(Walt Disney’s) Mickey Mouse: The Greatest Adventures


By Floyd Gottfredson, with Walt Disney, Bill Walsh, Merrill de Maris, Bill Wright, Win Smith, Jack King, Roy Nelson, Hardie Gramatky, Ted Thwaites, Daan Jippes, David Gerstein & various (Fantagraphics Books)
ISBN: 978-1-68396-122-2 (HB) eISBN: 978-1-68396-225-0

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

Created by Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks, Mickey Mouse was first seen – if not heard – in the silent cartoon Plane Crazy. The animated short fared poorly in a May 1928 test screening and was promptly shelved. That’s why most people who care cite Steamboat Willie – the fourth completed Mickey feature – as the debut of the mascot mouse and his co-star and paramour Minnie Mouse as it was the first to be nationally distributed, as well as the first animated feature with synchronised sound.

The film’s astounding success led to the subsequent rapid release of its fully completed predecessors Plane Crazy, The Gallopin’ Gaucho and The Barn Dance, once they too had been given new-fangled soundtracks. From those timid beginnings grew an immense fantasy empire, but film was not the only way Disney conquered hearts and minds. With Mickey a certified solid gold sensation, the mighty mouse was considered a hot property and soon invaded America’s most powerful and pervasive entertainment medium: comic strips…

Floyd Gottfredson was a cartooning pathfinder who started out as just another warm body in the Disney Studio animation factory who slipped sideways into graphic narrative and evolved into a pictorial narrative ground-breaker as influential as George Herriman, Winsor McCay or Elzie Segar. Gottfredson’s Mickey Mouse entertained millions of eagerly enthralled readers across the entire planet and shaped the very way comics worked. He took a wildly anarchic animated rodent from slapstick beginnings, via some of the earliest adventure continuities in comics history, and transforming a feisty everyman underdog – yes, okay, mouse – into a crimebuster, detective, explorer, lover/romantic lead, aviator or cowboy, and the quintessential two-fisted hero whenever necessity demanded.

In later years, as tastes and syndicate policy shifted, Gottfredson steered that self-same wandering warrior into a more sedate, gently suburbanised lifestyle via crafty sitcom gags suited to a newly middle-class America: a fifty-year career generating some of the most engrossing continuities the comics industry has ever enjoyed.

Arthur Floyd Gottfredson was born today in 1905 in Kaysville, Utah; one of eight siblings in a Mormon family of Danish extraction. Injured in a youthful hunting accident, Floyd whiled away a long recuperation drawing and studying cartoon correspondence courses. By the 1920s he had turned professional, selling cartoons and commercial art to local trade magazines and Big City newspaper the Salt Lake City Telegram. In 1928 he and his (apparently nameless) wife moved to California where, after a shaky start, he found work in April 1929: an in-betweener at the burgeoning Walt Disney Studios. Just as the Great Depression hit, Floyd was personally asked by Disney to take over the newborn yet ailing Mickey Mouse newspaper strip. Gottfredson would plot, draw and frequently script the strip for the next five decades: an incredible accomplishment by of one of comics’ most gifted exponents.

Veteran animator Ub Iwerks had initiated the print feature with Disney himself contributing, before artist Win Smith was brought in. The nascent strip was plagued with problems and young Gottfredson was only supposed to pitch in until a regular creator could be found.

Floyd’s first effort saw print on May 5th 1930 (his 25th birthday) and he just kept going in an uninterrupted run over the next half century. On January 17th 1932, Gottfredson created the first colour Sunday page, which he also handled until his retirement.

In the beginning he did everything, but in 1934 Gottfredson relinquished scripting, preferring plotting and illustrating adventures to playing about with dialogue. His eventual collaborating wordsmiths included Ted Osborne, Merrill De Maris, Dick Shaw, Bill Walsh, Roy Williams and Del Connell. At the start and in the manner of a filmic studio system, Floyd briefly used inkers such as Ted Thwaites, Earl Duvall and Al Taliaferro, but by 1943 had taken on full art chores.

This tremendous archival hardback compendium (185 x 282 mm and also available digitally) gathers and remasters in full colour a sublime selection of those daily delights, stuffed with thrills, spills and chills, whacky races, bizarre situations, fantastic fights and a glorious superabundance of rapid fire sight-gags peppered with verbal by-play: an unmissable journey of fabulous cartoon fun.

And I don’t need to remind you that this stuff can be deemed “dated or discriminatory content” created in times when casual violence, smoking, drinking and ethnic stereotyping were everyday occurrences, so please read this with that in mind or not at all…

The manner in which Mickey became a syndicated star is covered by editor/savant, devoted fan David Gerstein in bookend articles at front and back of this timely tome, namely Floyd Gottfredson: Walt Disney’s Mouse Man and Mickey Mouse: The Hero. In between the comic capers commence with legendary yarn ‘Mickey Mouse in Death Valley’ which ran from April 1st – September 22nd 1930. Initially the strip was treated like an animated feature, with diverse hands working under a “director”. Each day was viewed as a full gag with set-up, delivery and a punchline, usually all in service to an umbrella story or theme. Such was the format Gottfredson inherited from Walt Disney for his first full yarn.

The saga was further complicated by an urgent “request” from controlling syndicate King Features that the strip be immediately made more adventure-oriented to compete with the latest trend in comics – action-packed continuities…

Also roped in to provide additional art and inking to the raucous, rambunctious rambling saga were Win Smith, Jack King, Roy Nelson & Hardie Gramatky. The resulting saga – coloured here by Scott Rockwell & Susan Daigle-Leach – involved a picaresque and frequently deadly journey way out west to save Minnie’s inheritance (a lost mine) from conniving lawyer Sylvester Shyster and his vile and violent crony Pegleg Pete, whom Mickey and his aggrieved companion chased across America by every conveyance imaginable. In this pursuit they were aided by masked mystery man The Fox, while facing every possible peril as immortalised by silent movie westerns, melodramas and comedies…

With cameos throughout from Horace Horsecollar, Clarabelle Cow, goat-horned Mr. Butt and a prototype Goofy who used to answer – if he felt like it – to Dippy Dog, we pause to share specially commissioned Illustrations by Gottfredson (a promotional pic and photos of tough guy pal Butch) before moving on to ‘The Picnic’ (crafted by Gottfredson, Earl Duvall & Travis Seitler (coloured by Rick Keane). It originally ran from January 5th to 10th 1931): a hopefully bucolic moment plagued by natural catastrophe, after which bold deeds are a requisite for exploring the ‘Island in the Sky’ (November 30th 1936 – April 3rd 1937, by Gottfredson, Ted Thwaites, Michel Nadorp, Erik Rosengarten, & Disney Italia).

