Speaking of the passing of greats, I was not actively blogging last December when Richard Corben died unexpectedly, after heart surgery. Very sad loss—I was certain he had another ten years of great stuff in him. He was one of those artists whose work never really bowed to the passage of time.
Most people would only know his work because he did the iconic cover for Meat Loaf’s 1977 classic album Bat Out of Hell. And, sadly, a lot of those folks doubtless don’t even know his name.
From my own collection, here’s a few other things he did. We’ll probably be talking some more about his work soon. RIP, Corb…
I no longer mind being called a Luddite. It might’ve bothered me once. Now, it’s become a lazy catchall slur meant to target anyone who has any kind of reservation about technological ‘progress’—because, after all, progress is an unalloyed good which everyone must believe in like obedient cult members.
(The concept of progress, and/or something being progressive, is not, semantically or in actuality, a good of any kind—or a bad of any kind. It’s a neutral idea that can/should be assessed on a case-by-case basis. For instance, in the negative, pretty much every terminal disease is ‘progressive’.)
Anyhow. I was all for digital tech and online stuff back in the day. And by that, I mean 15+ years ago. Maybe you have to be immersed in something for a while to start seeing the dangers properly. Digital has an insidious tendency to slowly, creepingly replace everything it touches with a digital facsimile. Often as not, the craft or physical actuality it replaces gets killed off completely… or, in cases like, for instance, film being made on film, a few stubborn holdouts will keep the organic original alive (Tarantino, Nolan, etc).
In comics there are a number of aspects you could mention, but let’s focus on LETTERING. To be blunt, digital lettering requires no craft. It’s a form of typsetting. And to any digital letterers out there, SORRY—BUT NOT SORRY. I accept that there’s skill in it—but there’s no craft.
To underline this point, take me. Give me one of those Comicraft fonts, some balloon templates, etc, and my work is indistinguishable from anyone else using same to do their digital lettering.
But hand lettering? I’m absolutely terrible at it. I just don’t have that craft. Don’t tell me this isn’t meaningful. Of course it is.
On top of that, digital lettering kind of SUCKS. It’s so damn sterile. Like so many other digital techniques, it largely or completely removes the human aspect. Some professional digital letterers actually do make two or three variants on their fonts so they can try to fake the letter variations seen in real hand-lettering. It’s superficially effective but it’s also a bit crazy and kinda lame—if you want that imperfection, USE YOUR FUCKING HANDS!
The results of hand-lettering require genuine craft as well as a physical interaction between the artist and the art surface. It’s a tactile thing. I don’t understand why so many people are obsessed with removing that component… from just about… everything. If we’re heading for a post-physical world, you can count me out.
Let’s end with some lettering examples. I don’t have my scanner to hand, so I grabbed a couple off the Web and cropped them down a bit. Firstly, one of the all-time greats in comic book lettering is Artie Simek. He did beautiful, bold, clear work, great sound effects, imaginative titles. He’s a gold standard. This is two tiers of page two of Fantastic Four #102 (1970), lettered by Art. The drawings are by Jack Kirby & Joe Sinnott; if you didn’t know that, for shame…
Secondly, two tiers from Fantastic Four: Antithesis #2 (2020). I don’t even care who did the lettering. It speaks for itself. There’s no comparison. A similar case could be made for the colouring. The artwork itself is fine; it’s by Neal Adams & Mark Farmer… this, BTW, was the nearest Marvel Comics came to publishing a half-decent comic in 2020.
Thoughts? If you disagree, lemme know!
This is a bit of a reblog from when I first did this inking, back in 2018. (Legacy blog content; not currently online!) I was pleased with how it came out, but this time I thought I’d add the other versions for comparison. My source for Gil’s pencils was Kevin Nowlan’s blog (this post specifically). I really like Kevin’s work but I wanted to try my own spin—which I think came out somewhere between Gil himself and Ralph Reese.
Anyhow, more recently, I found a version actually inked by Gil, too! So that’s an extra interest factor—there are four versions of this piece to look at here! Lemme know what you think!! 🙂
In order: Gil Kane’s pencils; Gil Kane’s own inks; Kevin Nowlan’s inks; my inks.
