough that Ben’s poignancy never degenerated into bathos. If any one character holds the key to Marvel’s success, it’s surely The Thing (sorry Spidey-fans). Simply, he’s the seminal-figure and cornerstone of their entire universe. He’s as important as that. Ironically, despite Lee’s later boasts that he developed The Thing to be “a new breed of hero, so phantasmagoric he would re-mold the entire comics industry,” the truth—as usual—is probably more mundane. The writers (and Martin Goodman) were most likely hedging their bets on a full-fledged 1960s superhero revival, and—cautiously— wanted to keep a “monster element” in the storyline, just in case. Verdant, violent and vengeful, The Incredible Hulk was a Legends have been ferocious combustion of indefatigable energy. born from humbler stuff. He personified Jack Kirby’s rage, terror, and power.
A Behemoth Berserk
Benjamin J. Grimm, the heart and soul of Kirby’s universe, was the veritable missing link between the Atlas Monsters and the Marvel superheroes. Had the FF never materialized, The Thing might possibly have ended up as just another early ’60s monstrosity.
(THE INCREDIBLE HULK, PREMIERE DATE: MAY 1962) He was the Jack Kirby bigness personified in green. What do you do for an encore after launching The World’s Greatest Comic Magazine? Kirby’s response was a solo-star who, if anything, pushed the envelope even further than The Fantastic Four. Verdant, violent, and vital, the Hulk’s adventures had a raw intensity that had been missing from comics for years. The plots weren’t much: mostly, they were full-blown excuses for the monster to perform acts of magnificent destruction and splendid carnage. Stone walls were toppled, tanks were demolished, and entire army battalions were scattered like bowling pins. No question about it, Kirby was drawing big again. So big in fact, the crowded boroughs of New York—home of the FF— weren’t nearly spacious enough for all this grand-scale devastation. Subsequently, Kirby settled his emerald enormity in the vast painted deserts of New Mexico: and even they were barely big enough to hold him. The monster’s alter ego—Bruce Banner–-seemed haunted; and given 8
the circumstances, it suited him. A bespectacled, neurotic variation of Reed Richards, Banner came across as nervous wreckage. A nuclear physicist with a penchant for wearing purple pants, Banner seemed enigmatic and full of dark complexities. Indeed, within his frail frame two beings coexisted—intertwined but incompatible. Obviously, the writers were riffing on R.L. Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Banner’s love interest—Betty Ross—was totally bland, and her importance to the storyline was marginal at best. She epitomized vapid, white-bready characterization. Even her name was unoriginal, having been purloined from a 1940s Simon/Kirby character. Simply put, she didn’t count. Rick Jones definitely counted. Intriguingly mysterious from the onset, Jones would soon break the bonds of this series to play a larger, more complex role in the Marvel Galaxy— The Nexus. (More on him later.) As for the Hulk himself, to call him “a different kind of superhero”—besides sounding like a Lee cover blurb—would be a vast understatement. What kind of comics star was feared and vilified by every segment of society? What kind hated his own alter ego? Obviously with
A Universe a’Borning PiN-UP
The HULK
Although Thor possessed the ability to control weather, in seven initial issues (Journey Into Mystery #83-89), Kirby didn’t do much else with this bona fide god. That quickly changed after his return to the book in #101.
The Hulk, Kirby had gone even further down the line he’d drawn with The Thing. This time, perhaps, he’d gone too far.
Asgard Discovered (“THE MIGHTY THOR,” PREMIERE DATE: AUG. 1962) With one blow from his hammer, all the monsters in Journey Into Mystery’s first eighty-two issues were smashed to nothing. If the Hulk had been grotesque and looked on with revulsion by all society, Marvel’s next “blitz” would be a hero who was his diametrical opposite. The Hulk’s antithesis would have to be a perfect specimen of humanity—or better yet, a veritable god. Kirby’s early run on Thor (JIM #8389) never quite lived up to its real potential. As you might expect, Kirby was too pressured, too overworked to sustain the dynamics and intensity the series deserved. On the whole, the book was plagued by the same type of boring, ludicrous antagonists that proliferated in nearly all the 1962 Lee/Kirby superhero comics (FF excluded). Swimming the untested waters of a new superhero revival, Kirby displayed a cautious unwillingness to drop monster themes. For all he knew, there might be a core audience out there who still wanted beings like “the Stone-Men from Saturn” in every issue (see JIM #83). Almost as a matter of course, Lee’s contributions to the book were ceaseless variations of hackneyed hoods like “Thug Thacher,” and banal battalions of godless Commies. Mostly, they were downright dire. Readers who’d waited seven issues to see what Kirby could do with a superhero who was also a god, finally got their 9
answer: exactly nothing. At the point of JIM #89 (Feb. ’63), Kirby moved on, and the series degenerated into total stagnation.
From These Small Beginnings (“THE ANT-MAN,” PREMIERE DATE: SEPT. 1962) Kirby even used “bigness” to create the illusion of smallness. Contrast of course, was the key to The Astonishing Ant-Man, who premiered in Tales To Astonish #35 (or arguably TTA #27). When seen from Henry Pym’s “ant’s-eye” view, his foes seemed to tower over him like skyscrapers. To induce this optical illusion, Kirby employed nauseatingly tilted perspectives, and wildly exaggerated foreshortening. It made Ant-Man’s foes appear gargantuan as he gazed up at them, and made Pym seem microscopic when they looked down on him. This skillful exploitation of unusual angles rendered the action from a viewpoint that seemed eerie, surrealistic, and near-hallucinatory. When those giant, godless commies lifted their colossal, boot-clad feet to squash the tiny hero, it almost gave you vertigo. If you were a kid, the effect was mesmeric. Approximately, Kirby’s Ant-Man was a re-fried version of DC’s The Atom. Likewise, Pym’s adventures were endless variations on the theme of smallness. Smallness however, wasn’t in Kirby’s vocabulary. In due course, despite the weird-angle inventiveness of the artwork, the novelty soon wore off. So did the reader’s patience for the book’s ceaseless parade of one lame villain after another. In Tales To Astonish #39 for example, Pym battled a giant, talking, radioactive beetle. It was monumentally moronic. Kirby packed it in after only six issues (TTA #35-40), leaving the series in less capable hands. As it turned out, Kirby’s departure would diminish The Ant-Man’s prospects infinitely more than any amount of reducing serum.
