A HINT OF A GLINT THROUGH THE WINDOW...

Images copyright respective owners

I love this time of year.  Autumn has its own scents and hues, and, as it starts to give way to Winter, assumes a magical, hybrid quality of the two seasons peculiar unto itself.  When any last faint remnants of lingering Summer have finally disappeared and been replaced with the preliminary signs of Jack Frost's rapidly oncoming kingdom, I can't help but think back to what an enchanted time it seemed to be when I was a kid.

Arising on dark mornings, streetlights a-twinkle; the first spidery glints of frost on the windows and pavements outside; warm milk on cornflakes to fortify me for my trek to school; sitting before the electric fire, hypnotized by shadows of dancing, flickering simulated flames; the fresh, biting chill of the air - all those memories - or any combination of them - embody that particular period of my personal history.  Even today, the alluring nature of the season is as much to do with the warm glow of memory as enjoying it for its own sake.

The walk to school, the chatter of friends, the sheer exuberance of childhood - how it all comes rushing back to me in torrents.  A large part of those memories is shaped by whatever comics I was buying at the time: TV CENTURY 21, WHAM!, SMASH!, FANTASTIC, WHIZZER & CHIPS, The MIGHTY WORLD Of MARVEL, SPIDER-MAN COMICS WEEKLY and many more - all those publications seem to blend into one big memory (regardless of whether they were actually available or I was buying them concurrently or not), and span a goodly number of years from primary to secondary school.  (I often smuggled a newly purchased comic into the classroom in my schoolbag and then had to suffer an agony of waiting 'til I could peruse it during the interval.)

And just think what we had to look forward to at that time of the year; Hallowe'en, Guy Fawkes' Night, Christmas - and I had the added bonus of having my birthday fall at around the same time.  No wonder I tend to look back on those events with such fondness - I was just the right age to appreciate them in all their spectacular, multi-coloured, atmospheric glory.  I'm sure it's the same for most people.   

So, in an unseemly fit of sentimentality and nostalgia, I've dug through my files and unearthed some comic covers which would've been on sale towards the end of the year back in the 1960s & 1970s, in an attempt to crystalize not only my happy recollections of days gone by, but - if you're around the same age as myself - perhaps also your own.  Hope you enjoy them.

See?  You can go home again - even if it's only for a short visit.   

SPOT The DIFFERENCE...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

Above is the cover from the second THOR KING-SIZE SPECIAL from 1966, below is a reprint from 1994 - which still carries the original indicia, but with the words 'second printing' appended to it.  Sharp-eyed readers will notice that ol' Goldilocks' right arm is different on the two versions, the first having been amended before printing, the second presumably featuring the cover as KING KIRBY originally drew it.  (Though there's a hint of JOHN ROMITA about it.)

The reason for this is pretty obvious: Marvel's file copies of artwork were usually photocopied before any alterations were made, hence many reprints down through the years sported pages as they'd originally been drawn, not published.  Thankfully, in recent years, Marvel has addressed this issue and striven to ensure that reprints are as close to archival quality as possible.

Thought you might enjoy seeing Kirby's original version.

But hold!  There's even more to the story!  Take a good look at this third version of the cover, below.

While thumbing through my hardbacked volume of THOR MASTERWORKS Vol 5 recently, I espied this amazing oversight.  Either the patch covering Thor's original arm has fallen off (which would mean that Marvel had access to the original art), or an art restorer re-created the new arm on a file photostat, but then simply forgot to delete the original Kirby limb it was intended to replace.  Who knows the truth behind this Marvel mystery?  Answers in the comments section if it happens to be you.

NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL FUNNY...

Copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

Well, it made ME laugh.

(From The Beano & The Dandy Celebrate Dennis

The Menace - available now from all good bookshops.)

"AND THERE WERE GIANTS UPON THE EARTH IN THOSE DAYS..."

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

It was originally intended to be a single-series revolving-door showcase mag for a roster of MARVEL's mightiest heroes, but no sooner had the 1st ish hit the stands than those plans underwent revision.  GIANT-SIZE SUPER-STARS #1 starred The FANTASTIC FOUR, with the second issue scheduled to feature none other than your friendly neighbourhood SPIDER-MAN.  (PETER PARKER's amazing alter-ego would doubtless be first choice to launch any new alternating series nowadays, but, back then, the Fab Four were still accorded premier position in the Mighty Marvel firmament of Super-Stars.)

However, it soon became apparent to the 'powers-that-be' that, rather than restrict the idea to one title, it would be potentially more profitable to give each chosen group or hero their own giant-size mag.  And so, Spidey was awarded his own 68 page comicbook series and what would've been the 2nd issue of Super-Stars evolved into GIANT-SIZE FANTASTIC FOUR #2, followed by another four successive issues over the course of the next fourteen months or so.