Having secured a cash reward for capturing a band of smugglers, Mickey& Goofy buy an airplane and become working aviators: a plot device affording plenty of daily gags before one flight brings them into aerial contact with the flying automobile of a mystery scientist. After much detecting and pursuit, they find the floating fortress of reclusive super-genius Doctor Einmug, learning that he’s also being approached – if not outright menaced – by vile Pegleg Pete. The dyed-in-the-wool thug is acting as agent of a foreign power, seeking the astonishing secret and unlimited power of “aligned atoms” fuelling Einmug’s aerial miracles: trying everything from bribery to coercion to feigned reformation. When those fail, good old reliable theft and violence follow, but naturally, none of that means anything to the indomitable Mouse…

Appended by Gottfredson’s painting Mickey Mouse on Sky Island and a mini-feature on personalised birthday and anniversary commissions, the cloud-busting crime-caper is followed by a baffling mystery as ‘The Gleam’ (January 19th – May 2nd 1942, by Gottfredson, Merrill de Maris, Bill Wright, Daan Jippes, Seitler, Gerstein & Daigle-Leach) sees Mickey, Minnie & Goofy plagued by a diabolical hypnotist who plunders Mouseton’s High Society elite at will. The bandit even embroils Minnie’s unwelcome visiting parents in his crimes before our heroes finally bring him to justice. It’s followed by the cover of 1949’s Big Little Book #1464: a modified version of this tale behind a cover by an artist unknown.

Gottfredson, Bill Walsh, Wright, Gerstein & Disney Italia then detail a string of interlinked gags comprising a burst of DIY invention resulting in ‘Mickey Mouse and Goofy’s Rocket’ (September 9th – 21st 1946), before Gottfredson, Walsh, Pierre Nicolas, Gerstein & Digikore Studios resort to full on sci fi as The Atombrella and the Rhyming Man’ (April 30th – October 9th 1948) finds Eega Beeva (an occasional visitor from 2447 AD) popping back for fun and a spot of inventing. Most of his whacky gadgets are generally harmless, but when he tinkers up a handheld defence against physical attack which repels everything from pie to nuclear weapons, word gets around fast and some very shifty characters invite themselves in. When juvenile genius Dr. Koppenhooper, an unlovely femme fatale and a poetic superspy get involved, things go from bad to calamitous…

The friendly future-man appeared in many commercial commissions. After a brace of monochrome samples reprinted here courtesy of Gottfredson, the manic menu of Mouse Masterpieces concludes with ‘Mickey’s Dangerous Double’ (March 2nd – June 20th 1953 by Gottfredson, Walsh, Jippes, Paul Baresh, Gerstein & Disney Italia) as a devious “evil twin” trashes our hero’s reputation and destroys all his friendships before scapegoating him for a string of crimes in a gleeful but paranoia-inducing tale.

Of course, in the end the ingenuity of the original and genuine article wins through but only after a truly spectacular battle…

Gottfredson’s influence on not just the Disney canon but sequential graphic narrative itself is inestimable: he was among the first to produce long continuities and straight adventures; he pioneered team-ups and invented some of the first super-villains in the business.

Disney killed their continuities in 1955, dictating that henceforth strips would only contain one-off gags. Gottfredson adapted seamlessly, working on until retirement in 1975. His last daily appeared on November 15th and the final Sunday on September 19th 1976.

Like all Disney creators Gottfredson worked in utter anonymity, but in the 1960s his identity was revealed and the voluble appreciation of his previously unsuspected horde of devotees led to interviews, overviews and public appearances, with effect that subsequent reprinting in books, comics and albums carried a credit for the quiet, reserved master. Floyd Gottfredson died in July 1986. Thankfully we have this wealth of his works to enjoy and inspire us and hopefully a whole new generation of inveterate tale-tellers…
Mickey Mouse: The Greatest Adventures © 2018 Disney Enterprises, Inc. All contents © 2018 Disney Enterprises, Inc. unless otherwise noted. “Floyd Gottfredson: Walt Disney’s Mouse Man” and “Mickey Mouse: The Hero” texts © 2018 David Gerstein. All rights reserved.

Oh what a date this is!

In 1905 Floyd Gottfredson was born and 25 years later his first Mickey Mouse daily appeared on his birthday.

In 1913 animator/ author Frank Tashlin (Looney Tunes, Merrie Melodies) was born, with Golden Age workhorse Dan Zolnerowich (Dollman, Blackhawk, Super American, Suicide Smith, Kaanga, Kayo Kirby, The Hawk, Captain Terry Thunder, Captain Wings) arriving in 1915; Belgian superstar Michel Régnier AKA Greg (Luc Orient, Bruno Brazil, Bernard Prince, Zig et Puce, Achille Talon) in 1931 and Cartoonist Supreme Stan Goldberg in 1932.

The wonderful compelling David Lloyd (V for Vendetta, Night Raven, Wasteland, Aces Weekly, Kickback) joined us in 1950 – as did Juan Ortiz – with true Brits Peter Hogan (Robo-Hunter, Resident Alien) in 1954 and Mike Collins (Doctor Who, Judge Dredd, X-Men, Superman) in 1961, whilst cover star Adam Hughes (Maze Agency, Ghost, Legion of Super-Heroes) only arrived in 1967, the same year and date that Robert Crumb’s Mr. Natural debuted…

In 1975 Sad Sack creator George Baker died.

The James Bond Omnibus volume 001


By Ian Fleming; adapted by Anthony Hern, Peter O’Donnell, Henry Gammidge & John McLusky (Titan Books)
ISBN: 987-1-84856-364-3 (TPB)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

It’s sad to admit but there are very few British newspaper strips to challenge the influence and impact of classic daily and Sunday “funnies” from America, especially in the febrile but slowly expiring the field of adventure picture-fiction.

The 1930’s and 1940’s were rich in popular, not to say iconic, creations. You would be hard-pressed to come up with homegrown household names to rival Popeye, Dick Tracy, Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon, let alone Terry and the Pirates, Steve Canyon, or the likes of Little Lulu, Blondie, Li’l Abner, Little Orphan Annie or Popeye and yes, I know I said him twice, but Elzie Segars’s Thimble Theatre was funny as well as thrilling, constantly innovative, and really, really good.

What strips can you recall to equal simple popularity let alone longevity or quality in Britain? Rupert Bear? Absolutely. Giles? Technically, yes. Nipper? Jane? The Perishers? Garth? Judge Dredd? Scorer?

I’d like to hope so, but I doubt it. The Empire didn’t quite get it until it wasn’t an empire any more. There were certainly very many wonderful strips being produced: well-written and beautifully drawn, but that stubborn British reserve plus a completely different editorial view of the marketplace (which just didn’t consider strips infallible, readership-attracting magnets, as American did) never seemed to be in the business of creating household names – until the 1950’s. Something happened in ‘50s Britain, but I’m not going to waste any space here discussing it. It just did.

