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The year was 1979. A whole 33 years ago and seeming like only a few months back - and, paradoxically, 100 years ago at one and the same time. I was working in my local central library back then and, one day, several of us were sent out in pairs to chap the doors of people in possession of long-overdue books and to relieve them of their ill-gotten booty.
I was paired up with a fellow worker by the name of Bob Billens, who was also a comicbook geek like myself. We chapped the requisite number of doors (some in my neighbourhood), then popped into my house so he could marvel at my collection. (No, that's not a euphemism - behave yourselves.) Then, by virtue of the fact that he had a car, we sped along to his house (or to be exact, his wife's parents' house, where they were staying at the time) and, while sipping tea in the back garden, I looked through some of his not quite so vast array of four-colour treasures.
He even gave me a handful of his surplus comics, one of them being CONAN The BARBARIAN #6. Bob tended not to keep his comics in quite so pristine a condition as I aspired to with mine, so a little while later (and not being a particular Conan fan), I cut out the splash page and put it on my wall amongst all the other posters, covers, pages, pin-ups and panels which adorned it. There was just something about that jewel-bedecked night sky which fascinated me.
That page was on my wall for close to four years until we moved house, where it was again awarded its own space on the wall of my new bedroom. Then, as regular readers may remember me recounting in a previous post, just over four years later we moved back to our old house, whereupon it resumed the space it had previously occupied and where it still resides to this very day. (Update: A bright, new, colourful duplicate has now replaced it as it was showing its age.)
Interestingly, when I was in my new abode, I would sometimes look at the page and recall my old house and room and feel quite nostalgic about them. When I eventually returned to that room four and a bit years later, it was as if I had never moved to begin with and, consequently, I never spared a thought for the place we had just vacated.
Now, however, 25 years after returning, I look at that Conan page on occasion and recall that other home with fond affection. Not only that, but I remember that sunny afternoon when me and Bob sat out in his in-laws' garden and spent our dinner hour poring over a selection of various MARVEL and DC comics (mainly DC, it has to be said) before returning to the dismal confines of the library and our dreary and unimaginative, po-faced colleagues.
So, one glance recalls two different houses and rooms, a former workplace, various ex-colleagues, a one-time friend, and a sunny afternoon in a vanished era from long ago. Funny how one picture can encompass so many memories, don't you think? If you have a particular comicbook page or panel that conjures up a fondly-remembered time from your youth, feel free to share it in the comments section.
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(If you're interested in what happened to Bob Billens, click here.)
2 comments:
As soon as you asked us to share, Kid, I thought of Neal Adams' splash for Batman 234 'Half An Evil'. Like your choice of Smith's Conan, it's an image I could stare at for hours. Adams' splash - despite its non-urban setting - tells you all you need to know about Batman (What a cape!) and his world of shadows and mystery, in the same way that Smith shows us the thief Conan and the world he lives in.
It probably also helped that I first saw Adams' Batman when I was ten years old, after having grown up with and not really known any other Batman than the one that had been presented in the TV show. Just seeing him perched up there in that tree was like the difference between night and day in comparison. I hesitate to admit that it used to inspire me to go up the woods and climb some trees, in order to copy the pose as much as possible; my only defence is the fact that, as mentioned, I was only ten years old at the time; I just hope nobody saw me.
One of the great things of childhood is the little worlds we inhabit from time to time. One minute we're cowboys, the next we're soldiers or superheroes, or whatever. Ten years old, you're allowed to pose in the trees, pretending to be Batman.
As for the Conan image, there's just something about standing looking down on the city at night, with the stars twinkling overhead - it's extremely evocative. It reminds me of when myself and a pal used to crawl over the rooftops of an old village pub (we were 14) and observe people coming and going, quite unaware of us above them. We felt like gods, watching mortals from the heights as they went about their business. Or, at least, Napoleon and Ilya, spying on T.H.R.U.S.H. Ah, to be a kid again.
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