There were quite a number of different titles in the various Giant-Size quarterly series on sale back in '74-'75.  GIANT-SIZE SPIDER-MAN, GIANT-SIZE AVENGERS, GIANT-SIZE CONAN, GIANT-SIZE CAPTAIN MARVEL, GIANT-SIZE DOCTOR STRANGE, GIANT-SIZE DRACULA, GIANT-SIZE DEFENDERS and a host of others got the same treatment, proving the when Marvel has an idea, they exploit it to the full.  However, it's only the good ol' FF that we're concerned with today.

I didn't even know of the existence of these mags at the time they first came out - it wasn't until 1979 or '80 that I obtained the 1st issue when I ordered it unseen from a back issue dealer in Bournemouth.  And it was a battered copy containing only the main story, the back-up features having been 'surgically' removed from the comic.  It must have been sometime around the mid-'90s perhaps, before I was able to obtain the full six issue set and finally see the complete contents of issue #1.  (Only to find that the missing pages were pin-ups reprinted from FF ANNUAL #1, which had been in my collection for some time.)

The main stories in the first four issues were all brand-new material, with reprints from the early days of the FF as back-up content.  (Annual #1, and regular issues #13, 21 & 28.)  The last two in the series reprinted FF Annuals #5 & 6 as their main features, with #5 also including another tale from the quartet's early days.  (Issue #15, and not the MOLECULE MAN story from #20 as erroneously stated on the cover-blurb.)

So, let's return to an earlier, more innocent time; the seemingly sun-soaked, carefree days of the sizzling '70s, and enjoy all six scintillating covers in their full, unadulterated, cataclysmic glory.

The PERRY RHODAN FILES - PART TWO...

Copyright relevant owner

Here's the second part of The PERRY RHODAN FILES, featuring more covers from his 1967 comic and some photographic stills from the movie based on the characters and concepts.  Try as I might, I can't really generate any enthusiasm for the comic - it just seems well below par.  And the movie doesn't look up to much either, to be honest.  If anyone wants to weigh in with their opinions on why ol' Perry was the greatest thing since sliced bread, then feel absolutely free.

Assuming that anyone is interested, be sure to tune in again for Part Three whenever I can't think of anything else to write about.  The blonde sure looks okay though, doesn't she?

CALLING ALL DENNIS FANS...

Copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

As the proud possessor of every DENNIS The MENACE book ever printed, I greeted the news that there's to be no regular Dennis book this year with mixed emotions.  On the one hand I'm disappointed that his annual escapades have ended; on the other I'm somewhat relieved to be able to write 'finis' to a collection which stretches back to the mid-'50s and is now complete.

However, do not despair, fellow Dennis-lovers.  D.C. THOMSON have released this beautifully bound hardback volume showing Dennis at his very best, with comic capers from his earliest appearances in The BEANO, right up to his modern-day madcap meanderings.  (Also includes other features and strips.)  What's more, as well as a DVD containing two of Dennis's TV cartoons, the book also includes a separate, good-quality complete reproduction of his first Beano appearance back in 1951.

Dennis may be 60 years old, but he's still the world's wildest boy at heart. Don't miss this superb collectors' item - available now from all good bookshops.  Priced at £12.99, it can be ordered direct from DCT for £9.99.  Also, some shops are bound to include it in a 'buy one, get one half-price' deal in conjunction with other books, so be sure to shop around. 

ISBN # 9781-1-84535-462-2  

'DUNCANRIG DOUGIE' - A TRIBUTE...

So far on this blog, I've related a couple of anecdotes about two of my old art teachers, Mr. BOB BELL and Mr. SLOSS, with a passing reference to Mr. McLEAN along the way.

Now it's time to draw back the curtain and introduce yet another teacher from the dim and distant days of my youth; so let's have a big hand for Mr. DOUGIE SMITH, one of the more popular teachers at DUNCANRIG SENIOR SECONDARY.  Not that any pupil ever dared call him Dougie to his face as far as I know, but that was how they affectionately referred to him throughout the school.

Mr. Smith's classroom under fire-escape stairway

You know that sense of amazement one feels when, years after having left school, you see a teacher who doesn't seem to have aged in the slightest since you were a kid?  When you're a youngster, anyone over 21 seems older than they actually are, which probably accounts for my inability to supply an accurate assessment of what age Mr. Smith would've been back in the early '70s.  He could have been anything from 35-45, but it'd be pointless trying to narrow it down any further because I simply don't have a clue.  Not that it's important I suppose, but I like to give my readers (both of them) a fully rounded picture of the subject under discussion.