In a new egalitarian spirit that seemingly craved excitement and accepted previously disregarded, comics (as well as all tawdry “entertainment” media from radio serials to paperback novels) got carried along on the wave. Just like television, periodicals such as Eagle, the regenerated Dandy and Beano and girls’ comics in general all shifted into creative high gear… and so at last did newspapers.

And that means that I can properly extol the virtues of a graphic collection with proven crossover appeal for once. Debut 007 novel Casino Royale was published in 1953 and was subsequently serialised – after much dithering and nervousness on behalf of author Fleming – as a strip in The Daily Express from 1958. It was the start of a beguiling run of novel and short story adaptations scripted by Anthony Hern, Henry Gammidge, Peter O’Donnell and Kingsley Amis, before Jim Lawrence, a jobbing writer of US features (and who’d previously scripted the aforementioned Buck Rogers) came aboard for The Man With the Golden Gun, completing the transfer of the Fleming canon to strip format. Thereafter Lawrence was invited to create new adventures, which he did until the strip’s demise in 1983.

The art on the feature was always of the highest standard. Initially John McLusky handled the illustration until 1966’s conclusion of You Only Live Twice and, although perhaps lacking in flash or verve, the workmanlike clarity of his drawing easily coped with a daunting array of locales, technical set-ups and sheer immensity of cast members, whilst satisfying the then-novel directive of advancing a plot daily whilst ending each episode on a cliff-hanging hook every time.

McLusky was succeeded by Yaroslav Horak, who debuted on Man with the Golden Gun, offering a looser, edgier style, at once more cinematic and with a closer attention to camera angle and frenzied action that seemed to typify the high-octane 1960’s. Horak limned 26 complete adventures until 1977 when The Daily Express axed the Bond feature with a still-running adventure suddenly switching to The Sunday Express from January 30th until conclusion on May 22nd. Later adventures had no UK presence at all, and only appeared in syndication in European papers. This state of affairs continued until 1981 when British paper The Daily Star restored the feature to Britons with ‘Doomcrack’.

Titan Books re-assembled those scarce-seen tales – a heady brew of adventure, sex, intrigue and death – into addictively accessible monochrome Omnibus Editions, (sadly not available digitally at present) with a dedicated band of creators on top form proving how the world’s greatest agent never rests in his mission to keep us all free, safe, shaken (if not stirred) and thoroughly entertained…

This premier no-nonsense paperback gem adapting 11 of Fleming’s best, frantic derring-do and dark, deadly diplomacy commences with ‘Casino Royale’ as British operative Bond is ordered to gamble with and bankrupt Le Chiffre: a communist agent who has insanely embezzled away his Soviet masters’ operating capital.

The moodily compelling tale of tension that results depicts torture and violent death as well as oppressively suspenseful scenes of graphic gambling, heady stuff for newspaper readers of 1958, when it first ran.

Without pausing for breath or a fresh martini, the Bond briefing segues straight into ‘Live and Let Die’ which sees 007 and US agent Felix Leiter tackle Mr. Big, another scurrilous commie agent/devious genius who rules the Harlem underworld through superstition, voodoo and brutal force. Then, ‘Moonraker’ details the attempt by ex-Nazi officer Hugo Drax to drop a guided missile on London, a task made far simpler since the maniac has infiltrated the British aristocracy…

These newspaper strips come from a period when dependable John McLusky was developing a less formal approach, before going on to produce some of his best work. ‘Casino Royale’ was the opening strip in a near 25-year run, and the somewhat muted artwork shows an artist still not completely comfortable with his task. It was adapted and scripted by Anthony Hern, who had won the author’s approval after writing condensed prose versions of the novels for the Daily Express. Live and Let Die and Moonraker were both adapted by Henry Gammidge.

As McLusky settled in for the long haul, he warmed to the potentialities of the job with cracking tales of Cold-War intrigue and fast, dangerous living set in a multitude of exotic locales, and provides here a welcome return to public gaze of some of the most influential – and exciting – comic strips in British history.

The adaptation of ‘Diamonds are Forever’ pits Bond against an insidious diamond smuggling criminals, in an explosive if uncomplicated all-action romp before shifting into terse, low-key thriller ‘From Russia With Love’ (both courtesy of Gammidge & McLusky). The artist hit a creative peak with ‘Dr No’ – perhaps because of the sparkling script from Peter O’Donnell before he sloped off to create the amazing Modesty Blaise. As Bond returns to Jamaica and investigates the disappearance of two operatives he stumbles upon a plot to sabotage the US rocketry program. These stories come from an age at once less jaded but more worldly; a place and time where readers lived daily with the very real threat of instant annihilation. As such, the easy approachability of the material is a credit to the creators.

‘Goldfinger’ faithfully adapts Fleming’s novel of the world’s most ambitious bullion robbery, so if you’re only familiar with the film version there will be some things you’ve not seen before. The action fairly rockets along and tense suspense is maintained throughout this signature tale. Following that is ‘Risico’ as 007 is tasked with stopping heroin smugglers whose motive is not profit but social destabilisation. Next is ‘From a View to a Kill’: a traditional, low-key Cold War thriller with Bond trailing gangsters stealing state secrets by ambushing military dispatch riders…

In the Roger Moore film incarnation Risico was folded into ‘For Your Eyes Only’ but here you get the real deal with a faithful adaptation of Fleming’s short story, wherein Bond is given a mission of revenge and assassination. Set in Jamaica with Nazi war-criminal Von Hammerstein as culprit and target for the man licenced to kill, it’s a solid piece of dramatic fiction that again bears little similarity to the celluloid adventure.

The volume concludes with the then-controversial ‘Thunderball’ adaptation. That particular tale was savagely censored and curtailed at the behest of Daily Express owner Lord Beaverbrook. Five days of continuity were excised but what remains is still pretty engrossing comic fare and at least some effort was made to wrap up the storyline before the strip ended. In case you don’t recall: When Bond is sent on enforced medical leave, he stumbles into a deadly plot to steal nuclear weapons by a subversive organisation calling itself Spectre

These grand stories are a must for not only aficionados of Bond but for all thriller fans, as an example of truly gripping adventure uncluttered by superficial razzamatazz. Get back to basics, and remember that classic style is never out of fashion.
All strips are © Ian Fleming Publications Ltd/Express Newspapers Ltd 1987. James Bond and 007 are ™ & © Danjaq LLC used under license from Ian Fleming Publications Ltd. All rights reserved.