Written by Roy Thomas. Drawn by Gil Kane (w/assist by Alfredo Alcala). Lettered by John Costanza. Coloured by Jim Woodring. Edited by Andrew Helfer. Published in 1989-90 by DC Comics.
Summary: A squarebound, four-issue mini-series adapting Der Ring des Nibelungen, Richard Wagner’s epic musical drama, aka the Ring Cycle, based on Norse Legend and the German epic poem Nibelungenlied.
Read more about Der Ring des Nibelungen on Wikipedia. (Saves me writing a synopsis!)
The Ring has also notably been adapted in comics form, at much greater length and more faithfully to the Wagner source, by P Craig Russell in 2000; and of course, there is the two-part 1924 silent movie by the great Fritz Lang, Die Nibelungen. The Thomas & Kane version is perhaps not so different from their work on various Conan projects—it has an old school adventure comics feel. If you like those books as much as I do, you won’t see that as a drawback.
One of the key visual differences from the older Thomas/Kane comics would be Jim Woodring’s painterly colours. Jim is, of course, a well-known underground cartoonist, but from the mid-to-late 1980s he also worked for the Ruby-Spears animation studio, at the same time as did Gil Kane. Woodring, I believe, did get to work on some of Kane’s conceptual drawings for R-S (as well as some of Jack Kirby’s), either as inker or colourist or both, and this connection was likely the reason he got this gig for DC Comics, which was his first mainstream comics credit.
(Side note: I used to own the original art for a conceptual drawing Kane did during his R-S period, which he’d inked himself and which was hand-coloured, possibly in marker. I emailed Jim to ask if the colouring was his; he promptly replied that it wasn’t. Maybe Kane did it himself. I digress.)
Jim’s colour work is pretty interesting here. It’s a little more “bright” than you’d expect from a DC book of the period—a deceptively simple yet artsy feel well-suited to fantasy, which Kane no doubt appreciated a great deal, being famously critical of mainstream conventions. Personally I think it makes Gil’s work look a little more cartoonish at times, but it does fit the subject well enough and gives it a more unique look.
Gil’s work is, overall, superb, and the best visuals in this series are amongst his very best work, period. But it is a little inconsistent. To be fair, there are major mitigating factors. While working on this series, Gil got sick with lymphoma (which would plague him on-and-off for the rest of his days), which necessitated a bit of uncredited inking assistance from Alfredo Alcala (also a Conan stalwart, not to mention another Ruby-Spears alumnus) (I’m unsure if Alfredo inked any of Gil’s R-S work—though it’s very likely—but he did ink lots of Kirby’s stuff). It’s been said a number of times that Alcala only assisted on Book Four of this series, but IMO while I see little trace of his hand in Book Three, I’m sure he is nominally present in Book Two (see below). He does a reasonable job of suppressing the full extent of his own, florid style and emulating Gil’s trademark forthright inking, but it’s not a perfect match… better than I’d have expected, though.
I love the visuals in this series. It’s worth it for the drawings alone. Luckily, Thomas does a great job with the script, too—Roy’s real niche has always been fantasy more than superheroes, I think, even though he has done some excellent hero work (the Kree-Skrull War arc in Avengers may be his pinnacle)… his best work on Conan is unsurpassed in the comics adaptations. The Ring isn’t quite up to those peaks, but it’s very good.
Of interest to Thor fans, too, would be the Norse Mythology link. Wagner naturally used the Germanic variants, so one-eyed Wotan is of course one-eyed Odin, and Donner is not meat from a kebab but none other than Thor himself—brother of Wotan’s wife, not his son! The differences are curious and fascinating, but it’s easy to spot who the various folks are. (Similar fun can be had from reading of the Roman variants on Greek mythology.)
The Ring is a pretty typical fantasy adventure, really, but it does have adult themes which are not spared in this deluxe, mature readers format—Gil gets to draw naked breasts for the first time since his work on Blackmark in the early ’70s, and the ill-fated lovers depicted in book two (“The Valkyrie”)—Siegmund & Sieglinda—are long-lost twin siblings who don’t think twice about their union when they realise their true relation.