Mr. Smith's old Maths class in 2007.  By the looks of things, at some point the room
had been opened up at the front and extended out into part of the hallway...



Anyway, Mr. Smith was blond-haired and what I assume would be regarded by the fairer sex as a fairly handsome Maths teacher who, like many another teacher at that time, still wore the classic bat-like gown as immortalised by Mr. CREEP in the WINKER WATSON strip in The DANDY.  I seem to recall him also wearing the mortarboard hat on occasion, but quite possibly I'm imagining it.  (Although as he had the gown he would most likely have had the hat too, one would presume.)  The fact that teachers still wore such traditional educational apparel most likely accounts for why I never found strips like BILLY BUNTER or the aforementioned Winker to appear outdated - it was yet an everyday sight that didn't appear unusual in the slightest.



...and how it would have looked in my day



As the saying goes, Mr. Smith was a 'good egg'.  I remember him telling me one day, "Gordon, some of the other teachers say that they regard you as a difficult pupil, but I find that as long as I don't try and make you do anything you don't want to, then you're no trouble at all."

Which is not to suggest that I was a troublemaker of any sort, but I was a daydreamer.  If I wasn't doodling on the covers or margins of my school jotters then I was staring out a window off into space, lost in my own little world.  Mr. Smith was wise enough to realize that it was better to leave me there, rather than try and compel me to apply myself to a subject I had no interest in, or, indeed, aptitude for.  Unlike another teacher (whose name escapes me, otherwise I would readily identify the guilty party), who once gave me 'six of the best' for my inability to master the intricacies of an Algebra equation.

View from one of the windows

But now to the point of this tale.  ("At last!" cry those who haven't yet abandoned the arduous trek.)  Mr. Smith, if I remember the details correctly after almost 40 years, was in charge of producing a Maths booklet for use in schools throughout what was then known as The COUNTY COUNCIL Of LANARKSHIRE.  He asked if I'd provide some cartoon illustrations for said project, and I didn't need to be asked twice.  It took a few days for him to determine precisely where my artwork would be required, but once armed with the necessary information I got to work.

A week or two later and much to my surprise, he presented me with an envelope containing a whopping £5 (which was a lot of money to a 14-15 year old at the start of the '70s) as payment for my contribution.  "It comes out of the budget" he said, by way of explanation - though I wouldn't be at all surprised if it came out of his own pocket.

The picture (from an initial 'rough') inspired by one below



I was especially proud of one picture in particular, and had it specifically in mind when I produced my KEVIN & His TALKING SOCKS strip for possible inclusion in a comic called OINK!  A period of a dozen or so years lay between the execution of these two drawings, which, as I relate this, strikes me as requiring further, completely unnecessary, long-winded exposition. (Even if that last sentence is a total contradiction in terms.)

Back in 1985/'86, my schooldays seemed like an inordinately long time past.  It was practically half my life away after all, which probably accounts for that particular period appearing almost prehistoric from my mid-'80s perspective.  Nowadays, however, anything that happened 10 or 12 years back seems to have occurred no more than two or three years ago at the very most.  It's scary to consider that the quarter of a century gap between 1986 and today doesn't feel anywhere near as long as the far shorter (almost by half) period between 1973 and 1986.  Yup, it really is true; time seems to go by faster the older one gets.

Not having a photo of Mr. Smith, one of comic artist
supreme George Tuska will have to suffice.  To my
mind, they were extremely similar in appearance

Anyway, returning to the point of this personal reminiscence before even I lose track, a belated thank you is long overdue to Mr. Smith for giving me what could be described as my very first paid 'professional' assignment - and for simply being such a thoroughly decent bloke.  He's probably been retired for some years now, but it would be nice to think that he might in some way hear of this 'tribute' to him and be touched by it.  Knowing you made a difference to someone's life can sometimes make a difference to your own.

Here's to you, Dougie.  Hope you're hale and hearty.

******

And below, in all their unretouched glory, are the four illustrations drawn with a black ink BIC biro in a blank jotter on a lazy afternoon in Mr. Smith's Maths class all those years ago.  Nothing brilliant by any means, but while I indulged myself, my classmates had to get on with doing their sums.  I wonder if I'm the only pupil ever to get paid for doing something else during school hours?

(Actually, now that I think about it, I remember finishing the fourth one at home, so the Maths period must have been the last one of the afternoon.)

******

FOOTNOTE: Since first posting this, I've been beset by a nagging suspicion that I may have misremembered the amount of remuneration involved.  Perhaps it was only £2 and not £5 in that envelope.  However, if so - two quid was still a lot of money for a young teenager back then. Especially as I mostly earned it during school hours when I should've been doing something else.  