In 1915 prolific scripter Hank Chapman was born, with artistic maestro John Cullen Murphy (Prince Valiant) coming along four years later. Miss Pearl and Momma creator Mel Lazarus popped up in 1927, and Belgian Sammy draughtsman Berck (Arthur Berckmans) in 1928. Comic book legend Denny O’Neil was born in 1939 and Bill Sienkiewicz in 1958. German cartoonist Jan-Michael Richter – of Jamiri fame – came along in 1966 as did Nina Paley in 1968, and Mexican Gerardo Sandoval (Tomb Raider, Venom), and the date saw the first appearance of Zig et Puce (by Alain Saint-Ogan) in 1925; the premiere of Donald Duck (a bit player in Silly Symphony: The Wise Little Hen) in 1934; the launch of Dutch silent comic Fred’nand in 1937and the debut of Tiger by Bud Blake in 1965.

Milton Caniff died today in 1988.

The Mirror Classic Cartoon Collection


By Peter O’Donnell, Jim Edgar, Barrie Tomlinson, Steve Dowling, John Allard, Frank Bellamy, Martin Asbury, Reg Smythe, Jim Holdaway, Jack Greenall, Jack Clayton, John Gillatt & various, compiled by Mike Higgs (Hawk Books)
ISBN: 978-1-89944-175-4 (Album HB)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

Not so much now but once upon a time, The Daily Mirror was home to a number of great British strip seldom matched and never surpassed. That proud boast began with one of the Empire’s greatest successes Tiger Tim, (who debuted there in 1904) and culminated with the likes of war-winning, morale-boosting naive nymph Jane, not to mention The Perishers, Garth, Andy Capp (who has frankly long outlived his appeal!) and many others.

Two of the above cited feature in this beautiful compilation from Mike Higgs’ Hawk Books which did so much over the years to keep British cartoon history alive. This particular triumph gathers sample selections from the newspaper’s back catalogue in a spiffily luxurious oversized (280 x 180 mm) hardback stuffed with fun, thrills and quality nostalgia.

The illustrious Garth is the first star, featured in an adventure from 1957 by series originator and longest serving creator Steve Dowling (1943-1969) – who was succeeded by his assistant John Allard, then Frank Bellamy and finally Martin Asbury.

Garth is a hulking physical specimen, a virtual human superman with the involuntary ability to travel through time and experience past and future lives. This simple concept lent the strip an unfailing potential for exotic storylines and fantastic exploits. ‘The Captive’ – written by Peter O’Donnell and illustrated by Dowling & Allard – is a later tale with our hero abducted from Earth as the prize of a galactic scavenger hunt instigated by bored hedonistic aliens who don’t realise quite what they’ve gotten themselves involved with…

A second adventure, ‘The Man-hunt’, is the last Frank Bellamy worked on. The astounding Mr. Bellamy died in 1976 whilst drawing this yarn of beautiful alien predators in search of prime genetic stock with which to reinvigorate their tired bloodlines. Written by Jim Edgar, the strip was completed by Asbury who took over with the 17th instalment. A tongue-in-cheek thriller, full of thrills and fantastic action, it never loses its light humorous touch.

Andy Capp is a drunken, skiving, misogynistic, work-shy, wife-beating scoundrel who has somehow become one of the most popular and well-loved strip characters of all time. Created by jobbing cartoonist Reg Smythe to appeal to northern readers during a circulation drive, he first saw the light of day – with long-suffering, perpetually abused-but-forgiving wife Florrie in tow – on August 5th 1957. It is not something that has travelled well, but at least proves even Brits can evolve and grow some taste…

This volume reprints 37 strips from the feature’s 41-year run, which only ended with Smythe’s death in 1998 and if I’m completely honest the sheer inexplicable magic of this “lovable rogue” is as appallingly intoxicating as it always was, defeating political correctness and common decency alike; A true Guilty Pleasure, I guess…

Romeo Brown began in 1954, drawn by Dutch artist Alfred “Maz” Mazure, starring a private detective with an eye for the ladies and a nose for trouble. The feature was a light, comedic adventure series adding some much-appreciated honestly needed glamour to the dour mid-1950s, but it really kicked into high gear when Maz left in 1957 to be replaced by Peter O’Donnell and brilliant Jim Holdaway who would go on to create the fabulous Modesty Blaise together. Old Romeo shut up shop in 1962 and is represented here by a pair of romps from the penultimate year. ‘The Arabian Knight’ and ‘The Admiral’s Grand-daughter’ combine sly, knowing humour, bungling criminality and dazzlingly visuals in a manner any Carry-On fan would die for.

Useless Eustace was a gag-panel (a single-picture joke) running from January 1935 to 1985. Created by Jack Greenall, its star was a bald, nondescript everyman who met travails of life with unflinching enthusiasm but very little sense. Greenall produced the strip until 1974, and other artists continued it until 1985. Selections here are from the war years and the 1960s. Another comedy panel was Calamity Gulch, a particularly British view of the ubiquitous Western which invaded our sensibilities with the rise of television ownership in the 1950s. Created by Jack Clayton, it began its spoofery sharp-shooting on 6th June 1960, and you can see 21 of the best right here, Pardner.

A staple of children’s comics that never really prospered in newspapers was sports adventure. At least not until 1989 when those grown up tykes opened the Daily Mirror to find a football strip entitled Scorer, written by Barrie Tomlinson and drawn by Barry Mitchell, and eventually John Gillatt. Very much an updated, R-rated Roy of the Rovers, the strip stars Dave ‘Scorer’ Storry and his team Tolcaster F.C. in fast, hot, “sexy” tales of the Beautiful Game that owed as much to the sports pages it began on as to the grand cartoon tradition.

‘Cup Cracker’ included here is by Tomlinson & Gillatt from 1994, and shows WAGS (Wives And GirlfriendS, non-sports fans) were never a new phenomenon.

Not many people know this – or indeed, care – but before I review an “old” book (which I arbitrarily define as something more than three years old) I look on the internet. It’s a blessing then to still see this wonderful and utterly British tome is readily available in France, Germany – most of Europe in fact and even in Britain. Surely that’s a testament to the book’s quality and desirability, and if that’s the case maybe Mirror Group Newspapers (MGN) or some history-loving print philanthropist should expedite a new edition – or even a few proper comprehensive sequels…
© 1998 Mirror Group Newspapers, Ltd. All Rights Reserved.

Today in 1914 cartoon genius John Stanley (Little Lulu, Thirteen Going on Eighteen, Melvin Monster) was born, with fellow leading lights Bernard Krigstein arriving in 1919, and Mort Drucker in 1929. Steve Dillon (Preacher, Laser Eraser & Pressbutton, The Punisher) and Lew Stringer (Tom Thug, Brickman, Combat Colin, Derek the Troll and his glorious blog Blimey!) both began brightening Britain’s murky shores from today in 1959.

In 1937, UK private eye strip Buck Ryan by Jack Monk & Don Freeman began in the Daily Mirror today, Jean Van Hamme & Grzegorz Rosi?ski’s mega-franchise Thorgal began in Le Journal de Tintin and in 1997 the Daily Mirror published its last Garth strip, ending a run that began in 1943.