If you haven’t seen this series, it comes highly recommended! There was a TPB collection which is now OOP; buying the individual issues may be cheaper.
While I’m here: I’ve owned a number of Gil Kane originals over the years… currently, I own this (signed!) splash page layout for Savage Sword of Conan #8, which I think is pretty neat.
“Between Hammer and Anvil”
THIS REVIEW HAS SPOILERS!
Written by Len Wein. Pencilled & Inked by Herb Trimpe. Lettered by John Costanza. Coloured by Glynis Wein. Edited by Roy Thomas. Published in 1974 by Marvel Comics.
Summary: Stanley Kramer Meets John Steinbeck via the Outer Limits.
Let’s talk about one of my favourite comics. There are a few reasons why this is so: the Hulk was the first comics character I really bonded with, for one thing, and it was by accident. My nan used to buy me random comics when I was a little kid, and one of them was a Marvel UK Hulk book—which I doubt my mom would have ever bought me—and I instantly liked him. I already loved the original King Kong (1933), as well as all the Universal Monsters—I was definitely a Monster Kid. The Hulk was somewhere between Frankenstein’s Monster and Kong… today, I also see a lot of Lennie Small (Of Mice and Men) in him. And I do mean the 1970s Hulk—there are a number of spins on him, but the ’70s one is IMO the best.
Anyhow, early in my reading of these Hulk stories, a reprint of Hulk #182, “Between Hammer and Anvil”, popped up. The story directly followed the actually pretty terrific “Wendigo” tale that introduced none other than Wolverine in #180-181. But #182 is even better, I think. One reason is the artwork. The issues I’d seen to that point, though all pencilled by Herb Trimpe (who will forever by my Hulk artist), were mostly inked by Jack Abel. He was a very competent but terribly ‘clean’ (almost kind of uptight) inker, so although I loved that artwork, seeing Trimpe ink himself in this issue was something else.
Comparatively, it was so dark, rugged, interestingly textured and much, much more organic. Although Trimpe always carried a strong Jack Kirby influence, I also now realise the inking techniques he used during this period were strongly cued by the work of Jack Davis, of EC Comics and MAD Magazine fame. It’s a wonderful and unique look. Trimpe self-inked #182-186 before Joe Staton came on board for the last issues of his long run—#182 came out in 1974; Herb had been drawing the book for six years, and still had another year ahead of him. Staton, a decent artist in his own right, didn’t mesh all that well with Trimpe. It was neither one thing or the other, to my mind, though still easy on the eye.
In any case, I think the short self-inked Hulk run Herb did in 1974-75 is amongst his very best work. I love those issues, but #182 is forever the standout.
Let’s not forget the writing by Len Wein. Len, of course, co-created Swamp Thing at DC Comics with the legendary Bernie Wrightson, before moving to Marvel and writing Hulk for a couple of years. So he had good form with big green monsters. His writing is fine… he isn’t reinventing the wheel or making the earth shake. He’s making solid, readable stories that are accessible to all readers of all ages. (A craft largely forgotten in the current material being published.)
Hulk #182 owes a clear debt to Stanley’s Kramer’s 1958 classic movie The Defiant Ones (see my write-up here). Let’s not overstate it; Kramer’s movie is a brilliant, profound piece of work, and there’s no use in trying to compare this comic to it. But the theme of two escaped convicts, one black (Hammer), one white (Anvil, who happens to have a flat, anvil-shaped head!), fleeing through the swamps with a big chain binding them together, is an obvious homage.
However, the book has its own weird take on the idea. In a truly nutty bit of plotting, the two cons encounter an alien in the woods—and when Hammer fills the confused alien with lead, the alien thanks them for saving his life (lead has high nutirional value to this type of alien or somesuch nonsense)… and as a reward, instead of removing their chain, he turns it into a super-duper cosmic-powered chain that makes them invincible. Well, really powerful, anyhow. They can slice big-ass trees in two with it. Stuff like that. Hammer and Anvil forget that they’re still chained together in their power-craze, and head back to the prison for revenge!
Yup, it’s pretty insane. But it works. It has no pretensions. It is what it is.