Fire In The Sky (“THE HUMAN TORCH,”
PREMIERE DATE: OCT. 1962) He flew in on a blaze of glory. The Human Torch’s solo excursion in Strange Tales (ST #101) seemed the logical encore to Fantastic Four. In theory, the spin-off series sounded like a winning idea. Judging by reader response, The Amazing Spider-Man was already shaping up to be a hit, and Johnny Storm would undoubtedly appeal to Spidey’s core audience: young adolescent males. It’s hard to argue with demographics. Perhaps to make Johnny even more swingin’ (in the vernacular of the times), they transplanted him and his sister in Glendale—a “Smallville” type (i.e., fictional) local town. With that done, the premise was set: Johnny was your average kid with super powers, living on his own with no nagging parents to answer to—only a blonde-bombshell sister, who was every delectable inch the perfect 1960s deb. Moreover, he drove a Stingray. What kid wouldn’t relate to that? There was one hitch: It invalidated all the FF’s past history. Disconnected from Reed, Ben, and New York—then given a secret identity to boot—the new series flew in the face of all existing Fantastic Four story-structure. Continuity? Lost. Along with the storyline paradoxes, The Torch’s villains were relentless in their mediocrity: Colorless, one-dimensional losers like The Destroyer, The Sorcerer, and The Barracuda. They were human flotsam and jetsam—dire enough to make even the most bored kid go back to his homework. [Note: One in particular stands out, for all the wrong reasons: “Paste-Pot Pete ,” who carried a huge, sloppy glue bucket everywhere, was perhaps the most mindless figure in all comics. Kirby’s later transformation of Pete (to the Trapster) may have been prompted—more than anything—by a desire to rid his comic 10
In 1962, Kirby and Lee were on a winning streak in comics. Their “flawed hero” formula was producing miracles, but there was one “bug” in the system—Ant-Man. Even Kirby’s innovative “bug’s-eye-view” effects didn’t help.
for damage in a hot-pink body stocking, and had the temperament of a raging storm. Haughty, hot tempered and oozing with aristocratic arrogance, Wanda provided the matrix for most of the group’s discord. Both Magneto and Mastermind lusted for her, which would send her brother Pietro into predictable paroxysms of violence. Pietro however, was infinitely less impressive than his seductive sister: as Kirby’s most blatant imitation to date, Pietro (a.k.a. Quicksilver) was The Flash reborn in green, right down to his diagonal ‘“lightning bolt” chest emblem. Quicksilver’s closest approximation to originality was his characterization, which invariably blurred the line between hero and villain. Wanda and Pietro were confused but basically decent characters, who only joined the Brotherhood out of debt. (Magneto had saved Wanda from a throng of mob-crazed witch hunters—an early strain of Mutant xenophobia.) Quite simply, they seemed disconnected— they didn’t fit in. [Note: The Mutant siblings would eventually be reclassified as heroes, and in the process would lose their ambivalent flavor.
A GALLERY OF Kirby’s Vilest Villains!
MAGNETO First appearance: X-Men #1
Fatally, Wanda changed overnight from haughty and hot-tempered to naive and nervous under the creative control of Lee and Don Heck. After that, the sexy sorceress fell to ruin. She had no vitality left, no substance. In every way, she was gutless—finished. Like Mae West, goodness just didn’t agree with her.] Unwisely overestimating the Evil Mutant’s popularity, Kirby featured Magneto’s miscreants in almost every XMen story after their inception. After half a dozen consecutive appearances, the True Believers had more than enough. By popular demand, The Brotherhood was tom asunder by “The Stranger” in issue #11, and Stan even published an apology in the letters-page, for the group’s overemphasis in the series. It had been a great run, but by X-Men #11 (the final Kirby-drawn episode), it looked like the party was definitely over. The Stranger—whom Kirby depicted with magnificent bigness—had changed the entire tone of the book in one sweep. He seemed the final annihilator, and issue #11 would have been an entirely logical point to end the series (which by all accounts, wasn’t setting the world on fire in terms of sales). But Kirby had one last ace to play for the Mutants. For now though, he would hold it close to his vest.
Lest The Avengers (THE AVENGERS, PREMIERE DATE: SEPT. 1963) Lest the avenger pursue the slayer and overtake him. Deuteronomy 19:6 In the beginning, The Avengers was a wild ride. Of all the Marvel Silver Age teams, unquestionably the most anarchic were “Earth’s Mightiest Superheroes.” Unlike 20
MARVEL UNIVERSE CONTINUITY BYTE #1 (THE INEVITABLE RICK JONES) He was, in a word, unavoidable. He single-handedly took the concept of cross-character continuity to a whole new level—through the roof, that is. Rick Jones, the teenenigma who appeared out of nowhere in The Incredible Hulk #1, was one of the most intriguing characters in Kirby’s universe, if for no other reason than his ubiquity. He first appeared as a mysterious orphan who was responsible for the Hulk’s inception. As stated, Jones was a (possibly subconscious) reanimation of the Golden Age Bucky Barnes. In Hulk #6, Jones formed The Teen Brigade—a group of ham radio buffs who used their telecommunications talents to aid the Marvel superheroes. Ironically, Marvel’s only Silver Age “kid gang”—the type which Kirby was noted for—appears to have been a Lee/Ditko concept. In March 1963, Jones made his first of countless crossovers, appearing with The Hulk in FF #12. Next, he hopscotched to The Avengers (Avengers #1) where he would infix himself for the next seventeen consecutive issues. In December 1964, R.J. pulled double-duty appearing in Tales To Astonish #62 and Tales Of Suspense #60 simultaneously, marking the fourth and fifth Marvel titles he’d been featured in. At the point of Avengers #17 (6/65), Jones got piqued at not being considered for the group’s new line-up. Subsequently, that same month, he moved out of The Avengers directly into Tales To Astonish #68, and once again became a regular Incredible Hulk supporting cast member. The kid never saw an unemployment check in his life. In the late ’60s, Roy Thomas recognized the ubiquitous, serieshopping Jones as the undisputable Nexus of the Marvel Universe, and duly employed him as Captain Marvel’s ticket out of The Negative Zone. Later, Roy gave Rick a major role in the early ’70s “Kree/Skull War.” It was amazing how much mileage Marvel was getting from this supposedly minor Kirby character. But all that came later: going back to the 1960s, when Steranko took over Captain America, he had Rick warily don Bucky’s old uniform once again. This time, Cap didn’t go psycho on him like he’d done in Avengers #7. Instead, he finally made Rick his partner. (But probably not for sheer loyalty—remember, by this point, Jones had sworn allegiance to The Hulk, then to The Avengers, then to Cap, then back to The Hulk, and now back to CA again. “Opportunist” may be the word that applies.) However you choose to label him, Rick Jones played one of the most contrasting and complex roles in The Silver Age—his numerous cross-title appearances were crucial links in Marvel’s vast chain of continuity. Ironically, in an entirely fitting twist of fate, once Rick began fighting side-by-side with Cap in Bucky’s old uniform, he became the living reincarnation of the Golden Age character who probably spawned him to begin with. In a strange sense, it was another completing of the circle. (left column) Hulk #1, Hulk #6 (by Steve Ditko), Fantastic Four #12, Avengers #1. (right column) Tales To Astonish #62 (by Ditko), Tales of Suspense #60, Avengers #17 (by Don Heck), Tales To Astonish #68, Avengers #7.
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Gallery Commentary by Shane Foley
(right) Shown here is a rough photocopy of Jack’s pencils from Strange Tales #141. Though he was generally doing layouts on the series, for this issue, he produced much tighter pencils for inker Frank Giacoia. (page 38) A Strange Tales #146 discovery—go read it! Thanks to Pete Von Sholly for alerting us. Sean Howe, in the course of researching his recent book Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, unearthed a nice batch of Fantastic Four #61 pencil stats, so let’s dig in: (page 39) Fantastic Four #61 pencils, from page 17: Sandman, visually created by Ditko, had no real need of a visual upgrade—and indeed some readers objected to it—but it seems that during this prime period in his career, Kirby simply couldn’t help himself. (Although who knows— maybe Stan asked for the redesign?) But one of the practical reasons given for the costume was to give Sandman extra abilities, courtesy of the Wizard—and this stunningly drawn page puts that idea into action.