Sleepwalk and Other Stories



By Adrian Tomine (Drawn & Quarterly Publications 1998/Faber & Faber)
ISBN: 978-1-89659-711-9 (D&Q), 978-0-57123-331-1 (Faber HB)

We often talk of comics and graphic narrative as if it’s one homogenous lump, and as well as doing the medium a tremendous disservice it’s also incredibly misleading. Those people that haughtily declaim “Oh, We Never Watch Television” usually mean they deplore whatever it is you’ve just mentioned, but that their own viewing habits somehow don’t count.

And in a way they’re absolutely correct. For them the term is a group pejorative. But Bake Off is not Eastenders is not The Sky at Night is not Stranger Things. The medium is now a conveyance, the content is a product you can select or decline. Now try that phrase with the concept of comics.

Adrian Tomine draws pictures and tells stories. They are about “Now”, and “I feel that…” and “How does…?” His Spartan monochromatic drawing style works as an ideal camera for his elegiac documentaries. In an art form that too often relies on hyperbole and melodrama – not just for content but for narrative technique – he eschews bravura for insight, telling little tales about the commonplace and the ordinary, showing just how extraordinary and poetic a “realer” life can be. As an exemplar and primer of one of the greatest graphic storytellers of our age (well mine, at least) this is a still his most compelling work, although you (and probably I) might want to reflect and consider 2020’s The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist

Originally released as issues 1-4 of Optic Nerve, Sleepwalk presented sixteen vignettes of broken hearts and trampled dreams, of uncompromising self-recriminations and day-to-day reminiscences that make us all shrug and think “well, there’s always tomorrow…”

If you read Maus for the scale of Man’s capacity for evil or Stuck Rubber Baby for his ability to change and overcome, then Sleepwalk should access your capacity to empathise and endure. Few comics comment on the Human Condition without taking a strident position. Here’s one that asks you to choose your own, and choose it every single time. Find it. Buy it. Read it.

Think about it. Agitate for one its many past publishers to re-release it…
© 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998 Adrian Tomine. All Rights Reserved.
Yesterday in 1847, pioneering French cartoonist/caricaturist “Grandville” (AKA Jean Ignace Isidore Gérard/Jean-Jacques/J. J. Grandville et al) ended an era by dying…

In 1877, Dutchman of similar status and impact Albert Hahn was born, as was legendary Marvel Comics icon Flo Steinberg in 1939, and in 1950 German satirist (imagine that!) and comics star creator of Werner Rötger Werner Friedrich Wilhelm Brösel Feldmann arrived, as did Mutts creator Patrick McDonnell in 1956.

Yesterday in 1972 we lost Cuban star Antonio Rubio in 1972 and US cartoonist Russell Patterson (Mamie), but the day in 1951 saw Davie Law’s Dennis the Menace begin in The Beano, the premiere issue of Japan’s Weekly Shonen Magazine in 1959 and the first episode of Greg EvansLuann in 1985.
Today in 1889 Reg’lar Fellers cartoonist Gene Byrnes was born, just like author/artist/inker (Frank McLaughlin (Judomaster, Justice League of America, everything) in 1935.Belgian creator Marcel Denis (Hultrasson) passed away in 2002 and we lost the magnificently macabre Bernie Wrightson (Swamp Thing, Frankenstein, Batman) in 2017. In 1985 UK weekly Buster published the last episode of The Leopard from Lime Street

Mandrake the Magician: The Hidden Kingdom of Murderers – Sundays 1935-1937


By Lee Falk & Phil Davis (Titan Books)
ISBN: 978-0-85768-572-8 (HB)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

Regarded by many as comics’ first superhero, Mandrake the Magician debuted as a daily newspaper strip on June 11th 1934, although creator Lee Falk had sold the strip almost a decade previously. Initially drawing it too, Falk replaced himself as soon as feasible, allowing the early wonderment to materialise through the effective understatement of sublimely solid draughtsman Phil Davis. An instant hit, Mandrake was quickly supplemented by a full-colour Sunday companion page from February 3rd 1935.

Falk – as 19-year-old college student Leon Harrison Gross – had sold the strip to King Features Syndicate years earlier, but asked the monolithic company to let him finish his studies before dedicating himself to it full time. Schooling done, the 23-year-old born raconteur settled into his life’s work, entertaining millions with astounding tales. Falk also created the first costumed superhero in moodily magnificent generational manhunter The Phantom, going on to spawn an entire comic book subgenre with his first creation.

Most Golden Age publishers boasted at least one (and usually many) nattily attired wizards in their gaudily-garbed pantheons: all roaming the world(s) making miracles and crushing injustice with varying degrees of stage legerdemain or actual sorcery – characters like Mr. Mystic, Ibis the Invincible, Sargon the Sorcerer, and an assortment of the Magician”’s like Zatara, Zanzibar and Kardak. In the Antipodes, Mandrake was a suave, stalwart of Australian Women’s Weekly and a cherished icon of adventure in the UK, Australia, Italy, Brazil, Germany, Spain, France, Turkey and across Scandinavia: a major star of page and screen, pervading every aspect of global consciousness.

Over many decades he has been a star of radio, movie chapter-serials, a theatrical play, television and animation (as part of series Defenders of the Earth). With all that came the usual merchandising bonanza – games, toys (including magic trick kits), books, comics and more…

Falk worked on Mandrake and “The Ghost who Walks” until his death in 1999 (even on his deathbed, he was laying out one last story), but also found a few quiet moments to become a renowned playwright, theatre producer and impresario, as well as an inveterate world-traveller. A man of many talents, Falk drew the first few weeks himself before uniting with sublimely imaginative cartoonist Phil Davis, whose sleekly understated renditions took the daily strip – and especially these expansive full-page Sunday offerings – to unparalleled heights of sophistication: his steady assured realism the perfect tool to render the Magician’s mounting catalogue of wondrous miracles…

Those in the know are well aware that Mandrake was educated at the fabled College of Magic in Tibet, thereafter becoming a suave globe-trotting troubleshooter, always accompanied by his faithful African partner Lothar and beautiful, feisty companion (and eventually, in 1997 (!), bride) Princess Narda of Cockaigne, solving crimes and fighting evil. Those days, however, are still to come as the comics section opens in this splendidly oversized (315 x 236 mm) full-colour luxury hardback – and digital equivalents – with ‘The Hidden Kingdom of Murderers’ (running from February 3rd to June 2nd 1935) as the eccentrically urbane Prince of Prestidigitation and his herculean companion are approached by members of the international police to help expose a secret society of criminals and killers acting against the civilised world from their own hidden country.