BLAZIN' A TRAIL - PART ONE...

Images copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co, Ltd

Elsewhere on this blog I related the true tale of how, about a year or so ago, a friend of mine turned up at my front door one evening with a bag of comics that I'd given him 30-odd years before.  "I thought you might like these back!" he said.  Among other gems (some of which I previously told you about), the bag of goodies contained - wait for it - the first ten issues of D.C. THOMSON's STARBLAZER pocket-sized science-fiction comic-mag.

Starblazer survived for 281 issues before succumbing to the 'Death Star' of cancellation due to declining sales.  Launched in April 1979, it finally crash-landed in January 1991, but is fondly remembered by those readers who supported the title during its respectable almost twelve-year orbit.  (Hey, good at these space allusions, ain't I?!)

So, I thought you might like to see the front and back covers of those selfsame ten issues, to savour at your leisure and pleasure.  I'll show them in two instalments, so here's the first five to start things off.  Enjoy - and be sure and come back for Part Two.

 

CALLING A SPADE A BLOODY SHOVEL DEPT...

Images copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

Once, in a world far away and now forgotten, there was an objective standard by which things were measured.  Alas, however, that was very long ago.  Today we live in an age of dumbing down.  Exams made easier so that more students pass; participants in a primary school race all being awarded prizes so that no-one is disappointed or feels humiliated; people being given jobs on the basis of so-called positive discrimination rather than ability or merit.

There are no longer winners or losers, no longer good or bad, right or wrong, black or white - or at least that's the way it often seems in this bright new world of the 21st century.  Excellence may still be rewarded, but all too often, so too is mediocrity.

   

In the world of political correctness in which we live today, everything is valued as being of equal worth.  That’s why a pile of bricks or half a sheep in a glass case are now accorded the same artistic legitimacy as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, or Rembrandt and Constable paintings.  What utter tosh.  To claim that the measure of a thing’s worth is defined by whether people like it is ridiculous.  Appreciation is no indication of quality or craftsmanship.  Other criteria must also be brought to bear.

I can quite understand the natural reservations of those in any working 'community’ to make critical comment (at least publicly) on the merits of one another’s work; there is a professional courtesy at play which prevents them from doing so.  In some ways that’s a good thing, but let’s be honest – it also allows those of lesser or no ability to infiltrate the ranks, simply because it’s not regarded as ‘good form’ to point out the failings or inadequacies of others, or to unmask the impostors.

One of the reasons why the standard of children's literacy, as an example, is so appalling today is that everything created for them is aimed at their level.  That’s why many of them never progress to a higher one – they aren’t enticed or encouraged or motivated to.  If you give them nothing but inferior quality, that’s what they learn to appreciate.  But what if children like it?  Children have the capacity to like whatever is put in front of them, but that's no excuse for giving them substandard fare.

Without wishing to offend anyone, there are certain strips in the current incarnation of The Dandy which simply don’t measure up to an objective standard.  And don't be misled by those who claim there isn't one.  It's that kind of wooly thinking that has resulted in unmade beds on display in art galleries.  Also, there are some art styles which do not readily lend themselves to the medium of sequential storytelling in general, or children’s comics in particular.

Contrariwise, Ken H. Harrison, for example, has a fantastically fluid art style and brilliantly clear sense of storytelling that fulfils the highest standard expected of a comic strip.  He is the only artist to draw The Broons and Oor Wullie who has even come near - or is on - the same level as Dudley D. Watkins, talent-wise. There are some who don’t even come close, judging by the standard of the work they submit.  Could they do better?  Perhaps, but what they are doing just doesn’t cut it.

And before I'm subjected to the same old tired, predictable and erroneous accusations of envy, bitterness, etc., etc., I’m merely speaking as a comics consumer, not a former professional comics contributor.  I am not comparing those whose work I dislike against any level of artistic ability I perceive, pretend, imagine, wish, or delude myself I may have, but rather the recognized 'greats' of yesteryear and today. Artists of the calibre of Bave, Baxendale, Brown, Grigg, Harrison, Law, Main, Martin, Mevin, Millington, Nadal, Nixon, Parkinson, Petrie, Parlett, Paterson, Reid, Ritchie, Sutherland, Titcombe, Watkins, and a whole host of others far too numerous to mention.

   

Today we live in an age where the utmost quality is no longer the main consideration - or even a requirement.  In short, anything goes.  Unfortunately, one of the first things to go was a regard for standards.  We can only hope that it's due to make its return sometime soon.