(page 40) Fantastic Four #61, page 10: Panel one is inspired design. Amidst the chaos, all four characters are easily identified by the reader, as his eye is directed through and around the oval-shaped action. Then, when the reader is ready to move to the next panel, Reed’s arm near Sue leads the eye directly to Sandman in the second panel. Then Sandman’s blast takes the eye directly to Sue’s head in panel three. Superbly clear storytelling. And, amazingly, Jack draws Sue with broken lines, rather than leaving that to the inker. (page 41) Fantastic Four #61, page 13: For years, Kirby enthusiasts thought that John Romita added his Peter Parker and Mary Jane heads to panel two—now we have proof! Looking at panel three, and seeing the amazing detail there, who would guess that Kirby produced at least three pages per day? No corners cut here! (pages 42-43) Fantastic Four #61, page 14, before and after inking. This page shows how closely Stan followed Jack’s border notes, often using almost the exact phrasing, while deliberately avoiding others. In panel two, ‘strange beams of unearthly spectrum’ become ‘spectrum beams’ (to me, Stan’s revision makes less sense than Jack’s original), while Jack’s ‘something is really cooking’ is much improved by Stan and kept in spirit only.
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Mark Evanier
Jack F.A.Q.s A column of Frequently Asked Questions about Kirby
In lieu of Mark’s regular column this issue, we proudly present his 2008 Kirby Tribute Panel, featuring three key players in the early Marvel Universe: Roy Thomas, Joe Sinnott, and Stan Goldberg.
made enormous sense. To this day I am amazed how many times I’d be walking down the street and suddenly something Jack said to me in 1973 pops into my head, and I just suddenly go, “Oh, yeah, I get it now. It applies now.” Roy, come on up! You all know Roy Thomas, everybody. [audience applauds as Roy joins panel] Around 1972 or ’73 Jack said when we were at the San Diego convention, “Someday the San Diego convention, it’s going to take up the entire city of San Diego, and it’s going to be huge. And it’ll be where Hollywood comes every year to sell the movies they made last year, and to find all the movies they’ll make next year.” And that’s what’s happened.
2008 Jack Kirby Tribute Panel Held November 1, 2008 at the Big Apple Comic-Con in New York City. Moderated by Mark Evanier, and featuring Roy Thomas, Joe Sinnott and Stan Goldberg. Transcribed by Steven Tice, edited by John Morrow and copyedited Mark Evanier. The full video of this panel can be found at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xIyH3rwdCQ&feature=related
(right) On the back of a stat of his art from Strange Tales #138 (Nov. 1965—sent to him by Marvel to help him keep up with issue-to-issue continuity), Jack scribbled these cryptic words in pencil (apparently during a bout of research). After a bit of detective work, we discovered that these are the names of four gods of Norse mythology, which Jack used in Thor Annual #2 (1966).
(below) Kirby poses poolside at the 1973 San Diego Comic-Con. Photo by Shel Dorf.
MARK EVANIER: I’m always surprised by the number of people whose lives Jack touched, including people in other lines of work. Right after he died, I got this letter from a kid, going on and on about how Jack influenced his work. The guy was a spot welder. And he actually said that Jack Kirby had encouraged him to be the best damned spot welder in the world. I think Jack would have liked that. He would have been proud, probably much more proud than if the kid had gotten into comics. As many times as I am made aware of Jack’s impact, I still continue to be surprised by who I hear from, and how many people, and how intense their feelings still are towards this man. We’re now at the point, at the stage, where Jack has now been gone for fourteen years, so there are a lot of people who are very heavy into comics who’ve never had the chance to meet Jack. How many people here met Jack? [About a tenth of the room raises its hands] There was a period of time, if you went to a San Diego convention, and cared enough to wait twenty minutes, you could meet Jack. He was the most accessible guy in the world. All these people got to meet him and shake his hand, and say how much they loved his work, and hear some completely incoherent comment from him that they would pretend was normal. [audience laughter] And then, three years later, they figure it out. “Oh, that’s what he meant.” But we’re now to the point where people are coming up to me and saying, “I never had a chance to meet Jack.” They want to shake my hand because my hand shook Jack’s. You know, I met Groucho Marx, and I felt privileged that way. I met a lot of very important people who are no longer with us, people who affected others’ lives, and it’s the same way with Jack. It’s something that we will always carry around. It doesn’t make us any better. It just makes people envious. [laughs] And they all say, “What was he like?” He was like Jack. He was this sharp little tough guy with a New York accent whose mind raced from—I tell people, most people’s brains, they start with A, they go to B, and they go to C. Jack would start with C, then he’d do A, then he’d do R, then he’d do W, then he’d be On Beyond Zebra. He would have all new letters to get to. And at some point it all
ROY THOMAS: Literally? EVANIER: He said that. Yes, he did. And you all know Joe Sinnott, ladies and gentlemen, [applause as Joe and Stan Goldberg join panel] and Mr. Stan Goldberg. [audience applauds] Can somebody stick another chair up here in case Dick Ayers shows up?
All right, good afternoon. I’m Mark Evanier. That makes this officially a Jack Kirby panel. [applause] People in the back, if you can’t hear someone, would you wave to me and tell me that you can’t hear? Otherwise, I’m going to presume you hear. I keep doing these panels at conventions about Jack because—I go to conventions and people talk to me about Jack all the time. So it’s nice to get everyone together, and all the Kirby fans in the building, because we are, after all, the classiest, smartest ones at the convention. It’s great to talk with some of the people who had the pleasure of working with Jack, contributing to his life and his career, and being a part of all that. I think you all know what all of these gentlemen have done over the years. Roy’s going to have to leave early, so I’m going to talk to 49
with Jack—maybe a couple of times. I was there for one of the more infamous things that ever happened to Stan and Jack—the reporter for the Herald Tribune article that time, I was there for a lot of that, and I saw Jack just sitting there being Jack and not doing anything, and Stan just being agitated, but not jumping on any tables or belittling Jack. When the article came out a week or two later, Stan was almost as livid as Jack—especially once Jack let him know how livid he was, understandably, I think—because it made it look like Stan was the prince and Jack was this clown, and that’s not what Stan intended or what actually I think was there. This reporter was trying so hard to make Stan and Marvel look good that Jack—you know, the idea of thinking of Jack as somebody who just stood there not contributing anything, it just shows how little the guy knew, right? He obviously couldn’t see anything past what he wanted to see. So I don’t know if I’m happy or sad to have witnessed that, because I consider it one of the real nails in the coffin of their relationship. But it was such a thrill that I’d occasionally get lucky enough to be at a lunch with Stan, and Jack, and Romita, and Sol Brodsky, five or six of us. I wasn’t at many of those. I do remember one thing Jack said at one of them that came back to remind me later. I think he was talking to Romita or Sol, and he was saying, “I know this. One of the next big things when somebody turns around and really revolutionizes comics, it’s not going to be Marvel, or it’s not going to be DC. It’s going to be a couple of guys in a garage somewhere that come up with an idea.” I thought of that when the Ninja Turtles became so big. That was almost a classic case of what Jack was talking about. He was not an organized thinker, I don’t think, but he was a visionary, and you had to make all the allowances for crazy genius, you know, that you made for anybody; well, you had to make them all for Jack. Stan was sort of a genius in his own way, but he was organized. The two of them together, I think, were even better than the two of them apart, and that was pretty formidable.