After officer Duval is assassinated, Mandrake and Lothar – accompanied by panther woman Rheeta and surviving cop Pierce – embark upon a multi-continental search which, after many adventures, eventually brings them to a desolate desert region where they are confronted by bloody-handed Bull Ganton, King of Killers. With the master murderer distracted by Rheeta, Mandrake easily infiltrates the odious organisation and quickly begins dismantling a secret society of two million murderers. By the time Ganton wises up and begins a succession of schemes to end Mandrake, it’s far too late…

That deadly drama concluded, Mandrake & Lothar head to India to revisit old haunts and end up playing both peacemaker and cupid in the ‘Land of the Fakirs’ (June 9th – October 6th). When Princess Jana, daughter of Mandrake’s old acquaintance Jehol Khan, is abducted by rival ruler Rajah Indus of Lapore, the Magician ends his mischievous baiting of the street fakirs to intervene. In the meantime, Captain Jorga – who loves Jana despite being of a lower caste – sets off from the Khan’s palace to save her or die in the trying…

After many terrific and protracted struggles, Mandrake, Lothar & Jorga finally unite to defeat the devious duplicitous Rajah before the westerners set about their most difficult and important feat – overturning centuries of tradition so that Jorga and Jana might marry…

Heading north, the peripatetic performers stumble into amazing fantasy after entering the ‘Land of the Little People’ (13th October 1935 – March 1st 1936), encountering a lost race of tiny people embroiled in centuries-long war with brutal cannibalistic adversaries. After saving the proud warriors from obliteration, Mandrake again plays matchmaker, allowing valiant Prince Dano to wed brave and formidable commoner Derina who fought so bravely beside them. With this sequence, illustrator Davis seemed to shake off all prior influences and truly blossomed into an artist with a unique and mesmerising style all his own.

That is perfectly showcased in the loosely knit sequence (8th March to 23rd August 1936) which follows, as Mandrake & Lothar return to civilisation only to narrowly escape death in an horrific train wreck. Crawling from the wreckage, our heroes help ‘The Circus People’ recapture and calm the animals freed by the crash, subsequently sticking around as the close-knit family of nomadic outcasts rebuild. Mighty Lothar has many clashes with jealous bully Zaro the Strongman, culminating in thwarting attempted murder, whilst Mandrake uses his hypnotic hoodoo to teach sadistic animal trainer Almado lessons in how to behave, but primarily the newcomers act as a catalyst, making three slow-burning romances finally burst into roaring passionate life…

Absolutely the best tale in this tome and an imaginative tour de force that inspired many soon-to-be legendary comic book stars, ‘The Chamber into the X Dimension’ (30th August 1936 to March 7th 1937) is a breathtaking, mindbending saga starting when Mandrake & Lothar seek the missing daughter of a scientist whose experiments have sent her literally out of this world. Professor Theobold has discovered a way to pierce the walls between worlds but his beloved Fran never returned from the first live test. Eager to help – and addicted to adventure – Mandrake & Lothar volunteer to go in search of her and find themselves in a bizarre timeless world where the rules of science are warped and races of sentient vegetation, living metal, crystal and even flame war with fleshly humanoids for dominance and survival.

After months of captivity, slavery, exploration and struggle our human heroes finally lead a rebellion of the downtrodden fleshlings and bring the professor the happiest news of his long-missing child…

Concluding this initial conjuror’s compilation is a whimsical tale of judgement and redemption as Mandrake uses his gifts to challenge the mad antics of ‘Prince Paulo the Tyrant’ 14th (March 14th – 29th August 1937). The unhappy usurper had stolen the throne of Ruritanian Dementor and promptly turned the idyllic kingdom into a scientifically created madhouse. Sadly, Paulo had no conception of what true chaos and terror were until the magician exercised his mesmeric talents…

This epic celebration also offers a fulsome, picture-packed and informative introduction to the character – thanks to Magnus Magnuson’s compelling essay ‘Mandrake the Magician Wonder of a Generation’ – plus details on the lives of the creators (‘Lee Falk’ and ‘Phil Davis Biography’ features) plus a marvellous Davis pin-up of the cast to complete an immaculate confection of nostalgic strip wonderment for young and old alike.
Mandrake the Magician © 2016 King Features Syndicate. All Rights Reserved. “Mandrake the Magician Wonder of a Generation” © 2016 by Magnus Magnuson.

MAD day today. Al Jaffee was born in 1921 and Sam Viviano turned up in 1953. In between, Italian creator of Zagor Franco Donatelli was born in 1924 and Spain’s Superlópez creator Jan (Juan López Fernández) arrived in 1939.

As you are already aware today was the Day Lee Falk embarked on his final voyage.

Footrot Flats Book 7


By Murray Ball (Onrin Books)
ISSN: 978-0864640222 (PB)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced for comedic effect.

Once upon a time, Britain ran an Empire, and now we’ve found a more equitable station as just one of 56 (ish) independent nations in a Commonwealth. This is a fluid and ongoing situation so keep watching…

Some of those nations have always been handy with comebacks, rejoinders and cartoon salvos of their own, and whilst this particular item may not have the political venom of Murray Ball’s earlier works, it more than makes up for it by being the absolute best comedy strip the Commonwealth has ever produced (and yes, I’m even including our very own long lost and much missed The Perishers).

New Zealand’s greatest natural wonder and National Treasure was in fact a comic strip. Footrot Flats is one of the funniest ever created, designed as a practical antidote to idealistic pastoral fantasy and bucolic self-deception and concocted in 1975 by cartoonist and comics artist Murray Ball after returning to his New Zealand homeland from an extended work tour of the UK and other, lesser, climes.

The fantastical farm feature ran for a quarter of a century, appearing in newspapers on four continents until 1994 when Ball retired it, citing reasons as varied as the death of his own dog and the state of New Zealand politics. Such success naturally spawned a multitude of merchandising material such as strip compendia, calendars and special editions released regularly from 1978 onwards.

Once Ball officially ceased the daily feature he began periodically releasing books of all-new material until 2000, with a net yield of 27 collections of the daily strip, 8 volumes of Sunday pages dubbed “Weekenders”, 5 pocket books and ancillary publications such as “school kits” aimed at younger fans and their harried parents. There was a stage musical, a theme park and in 1986 a truly superb feature-length animated film. The Dog’s Tail Tale became New Zealand’s top-grossing film (and remained so until Peter Jackson started associating with Hobbits) – track it down online or petition the BBC to show it again; it’s been decades, for Pete’s sake…

The well-travelled, extremely gifted and deeply dedicated Mr. Ball had originally moved to England in the early 1960s, becoming a cartoonist for Punch (crafting Stanley the Palaeolithic Hero and All the King’s Comrades) as well as drawing numerous strips for DC Thompson and Fleetway and even concocting a regular political satire strip in Labour Weekly. After marrying, he returned to the Old Country and resettled in 1974 – but not to retire. Ball was busier than ever once he’d bought a small-holding on the North Island to farm in his “spare time”, which inevitably led to the strip under review here.