And there’s more to it than just that. The real heart of the story is Crackajack Jackson, the old guy Hulk stumbles upon deep in the woods. Jackson is playing the harmonica. When he notices the Hulk, about to depart, he calls out to him and offers him a plate of beans. Later on, he teaches Hulk how to write his own name on the ground using a twig. It’s simple but very charming. The misunderstood, rejected giant and the old man of colour who no doubt has experienced a lot of misunderstanding & rejection of his own… the Hulk has never been more Lennie Small-like than here, the story never more akin to a passage from the Steinbeck story.
I’ve read quibbles about Jackson’s heavily-accented speech, but it seems actually kind of mean to criticise something like that, when the portrayal of Jackson is such a sweet, positive, life-affirming one. His clothes are a bit corny, but his accent is OK. In my opinion. Feel free to disagree.
Of course, it has to end in tragedy. Jackson is heading for the local prison to visit his estranged son, and the Hulk accompanies him; upon arriving, they discover Hammer & Anvil on a murderous rampage… and, of course, Hammer is Crackajack’s son. The latter reaches out to his son and accidentally touches the juiced-up chain, which instantly kills him.
A furious, grief-stricken Hulk tears into the two bad guys, and after an extended fight, rips the chain in two, causing them to collapse into madness. He then takes his friend’s body away, finds a suitable spot to bury him, and etches his name (with his bare fingers) into a makeshift tombstone.
The ending is just about perfect—he uses the new skill his friend taught him to create a lasting monument. I have to say, when I first saw this I was seven years old and it brought tears to my eyes. It was the first time a comic did that (and let’s be honest: it doesn’t happen often). Bear in mind, in the UK the story was split into two. So the first part shows Hulk making a new friend—then the following week, the friend abruptly dies. I thought Crackajack was just about the nicest old guy I’d ever seen, so feeling Hulk’s pain was easy.
I think that is the main reason why it remains one of my fave comics. It has heart & soul; the Hulk is a true protagonist and a real character in his own right—unlike the earlier years, in the ’60s, where he was changing continuously, and the later stuff, ditto, plus all the psycho-babble Peter David introduced, which I think pretty much demolished the character permanently… the ’70s had a lot of good times, and for me, this issue is amongst the peaks.
Sadly, the creative team for this book are longer with us. Len Wein died in September 2017, aged 69, after many years of poor health, only several months after his Swamp Thing collaborator Wrightson died. Herb Trimpe died in April 2015, aged 75, of a heart attack. He attended a comics event just before he passed; his death was very sudden.
Herb and I corresponded a little over the years (I wish it had been more), but we never actually met. My fave memory is a little over ten years ago, when I told him I wanted to commission him to draw me a picture of Orson Welles when I had some spare cash (I had commissioned Gene Colan to do one in 2006; Orson is one of my heroes, of course!).
Herb asked for my address and about ten days later, I received the below, gratis. What a lovely guy. Much missed.
NOTE: Marvel released a “facsimile edition” of this book in 2020, solely due to it featuring Wolverine’s third (very brief) appearance on page 1. Still available cheaply at the time of writing and highly recommended.
I was thinking about what I’d do if I had a time machine, and I got onto comics. Obviously, comics are a complete car crash at this point. But what event(s) that could be stopped might prevent this ever happening?
My answer: stop Alan Moore and Frank Miller doing Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns. Now, hear me out! I have affection for both of these books. I do think both are overrated—especially Watchmen, as beyond its literary pretensions and symbolisms and “adult” drama (such as two of the heroes getting aroused by their kinky costumes and making out; yawn, very daring even in 1986, I don’t think)… beyond those things… it has kind of a crummy B-movie plot at its core.
I do like the books. They have a lot of good things in them.
But they also helped to destroy comics. It’s not possible, apparently, to do anything deemed “significant” without it leaving a permanent mark on the field. And this particular mark was entirely destructive.
Also: Post-Modernism is trash. Just saying.
So, with my time machine I’m stopping those books. I’ll just tell Alan and Frank what happens later. Perhaps it’ll make them think twice. Failing that, mebbe I’ll put cyanide in Alan’s bong and Frank’s JD bottle…