Sol Brodsky (we assume) vents his frustration on the original art to Thor #146 (Nov. 1967); it appears Jack had a tendency to leave the wrong amount of space for the indicia on splash pages.
him first, and I’ll tell you a little bit later about some of the new Kirby projects that are coming up. If you’re one of those people who feels they have to buy everything Jack did, boy, are you going to be spending a lot of money in the next few years. Briefly, the reason I am in New York is on Monday I am meeting with Joe Simon to finalize the contents of a book that Harry N. Abrams Publishing is going to bring out, the first volume of Simon and Kirby material. In my book we printed a Fighting American story off original art: whiteout, smudges, paste-ups, and all, and they’re putting together a book. It’s going to be 350 pages of Simon and Kirby artwork printed off the original art on a little larger page size. Joe has all this stuff in storage, plus I’m borrowing some from collectors. It’s going to be the first of several volumes. Before that, Titan Books is putting out a book which I’m also writing a Foreword to, which is kind of a Simon and Kirby story showcase, some of the best Simon and Kirby stories, including stuff they did for DC and Marvel. The book from Abrams is going to be all stuff from Black Magic, Fighting American, all the non-DC/Marvel stuff, and the Titan book is going to include some DC and Marvel stories and be a history of Joe’s work with Jack, and some of the stuff that Joe did also on his own, in both cases, and so there’s this new flurry of books. Everything Jack did is going to get reprinted in the next few years, with the possible exception of something like 2001, where there’s a rights encumbrance. Maybe even that will turn up someplace. Let me ask each of these people a couple questions, briefly. Let’s start with Roy, here. Roy, you were witness to an enormous part of Marvel history, and were there when Jack and Stan were doing what is arguably their finest work together. What can you tell us about what went on in that office when those guys were plotting stuff together? Sol Brodsky used to claim that Stan would actually jump up on the desks and strike poses. Is this true? THOMAS: I myself never saw Stan jump up on a desk, but Sal Buscema saw him, and a lot of other people did. Maybe Stan Goldberg, he can tell you. I mean, he would be very agitated and go around. He was getting a little older by this stage, so it might have been a couple years after I got there— he was only in his forties—but he jumped up, he clicked his heels with his wife at a dinner, and he terribly sprained an ankle or something. He was walking around on crutches for a couple of weeks. But, you know, he was kind of irrepressible. I don’t think I ever really witnessed Stan and Jack talk about a story—or not at length; maybe a few words here and there. They’d typically do that in cars on the way home, or over the phone. I used to have to sit down in a couple of meetings with Romita and so forth, but not so much 50
few times he deviated from that, he wasn’t very happy. It didn’t work for him creatively. Joe, I think you’ve answered this question many times: would you take us through the process— again, because people are interested in this. You go to your mailbox, the man hands you a package. You open it up and there’s the new Fantastic Four. What’s the first thing you do? It’s all penciled, it’s all lettered. What do you do? SINNOTT: Well, the first thing, every page I ever got from Jack I was in awe of, especially when I did Fantastic Four #5. I couldn’t believe it. I had never seen the book. I didn’t even know they existed. And I said, “Gee, there’s something special here.” See, back in those days Stan was always trying something new, and we never expected anything. Spider-Man, we never expected things to materialize like they did, and even the Fantastic Four, I’m sure—when I saw those characters, I said, “Gee, this is really something special.” At that time we were so used to doing the monster books and whatever, that Stan, as you know, was always looking for a new trend to make some money for Marvel. But when I saw Fantastic Four #5, especially Jack’s—I had done a few little things with Jack previous to that, a couple of monster books, I think. But, in any case, the characters were so great, I just couldn’t wait to get into inking the story in #5. It had Doctor Doom, of course, and it was just terrific. But, Mark, every time that I got Jack’s pages, even right up to the time he left the Fantastic Four, I was always in awe, and you couldn’t wait to open up his packages. And once in a great while there were little things that I had to change, but that was only normal. And Stan expected it. Stan called me one time. Above is Stan Lee’s plot synopsis for what became late 1966 Marvel releases. First is Thor #134-135 (Nov.He said, “Joe, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it,” Dec. 1966), followed by Fantastic Four #57-60 (Dec. 1966-March 1967), and finally the Captain America he said. “We like what you’re doing on the Fantastic feature in Tales of Suspense #82-84 (Oct.-Dec. 1966). You have to assume this was given to Jack, prior to him beginning work on any of these stories, and it’s fascinating to see how he took these basic ideas, and Four.” So I would add a little bit here and there, but built multi-issue arcs out of them—great stories, but they aren’t regarded as his most pivotal work. that was early on. Then it got to the point where I Interestingly, these immediately follow Jack’s most epic creative bursts on each series: FF #44-52 (ending said to myself, “You know, that’s not being fair to July 1966) with all the new character introductions; Thor #125-130 (ending July 1966) with Thor and Jack.” So I started inking Jack more like Jack had penHercules battling Pluto in Hades; and TOS #79-81 (starting July 1966), with Cap vs. the Red Skull over the ciled. You know, originally I’d say to myself, “Gee, Cosmic Cube. So July 1966 issues would seem to point to some kind of a creative turning point here. Jack doesn’t know how to draw ears. I’ll give them Jack was a “pack rat” who saved everything, but very few of these synopses have surfaced. What does the Alex Raymond ears, you know, how ears should really lack of ones for earlier issues indicate about Lee and Kirby’s working relationship, both before and after these late 1966 issues? We’ll have a greater examination of this theme in TJKC #66 next summer. look.” But, of course, then it wasn’t Kirby. Kirby had a way as we know, with his muscles, they didn’t exist only problem was that—if Frank had been able to ink more, a little the way he drew them, but it certainly told the story. And everything bit, he could have done the books that Joe didn’t do. But, unfortuJack did was so dynamic that you didn’t have to change a bit, actually. nately, he was just never organized enough to do that. So we were Although we couldn’t help but change a little bit here, a little bit really lucky in having such wonderful inkers. But even Vinnie Colletta there. Add a little bit here and a little bit there. And I think, all those that everybody dumps on, the readers just loved it. Of course, it was things that I did with Jack, if I did anything, I enhanced Jack’s work a Jack, but somehow or other that had a different approach and that little bit, made it a little slicker. And a lot of people liked the period looked great. But Joe and Frank were the guys. that I was working with Jack, [Fantastic Four issues in] the 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s. But, then again, they were great characters. I mean, the EVANIER: I think there was one other guy. Bill Everett. Silver Surfer, the Inhumans. That was a great period that Stan was THOMAS: Yeah. Gil always thought he was one of the best. He did a writing and creating these great characters. So it was a great period couple of Thors, Bill Everett, yeah. to be working with Jack, and I’m glad I was part of it, really. EVANIER: Would you thank Roy Thomas for spending this time with us? [applause, Roy leaves] I’m going to go to questions from the audience in a moment, but first, Joe, I want you to tell me now, you get a package of Jack’s in the mail. You open it up. It’s an issue of Fantastic Four. What is the very first thing you do? Do you read the story first?