Taking the adage “write what you know” to startling, heartbreaking and occasionally stomach-turning heights, the peripatetic pencilpusher broke most of the laws of relativity to make time for these captivatingly insane episodes concerning the highs and lows – and most frequently “absurd” – of the rural entrepreneur as experienced by the earthily metaphoric Wallace Footrot Cadwallader: a proper bloke never too-far removed from mud, mayhem, ferocity and frustration…

Wal is a big, bluff farmer. He likes his grub; loves his sport – Rugby, Football (the Anzac sort, not the kiddie version Yanks call Soccer) Cricket, Golf(ish) and even hang-gliding; each in its proper season and at no other, since he just wants the easiest time a farmer’s life can offer…

Wal owns a small sheep farm (the eponymous Footrot Flats) honestly described as “400 acres of swamp between Ureweras and the Sea”…

With his chief – and only – hand Cooch Windgrass (a latter-day Francis of Assisi), and a verbose and avuncular sheepdog, Wal enjoys being his own boss – as much as the farm cat, goats, chickens, livestock and his auntie will let him.

Other persons of perennial interest include Wal’s fierce and prickly little niece Janice – known to all as Pongo – the aforementioned Aunt Dolly (AKA sternly staunch and starched Dolores Monrovia Godwit Footrot); smart-ass local lad Rangi Wiremu Waka Jones; Dolly’s pompous and pampered Corgi Prince Charles and Pew, a sadistic, inventive, obsessed and vengeful magpie who bears an unremitting grudge against Wal…

When not living in terror of the monumental moggy dubbed Horse, teasing the corpulent Corgi or panic-attacking himself in imagined competition with noble hunting hound Major, The Dog narrates and hosts the strip.

A cool, imaginative and overly sentimental know-all and blowhard, Dog is utterly devoted to his (for lack of a better term) Master – unless there’s food about, or Jess the sheepdog bitch is in heat again. However, the biggest and most terrifying scene-stealer was that fulsome feline Horse; a monstrous and imperturbable tomcat who lords it over every living thing in the district…

One of the powerful and persistent clichés of life is that to make people laugh one truly needs to experience tragedy and, having only recently lost two of my own four-footed studio-mates and constant companions, I can certainly empathise with the artist’s obvious manly distress as this otherwise magnificently hilarious collection is movingly dedicated to the uniquely charming real-world inspiration for the battered and bewhiskered juggernaut… which only makes the comedy capers contained within even more bittersweet and effective, beginning with the poem to his departed companion and the bluff, brisk photo tribute which opens proceedings.

Once again the funny businesses comes courtesy of the loquacious canine softie, taking time out from eking out his daily crusts (and oysters and biscuits and cake and lamb’s tails and scraps and chips and…) and alternately getting on with or annoying the sheep, cows, bull, goat, hogs, ducks, bugs, cats, horses and geese, as well as sucking up to the resolutely hostile wildlife and the decidedly odd humans his owner knows or is related to.

Dog – his given name is an embarrassing, closely and violently guarded secret – loves Wal but always tries to thwart him if the big bloke is trying to do unnecessarily necessary farm chores like chopping down trees, burning out patches of scrub, culling livestock, or trying to mate with the pooch’s main rival Darlene “Cheeky” Hobson, hairdresser-in-residence of the nearest town. As is also the case with the adoring comradeship of proper blokes, Dog is never happier than when embarrassing his mate in front of others, which explains those pages extracted from Wal’s old albums, showing the man to be in various humiliating baby shots and schoolboy scrapes…

Following on is the epic adventure ‘The Invasion of the Murphy Dogs’ – barbaric hounds from a neighbouring farm only afraid of one thing…

This extra-large (262 x 166 mm) landscape monochrome seventh volume came from Australian Publisher Onrin Books and continued the policy of dividing strips into approximately seasonal sequences, and after a few more all-original cartoons again opens with ‘Spring’ – the busiest season of the farmer’s year (apart from the other three) – and concentrates on Pew’s first attempts at avian homemaking, Dog’s libido, horny farmers and hussy-hairdressers, loopy lambs, wild pigs, killer eels and CRICKET, as well as an extended sequence in which Wal and the Dog become involved in the local school’s curriculum and cuisine…

Once the long hot ‘Summer’ settles in, bringing fun with chicken-shearing, busy bees, a plague of carnivorous Wekas, thistles, Horse’s softer side (!) and his war with Pongo and Aunt Dolly, Hare infestations, river-rafting, Irish Murphy’s Pigs (far worse than his dogs), Cheeky’s picnic charm-offensive and the growing closeness of Rangi and Pongo…

‘Autumn’ brings piglets, scrub-burning, the revenge of dispossessed magpies, amorous bovines, fun with artificial insemination, fence-lining and back country cattle, honey-harvesting, darts and rugby, a confused ram who’d rather pursue Dolly than associate with eager ewes and Horse’s crucial role in the war against the magpies…

As ‘Winter’ closes in, offering floods, the mixed messy joy of lambing season, mud, mad goats, whitebait fishing and footy, Wal unwisely agrees to take a class of schoolkids and their puritanical, prudish and priggish teacher on an eye-opening nature-lesson around Footrot Flats. Touched by the painful experience, the bluff cove then volunteers to coach the school’s sports and, after much humiliation, spends the rest of the book discovering how hard – and, for all us observers, funny – farming in a plaster cast can be…

As you’d expect, the comedy content is utterly, absolutely top-rate and the extended role played throughout by the surly star Horse all the more poignant…

Murray Ball – who died in 2017 – was one of those truly gifted individuals who could actually imbue a few lines on paper with the power of Shakespeare’s tragedy and the manic hilarity of jester geniuses like Tommy Cooper or the Marx Brothers. When combined with his sharp, incisive yet warmly human writing, the result was, is, and will remain sheer, irresistible magic.

In the early 1990s Titan Books published British editions of the first three volumes and German, Japanese, Chinese and American translations also exist, as well as the marvellous Australian compendia reviewed here – as ever the internet is your friend (although prices for individual volumes can make your eyes water, so if ever there was an argument for a comprehensive archival re-release, sheer profit would seem to be it)…

Dry, surreal and wonderfully self-deprecating, Footrot Flats always successfully wedded together sarcasm, satire, slapstick and strikingly apt surrealism in a perfect union of pathos and down to earth (and up to your eyebrows) fun that was and still is utterly addicting, exciting and just plain wonderful.

Plant the seeds for a lifetime of laughs by harvesting this or indeed any volume and you’ll soon see a bumper crop of fun irrespective of the weather or market forces.
© 1981-1982 Murray Ball. All Rights Reserved.

Today in 1900, Frederick Burr Opper’s Happy Hooligan first appeared, as did legendary Spanish comic TBO in 1917 and Mort Walker’s Boner’s Ark in 1968. Colour artist Lynn Varley was born today in 1958, and deaths include The Gambols creator Barry Appleby in 1996, Harvey Comics stalwart Sid Couchey in 2012 and Murray Ball in 2017.