THOMAS: I just want to say one other thing before I leave. I don’t think that many people, at least, that went through that period, thought that anybody except Joe Sinnott was the best inker that Jack had for almost anything. There was only one other person, I think, who could have perhaps wrangled him, and whose work I liked about as much whenever I saw it, but there was very little of it. That was Giacoia, who when he would do those few Captain Americas they did, it was different. It was probably a little closer to Jack. The
SINNOTT: Never. I never read a Fantastic Four story. Can you believe 58
Barry Forshaw
Titan’s S&K “Horror” volume is out now, with stories from Black Magic and Strange World of Your Dreams published from 1950 to 1954—320 pages, with more great art reconstruction by Harry Mendryk.
“Prison 2000 A.D.” was only reprinted in Strange Tales Annual #2. “The Hole In The Sky” has not been reprinted—so there, Barry Forshaw, there’s still a need for this column!
Obscura among S&K enthusiasts. Ever since we announced the library, people have been clamouring for it. And this will be the only place fans can get all of Joe and Jack’s material from Black Magic, due in large part to Joe Simon’s ability to think ahead. Because Joe copyrighted several issues of Black Magic in the Simon and Kirby name, meaning that no one can release it without formal authorization. These are key issues, too—some of the most influential stories they produced. All together, this volume includes all of the stories Joe and Jack themselves illustrated. In the interest of being complete, we even included stories where Jack only contributed part of the artwork, then handed it off to other guys in the studio. This is the best of the best. “Black Magic and Strange World of Your Dreams were unique on the horror scene of the 1950s, when lurid gore was capturing all of the headlines. Joe and Jack—along with Mort Meskin, Bill Draut, Bruno Premiani (Doom Patrol), George Roussos, Marvin Stein, and the rest of the S&K Studio—favored a subtler, more sophisticated approach. No less frightening, it didn’t rely on cheap tricks to the degree other comics might. “That’s likely what causes such loyalty among the fans— the sense that they’re not just reading examples of ’50s horror. They’re reading the best of ’50s horror. I’ve long claimed that, with stories about the beautiful young woman among the freaks, the thing outside of the plane, and the evil living doll, Black Magic must have been read by someone who went on to produce The Twilight Zone—perhaps Rod Serling, perhaps someone on his staff. And even if that’s not the case, the fact that we can compare Black Magic to The Twilight Zone shows how high the bar was set. “This was material that struck dread into the hearts of Joe and Jack, though not in the way you might think. “Like everyone in the comic book industry, they were glued to the television in 1954, watching the Kefauver hearings into the relationship between comics and juvenile delinquency. They watched as, in Joe’s eyes, William Gaines fell apart under cross-examination. But that was nothing compared to the moment when a copy of Black Magic #29 was held up— the famous “Beautiful Freak” cover. Though there were no dripping hatchets, or severed heads, or bloodthirsty zombies—even though the horror was largely psychological— their work was being condemned on national television. “Black Magic only lasted four more issues in its original incarnation. It was revived a couple of times, but never with the quality presentation it deserved. Until now. Thanks to Harry Mendryk and, of course, Joe Simon himself, fans will be able to pore over some of the finest comics in the history of the industry. And wherever he is, Joe will be able to watch as, one more time, he and Jack scare the crap out of us.”
A regular column focusing on Kirby’s least known work, by Barry Forshaw
THE SIMON & KIRBY LIBRARY: HORROR! I don’t care if your roof has collapsed or that the ground floor of your house is devastated by floods. I don’t care if your younger brother needs money spending to help cure his drug habit. I don’t care that there is an expensive new restaurant you want to try. Here’s what you should spend your money on: the latest, amazing addition to the Simon & Kirby library (following the deluxe edition of the science-fiction stories), Simon and Kirby: Horror! Put together by the same elite team as that volume (Steve Saffel and Harry Mendryk), it is not only a relatively inexpensive way to acquire a conflation of several pricey books, but the restoration (in larger format and with perfect color placings by Mendryk) has the artwork looking better than it ever did on the stories in the original issues. What’s more, once again matte paper has been used so that the feel of the original books is sensitively reproduced rather than the glossy stock used in many reprint volumes, which makes the colours look garish. The contents? Well if you’re reading this magazine, you don’t need me to extol the virtues of such Jack Kirby masterpieces as Black Magic and its ilk. Not that such considerations have stopped me in the past—several times in this column you might remember that I’ve praised this memorable title, which unlike many American horror comics of the 1950s enjoyed a reasonable run in Great Britain in 68page black-and-white editions. And just as in the States, it was cited in various attempts at comic censorship—and who needs a better reason to read it than that? Rather than tell you just how good these stories are again, I decided to ask senior acquisitions editor Steve Saffel again (who I’d spoken to about the Simon & Kirby ScienceFiction Library) and art restoration maestro Harry Mendryk to tell me just what working on this book meant to them. So... Steve? Harry?
Harry Mendryk: “I originally started doing restorations of the line art of Simon and Kirby covers. This was sometime in the mid-to-late ’90s, and even at that date, using bleach to remove the colors from old comic books was financially out of the question. I already had some experience with Photoshop and so I devised a procedure to digitally bleach scans of the covers. It was by no means perfect and would require some touching up, again using Photoshop. I finished
Steve Saffel: “The Simon & Kirby Library: Horror! may be the most anticipated volume in the series— for some reason, the material from Black Magic inspires some of the most intensely fervent interest 64
An ongoing examination of Kirby’s art and compositional skills
tell, but he certainly channeled it into his vital and energetic artwork, particularly with combative characters like the Thing. In 1933, a film appeared that must have exploded like a rush of primordial energy in the impressionable brain of the then sixteen-yearold Kirby. The impact of King Kong is difficult to appreciate today, but suffice it to say that nothing like it had ever been seen before. The cutting edge technology of stop-motion animation allowed the filmmakers to create the illusion of a gargantuan creature in a primeval lost world, and then see him transported to 20th century New York City. King Kong has been analyzed extensively, yielding interpretations running the gamut from a metaphor for the subjugation of man’s primitive instincts, to that of the enslavement of African-Americans. What is certain is that Kong’s treatment at the hands of a callous humanity makes him an extremely sympathetic and tragic figure, and it is easy to identify with his plight. Since over the years, Kirby has based several stories on the King Kong template, one can easily imagine that the film had a profound impact on him. When Kirby returned to Martin Goodman’s Atlas line in 1959, he and Stan Lee embarked on a series of monster stories. One of these, appearing in Tales To Astonish #12, bears a striking resemblance to King Kong. In this story, Gorgilla, a giant jungle dwelling primate, is discovered in a remote location in Borneo. After the requisite battle with a T-Rex, Gorgilla stows away on a ship and comes to New York. Here (left) in the first panel on the third page of the story, is a powerful image of the creature moving towards the vessel that will carry him to America. Unlike Kong, Gorgilla was a willing immigrant who went seeking some sort of bond with his distant fellow primates, as emphasized in Stan Lee’s text. Of course, Gorgilla’s intent is completely misunderstood and he is instead seen as a threat, until the very end of the story. Of particular interest is that in the story’s climax, Gorgilla climbs the Statue of Liberty, the symbol of America’s willingness to embrace the immigrant, in order to apprehend a villainous saboteur. There is great poignancy in the wide panel (shown on next page) where the creature is shot while clinging to his perch that is the crown of the statue. The visual impression is that he is impaled on the spikes of the crown. As he, like Kong, tragically falls to his death, one can see in panel two that he mimics the statue’s pose by raising aloft the hand holding the spy. What is even more tragic here is that the humans harassing Gorgilla have been unaware
Thing Kong (below) Gorgilla, from Tales To Astonish #12 (Oct. 1960).
irby has said on several occasions that he identifies with the Thing, the grumpy orange-skinned monster he co-created with Stan Lee in the first issue of the Fantastic Four. The son of Austrian Jewish immigrants, Kirby grew up on the mean streets of New York’s Lower East Side. The area was teeming with rival street gangs, and as the artist details in his “Street Code” story, he often fought to assert himself or just to survive. Just how much anger Kirby carried inside him is difficult to
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Isn’t it sometimes hard to believe that people can be so passionate about the same subject, yet have such diametrically opposite views on that same material? Such was obvious as I read Mark Alexander’s “Lee and Kirby: The Wonder Years” in TJKC #58. I think I disagreed with his views almost as often as I agreed with them; entertaining and perplexing at the same time. One statement of his in particular immediately got my little brain ticking over. Hence, these fannish ramblings, which I’ve entitled:
If What?
By Their Enemies Shall Ye Know Them by Shane Foley (below) It’s tough to fear a man in a skirt, but easier than a guy in a toga. Good job, Jack!
n page 44, Mark writes that “Jack and Stan’s strong suit was creating noble, dignified heroes....” How true! But then a sentence later, he writes, “Likewise, the duo’s greatest failing was their inability to concoct the antithesis of these heroes—menacing villains, evildoers and bad guys.” Failing? I couldn’t disagree more. To my mind, that line should read, “Likewise, the duo’s similar success was their ability to concoct the greatest villains and evil doers and bad guys ever assembled in one comic, anywhere.” Certainly, a huge chunk of the Kirby FF’s status in comic book history comes from that supporting cast of ‘dignified heroes’ which no other strip came close to matching. And more often than not, these, rather than true ‘baddies’, were the antagonists. And why not? Time and again, Marvel showcased conflicts that weren’t always about ‘good vs evil’, but about misunderstanding, differing perspectives and the like. That’s why the FF fought Sub-Mariner and the Thing fought the Surfer and so on. But even if we remove all these wonderful characters—SubMariner, Watcher, Inhumans, Silver Surfer, Black Panther, and perhaps the Wanderer and Him—we still see what I think is the greatest baddie line-up ever. As a young reader in the ’60s, that’s certainly how I felt. And I still do. Right from the word “go,” when I was a young reader, it seemed the whole Marvel
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Universe, except in Ditko’s books, was filled with villains with some Kirby DNA. DC couldn’t compare. I liked Batman as a hero, but, to me, his rogues gallery of riddling, giggling, party-dressed buffoons didn’t hold a candle to Kirby’s power-charged, thundering super-villains. The fact that these early Marvel villains have kept being rehashed and returned to, over and over for the last 40 years, surely means there are many others who think as highly of them as I do. (And yes, I know many think just as highly of Batman’s Rogues Gallery—but not me.) I’m not only thinking Dr. Doom or Galactus. Their place as two of the best villainous creations in comic book history is certain. It’s the rest of the FF’s baddies that concern me. Why do I love them? A couple of reasons. Many were, by today’s standards, undeveloped character-wise. Back in the ’60s, who was? But during that time, these colorful characters bounced off the page with a life that other companies’ baddies didn’t have, and made the Marvel world alive! These were comics that made no apology for being comics—yet added just enough humor and characterization to stand out from the others. And we loved it! Lee and Kirby together were dynamite. Stan Lee provided the glib and witty dialogue that stood head and shoulders above others. But more often than not, it was Kirby who did it for me! Why? His baddies looked terrific! And they came from or lived in an environment that looked terrific! It was, and still is, the unique and powerful designs that Kirby gave each of them that screams ‘potential’ to a superhero reader. Combine this with the evocative places Kirby put many of them in (and sometimes the character that arose from the interplay with the FF during their conflict) and that potential just oozed out! (A side thought for a moment about Galactus: I wonder if he would have the status he has today if he looked different. What if that wonderful page 2 shot in FF #49 had Galactus looking very similar to the Watcher—both giants in togas, as shown at left? Would he have returned as often as he has? Or would someone have tried to create a better character? After all, it’s not like the name is anything special—‘Galactus’ is as corny as ‘Dr. Doom’ or ‘Mr. Fantastic’.) Most of the best known and most used Kirby FF villains are those that were featured in his ‘cosmic’ era (from about the FF mid-40s up)—either villains that were created then, or older villains that Kirby returned and revamped. Doom is the greatest example, of course, of an older becoming ‘upgraded’. But as the ‘cosmic age’ dawned, others, like the Frightful Four, were right there too. Suddenly, after Galactus, the Surfer, the Wanderer, Klaw and the Panther had all been introduced, and when
Retrospective
Key Late Career Moments by John Morrow, with Richard Kolkman and friends
ontinuing our look at key moments in Jack’s life and career from TJKC #59 (which covered Marvel in the 1960s) and #62 (which covered 1970-1975), we present this timeline of key moments that affected Kirby’s tenure after he left DC Comics in 1975. Of invaluable help were Richard Kolkman (who sent me an extensive list to begin work from), Eric Nolen-Weathington, Ray Wyman, Tom Kraft, Glen Gold, and Rand Hoppe, as well as Mark Evanier’s book KIRBY: King of Comics and Sean Howe’s Marvel Comics: The Untold Story. This isn’t a complete list of every important date in Kirby’s later career history, but should hit most of the main ones. Please send us additions and corrections. Next issue, I’ll work on pivotal moments in Jack’s 1940s1950s career with Joe Simon. My rule of thumb: Cover dates were generally two-three months later than the date the book appeared on the stands, and six months ahead of when Kirby was working on the stories, so I’ve assembled the timeline according to those adjusted dates— not the cover dates—to set it as close as possible to real-time.
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• Mighty Marvel Con (March 22–24). Marie Severin spots Kirby going into Stan’s office, and yells down the Marvel halls, “Kirby’s back!” • March 24: Kirby signs a three-year contract with Marvel (valid through April 30, 1978), and appears at the Mighty Marvel Con held at the Hotel Commodore in New York City. Kirby stuns MMC attendees with the announcement of his return, and in regards to what he will be doing for Marvel, Kirby says, “It’ll electrocute you in the mind!” • May: Barry Alfonso’s fanzine Mysticogryfil #2 features an interview with Kirby.
Early 1970s • May 30, 1972: Kirby signs an agreement with Marvel, effectively relinquishing any claim he might have to the copyright on Captain America. This document is used against Joe Simon’s efforts to secure the copyright on Captain America Comics #1-10. • Late 1972: Rocket’s Blast Comic Collector #94 features an erroneous newsflash titled “Kirby Leaves DC,” which speculates what might happen if Kirby returned to Marvel. The article creates quite a stir in fandom. • Summer 1974: Neal Kirby asks Roy Thomas to meet the Kirbys for coffee at the San Diego Comic-Con, to determine Marvel’s possible interest in having Jack return. Roy tells Jack he and Stan would be glad to have him back.
1975 • Early 1975: It is presumed that Kirby talks with Stan Lee regarding the possibility of Kirby returning to Marvel.
• May 25: Wings’ album Venus and Mars featuring the song “Magneto and Titanium Man,” is released (the cover of the 45 rpm single is shown above, which featured repurposed non-Kirby art from Marvel). • June 2: Menomonee Falls Gazette V4, #181 features an interview with Kirby. • July: Mediascene #15 features a preview article entitled “The King Returns.” • August (October cover date): The Marvel Comics Bullpen page announces, “The King is Back! ’Nuff said!” and lists his future projects as 2001, Captain America, and a giant Silver Surfer book. • September (November cover date): New Kirby covers hit the stands: Fantastic Four #164, Invaders #3, Iron Man #80, Ka-Zar #12, Marvel Premiere #26 (featuring Hercules), Marvel Super-Heroes #54 (featuring Hulk), Marvel Two-inOne #12 (guest-starring Iron Man), and Thor #241. • September: Captain America #192 features a next issue promo with art by Kirby and Frank Giacoia (next page, top).
• February 20: Longtime Marvel letterer Arthur “Artie” Simek dies.
• September: FOOM #11 features a preview of 2001: A Space Odyssey, cover art for Captain America #193 and #194, and “Kirby Speaks,” an interview with Kirby.
• March 18: Kirby visits the Marvel offices for the first time since his departure in 1970. The visit takes place on the Monday before the 1975
• September: Kirby ignores editorial pleas to integrate the rest of the Marvel Universe into his Captain America series.
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• November (January 1976 cover date): Captain America #193 is published, beginning the “Madbomb” storyline, which is timed to end on America’s bicentennial.
It’s not easy...
...being green!
Incidental Iconography An ongoing analysis of Kirby’s visual shorthand, and how he inadvertently used it to develop his characters, by Sean Kleefeld
ne of the many reasons why Jack’s run on the Fantastic Four is considered by some to be his best work, is the ongoing inventiveness he put on display every month for nearly a decade. New characters and ideas were thrown out on a regular basis and, considering how much was put into each issue, it’s a wonder Jack was able to keep track of any of it! It’s in that light that I want to bring up Triton of the Inhumans. Triton was, from the start, something of an outcast of the group, needing his body to be almost constantly submersed in water in order to survive. As he was also able to breathe underwater, he was often used as a scout, using local waterways to access areas others could not. So he was frequently at a physical distance from the rest of the Inhuman Royal Family—almost as much as Crystal was. This separation seems to have spurred an interesting series of design changes by Jack that he didn’t apply to the other Inhumans. Interestingly, Jack devised a solution to Triton’s hydration problem before the character even debuted! When readers first see Triton in Fantastic Four #45 (top), he is shrouded in what looks like a large cloak. We do see a glimpse of his scaley arm, though, so I think it’s clear that Jack did not design this outfit without knowing what the character looked like underneath. In a fight in the very next issue, in fact, Triton’s “sealed moisture bag” gets torn up, revealing him to be a merman of sorts as he
dives into the harbor. Once the Seeker captures him, we’re able to see some more details, notably his seaweed-like eyebrows and fins on his arms. (Although the cover of the issue does somewhat spoil the surprise of his appearance.) The following issue provides an even closer look on the opening splash where we see his webbed fingers. This seems to be the design Jack intended from the outset, despite not providing a clear image of it until FF #47. When we see Triton again in FF #54 (left), Maximus has created a circulation system to provide water to Triton’s body without the cumbersome moisture bag. The system consists of cuffs on Triton’s ankles and wrists with a hose system running up his arms and shoulders. Strangely, there’s no comparable hose running down his legs, nor is his new belt, which looks to be a small water pump, connected to anything. But more tellingly, as far as Jack’s design sensibility goes, Triton seems to have lost his dorsal and arm fins. Further, his webbed feet are now drawn as scale-covered boots, complete with a distinct heel and sole. This is a Triton now more streamlined for a superhero story, one that does not have to be encumbered with awkward running poses or potentially tricky perspective down his back. I doubt Jack had those specific issues in mind when he was drawing those pages, but I think it falls more naturally within his oeuvre when those concerns don’t need to be brought up. As I repeatedly try to point out in this column, Jack’s sense of iconography in his
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Cut ’n’ Paste
FF #110: The Lost Collage by Richard Kolkman
he (almost) complete list of Jack Kirby’s published collage art in TJKC #59 is of great help when exploring his innovative cut-andpaste visions (only the cover of Fantastic Four #33—vs. SubMariner—was overlooked). Which prompts the question: is there one more undocumented Kirby collage lurking in the Marvel universe? Take a careful look at Fantastic Four #110; is that an unused Kirby collage on the (un-numbered) page four? It’s known that a pile of “orphan” pages of unused art by Marvel artists was kept in the production department of the “House of Ideas.” It’s possible an unused Kirby collage page intended for Fantastic Four #76 sneaked its way into this post-Kirby FF comic book. (Note: the FF #110 collage page could also have been intended for FF #75, page 12.) While the Fourth World was powering up and lifting off at National (DC), perhaps the half-story (intended for FF #102) remaindered for FF #108 wasn’t the final original Kirby art to be published in Fantastic Four’s first era. Who created the collage in FF #110 [shown at left] ? Stan Lee? John Romita? John Verpoorten? Joe Sinnott is on record as disliking the collage pages, and John Buscema (to my knowledge) never created a collage page for comics. So it is likely FF #110 features an unused Kirby collage. It even looks like Kirby’s style of collage art. The large, symbolic (carbon molecule) structures and rocky planetoid surfaces match the art in FF #76. When Reed (and his dialogue) are replaced with the Silver Surfer’s dialogue from FF #76 [page 6, shown on next page] and a tiny (speculative) Kirby Surfer figure is photoshopped in, an interesting page appears [as shown in the large graphic on next page]. Visually, a tiny Surfer in a limitless space (collage) page portrays freedom. That would have worked better than the claustrophobic, cluttered page that was published in FF #76. This was at a point where Kirby was discontented at Marvel and was losing control of his creation—the Silver Surfer. Suppose Stan Lee disliked the portrayal of a small Surfer on the intended collage page in FF #76—especially since the heralded roll-out was underway for Silver Surfer #1 (Aug. 1968). Maybe Stan asked for a re-draw of page six— requesting a large Surfer. Compare the full-page figure of the awkward, akimbo Silver Surfer in FF #76 (right) to the elegant portrait of the Surfer in FF #72 (page 6, above). It’s “goofy” (FF #76) vs. “graceful” (FF #72). The clumsy and claustrophobic Surfer as published in FF #76 is practically saying, “I’m here—but I’m not graceful.” Here, Kirby is definitely filling the page with Surfer (and space clutter) from corner to corner! The Surfer’s pose recalls “Silver Burper” from Not Brand Echh. Kirby’s anger was growing, resulting in disinterested Kirby—and disinterested Kirby always shows. Fantastic Four #76 falls squarely in the four-issue “Microverse” story arc that was incisively detailed by Glen Gold in TJKC #61 (“Where Kirby Stopped”). If it is an unused Kirby art page in FF #110—was Jack paid for it? And finally; it’s odd that no readers’ letters about FF #110 were ever printed on the
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(next page, top right) Kirby’s depiction of the Microverse is a dead ringer for the collage in FF #110 (below).
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Adam McGovern Know of some Kirby-inspired work that should be covered here? Send to: Adam McGovern PO Box 257 Mt. Tabor, NJ 07878
As A Genre A regular feature examining Kirby-inspired work, by Adam McGovern
Victory Orbit (right) Benjamin Marra’s monumental offering to the New Gods in this theoretical cover image. (below) Fiffe’s design is killing it in this MODOK sketch. (next page, top) A bit of Jack’s own 1980s Captain Victory magic. (next page, bottom) Second-generation Kirbytech and female fury from Fiffe’s self-published phenomenon Copra.
Jack Kirby may have been the most conceptual of comic artists—his system of squiggling, krackling texture and tangles of monolithic tech being a kind of hieroglyphic of the epic struggle to exist, no matter what surface or character they took shape as. And Joe Casey may be comics’ most visual writer—his radical rephrasings and visionary ideas being like the coordinates of worlds that spring full-blown into your imagination like gods being summoned or Matrixes falling away. It’s a fine event horizon to meet at, and Kirby and Casey have come close many times, most famously in the cosmic gospel of Gødland, the co-creation of Casey and artist Tom Scioli, in which both Kirby’s dynamic way of seeing and his monumental method of looking at the world (and what’s beyond it) were taken forward by two creators continuing the transcendent journey Kirby projected himself on. More recently Casey has been rewriting the fundamental formula and revisiting the genetic code of several of the storytelling forms most basic to modern comics—from the macrocosm of The Bounce’s multiple realities to the vividly felt close focus of SEX’s dystopian soap-opera of fallen former superheroes (each book a fitting successor to the way Watchmen messed with the conventions of the form while finding new stories to tell), and the visceral, mythic parables of power, citizenship and our place in the world (and, again, beyond it) in the trilogy of series that make up Catalyst Comix. Casey’s firstever direct collision with a Kirby creation is happening this year, as the hyperimaginative Captain Victory falls into his hands. Part of the Kirbyverse properties currently docked at Dynamite Entertainment, this adventure of a galactic police force will enlist an honor role of some of comics’ most individualistic voices to tell it—including the endlessly versatile pop-history style-channeler Jim Rugg, neounderground martial-art maestro Ulises
Farinas, auteur scribble-saboteur Connor Willumsen, fantasy-vérité genius Farel Dalrymple, sketchand-burn visionary Jim Mahfood, and art-grindhouse sensation Nathan Fox, as well as the surreal prophet Michel Fiffe (whose biologic tech does for the organic what Kirby did for the hard-edged), and the pulp superstar of indie sci-fi and action, Benjamin Marra. The series should hit around the time you’re reading this (July 2014), and while the new book’s universe was still being built at the time we went to press, even with no art yet materialized we thought Casey, Marra and Fiffe could paint a mental picture that will have you warp-driving to the comic shop. THE JACK KIRBY COLLECTOR spoke with them by e-mail from March 11-13, 2014. THE JACK KIRBY COLLECTOR: It may be easier to be “Kirbyesque” when you’re working on series Kirby himself didn’t do—a book like Gødland extends him whereas picking up where he left off on one of his own books could repeat him. Is it a matter of instead tapping the same things he was (certain speculative physics and primal sagas) and carrying those forward in different directions? 86
Unearthed
The Lone Survivor by Glen Gold
(below) Glen Gold’s stunning acquisition; the last remaining Kirby Galactus pencil splash.
wenty years ago, when the first issues of the Kirby Collector came out, John Morrow printed all the obscure Kirby he could find, and asked if anyone could tell him what it was and where it came from. In issue #3, he printed some great images that turned out to be part of the Marvelmania Portfolio, which was printed up when Kirby left Marvel in 1970. (This is not to be confused with the Gods Portfolio, which will figure in with this story soon enough.) I had never seen these amazing images before, and I was hooked—it was my first glimpse of undiscovered Kirby hiding more or less in plain sight, meaning it was Out There somewhere, just not in the comic books I’d read as a kid. The Marvelmania Portfolio consisted of a handful of unpublished pencil Thor and FF pages, some of them part of the rejected Thermal Man storyline—you’ve seen these around, if you pay obsessive enough attention— uninked, showing the Warriors Three in Manhattan (see next page). But there were also some other startlingly handsome splash pages: For instance, one of Odin, another of Loki and the Norn Queen. These weren’t rejected by Marvel, it turns out. In 1968, Roz told Jack to never give Marvel another Silver Surfer. Then she started pulling pages out of his finished books and saying “These IF YOU ENJOYED PREVIEW, are THIS too good for Marvel. Kirby, CLICK THE LINK TO ORDER draw somethingTHIS else.” So some ISSUE IN PRINT OR DIGITAL FORMAT! of the Marvelmania images were those he’d withheld from publication. Now, about that Gods Portfolio. If you’ve seen it, it’s four Asgardian warriors, redesigned by Kirby in 1966 or so to have all the colors and costuming of Fourth World characters. The portfolio cover was the inked version of a pencil piece found in the Marvelmania Portfolio. It’s in original art dealer Albert Moy’s gallery. It’s an unpublished Thor KIRBY COLLECTOR #63storyline where page the MARVEL UNIVERSE! Featuring MARKfrom ALEXANDER’s pivotal Lee/Kirby essay “A Universe Thor A’Borning,” MARK EVANIER interis learning Galactus’ origin. views ROY THOMAS, STAN GOLDBERG and JOE SINNOTT, a been researching Kirby’s look at key late-1970s, ’80s, and ’90sI’ve events in Kirby’s life and career, STAN LEE script pages,1968-69 unseen Kirbywork pencils at andMarvel unused recently. art from THOR, NICK FURY AGENT OF SHIELD, and FANTASMy articles in the Kirby Collector TIC FOUR, and more! have focused on the weirdness of (100-page FULL-COLOR mag) $10.95 (Digital Edition) $4.95 FF #74-77 and Thor #158-169, two http://twomorrows.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1146 storylines that seem to have had more stops and starts and detours than Beijing traffic. I think Jack turned in stuff that Stan turned down, Jack learned about the Surfer being co-opted, he tried to give Galactus an origin, Stan shut
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