Lost at Sea


By Brian Lee O’Malley (Oni Press)
ISBN: 978-0-932664-16-4 (PB); 978-1-62010-113-1 (10th Anniversary Edition HB)

You’ve no doubt heard that appallingly clichéd phrase “it’s about the journey”?

Well, sometimes it actually is.

This moody, enticingly sensitive and charming not-coming-of-age road-trip argosy is by Bryan Lee O’Malley, whose Scott Pilgrim tales of an adorable boy-idol idle slacker seemed to encapsulate the tone and tenor of the last-but-one generation to have invented sex and music and growing up confused…

Lost at Sea is a lovely languid and lyrical look at a self-confessed outsider, couched in terms of a quasi-mystical mystery and rendered in an utterly captivating, boldly simple style simultaneously redolent of childhood misgivings and anticipatory tales of horror and imagination.

High School senior Raleigh is a passenger in a car slowly meandering its way back to Vancouver from California. She doesn’t really know Stephanie or the boys Dave & Ian. She only met them because dippy Stephanie never deletes any numbers from her phone and pocket-dialled her by coincidental accident, just moments after Raleigh missed her train home. She had been enduring an unfortunate visit with her dad and his latest woman near San Francisco. As the Canadian kids had a car and were heading back north, somehow, although a social misfit and practical stranger, Raleigh ended up travelling homeward with them…

Even though they all go to the same school – Sturton Academy – these kids are not really like her. They weren’t hot-housed or sent to “gifted” classes… and they still have their souls…

Raleigh lives with her mum and really misses her best friend, who she hasn’t seen in four years, six months and 24 days. Raleigh also has a secret internet boyfriend in California (the real reason for visiting Dad and his new lady) and is very confused and lonely after travelling to meet darling Stillman.

Raleigh lost her soul in Ninth Grade when her mother sold it to Satan in return for being successful, but the girl can’t quite remember why it was put into a cat. Ever since then, cats seem to crop up everywhere she goes, even following her, and she can’t tell if she’s crazy or imagining it all.

Naturally, Raleigh is violently allergic to cats…

However, when she finally loosens up and tells Stephanie her satanic secret, the boisterous wild child admits to seeing them too and suggests they should catch them and see if they can be made to cough up that stolen soul. Dave & Ian are game too…

Expressionistic, impressionistic, existential, self-absorbed, vastly compassionate, deeply introspective and phenomenally evocative of that monstrous ball of confusion that is the End of Adolescence, Lost at Sea is a graphic marvel which seems, from my admittedly far-distant perspective, the perfect description of that so-human rite of passage we all endured and mostly survived.

There was a 10th Anniversary edition, but as far as I can tell no digital edition (yet) but that’s still plenty to be going on with, right? Buy it for your teenagers, read it to rekindle your own memories and cherish it because it’s wonderful.

™ & © 2002, 2003, 2005, 2008 Bryan Lee O’Malley. All Rights Reserved.

Today in 1948, Doug Moench (Batman, Moon Knight, Planet of The Apes, Shang Chi, Master of Kung Fu) was born and we lost the amazing, under-adored Don Heck (Iron Man, Avengers, Batgirl, everybody) in 1995. Reading-wise, 1913 saw the launch of Gus Mager’s Hawkshaw the Detective in 1913, Marge’s Little Lulu in 1935 and Britain’s Lion weekly in 1952. It was also the last episode of Makoto Yukimura’s Planetes in 2004.

A Cartoon History of the Monarchy


By Michael Wynn Jones and Many & Various (Macmillan)
ISBN: 978-0333198056 (PB)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

We’re far too reluctant in this country to celebrate the history and quality of our own cartooning tradition; preferring simply to remark on the attention-grabbers or impressive longevity of one or two classic and venerable veterans of the pen-&-ink game for TV soundbites and platform clickbait. The actual truth is that for an incredibly long time the political art movement of the Empire and Commonwealth – and its enemies – was vast, varied and fantastically influential.

The British wing of the form has been magnificently serviced over centuries by masters of form, line, wash and most importantly ideas, repeatedly tickling our funny bones or enraging our sleeping consciences and sensibilities, all whilst poking our communal pomposities and fascinations.

From earliest inception, satiric draughtsmanship has been used to attack and sell: initially ideas, values, opinions and prejudices or but eventually actual products too. In newspapers, magazines and especially comic books, the sheer power of graphic narrative, with its ability to create emotional affinities, has led to the creation of unforgettable images and characters – and the destruction of real people or social systems.

When those creations can affect the daily lives of millions of readers, the force they can apply in the commercial or political arena is well-nigh irresistible…

In Britain, the cartoonist has held a bizarrely precarious position of power for centuries: the deftly designed bombastic broadside or savagely surgical satirical slice instantly capable of ridiculing, exposing, uplifting or deflating the powerfully elevated, unapproachable and apparently untouchable with a simple shaped-charge of scandalous wit and crushingly clear, universally understandable visual metaphor.

For this method of concept transmission, lack of literacy or education is no barrier. As the Catholic Church proved centuries ago with the Stations of the Cross, stained glass windows and a superteam of idealised saints, a picture is worth far more than a thousand words…

For as long as we’ve had printing there have been scurrilous gadfly artists commentating on rulers, society and all iniquities: pictorially haranguing the powerful, pompous, privileged and just plain perfidious through swingeing satire and cunning caricature. Sometimes artists have been just plain mean. Those are usually the best and most memorable…

Britain had no monopoly on talent and indignation, and this canny compendium also frequently features European – and latterly American – takes on our always-scandalous Royals (wow, is THAT true today!) and oddball citizenry…

Released in 1978 and desperately in need of updating and re-issue, A Cartoon History of the Monarchy offers a potted, far from hagiographic history and deliciously skewed view of our Ruling Elite in all their unsavoury glory. Here reside an unbroken line of jibes, asides and broadsides culled from diverse sources by jobbing journalist and aficionado of japes, lampoons and sketches Michael Wynn Jones, who casts his discriminating eye from the reign of Elizabeth I up until just before the Silver Jubilee of the second Regina to bear the name…

Following a rota of the Kings and Queens of England, the pomposity-puncturing procession commences with The Age of Intolerance, reproducing cartoons and adding commentary dealing with the doings of the 10 monarchs from the initial Elizabeth I to George II.

Accompanying essays share the zeitgeist of those times; the religious questions as England, Wales, Ireland and eventually Scotland faced numerous crises regarding succession. That issue always revolved around whether the land should be Catholic or Protestant. ‘Popes, Plots and Puritans’ led to a final solution when ‘The Men from Hanover’ arrived to settle the matter and fully cement the nation under the Church of England.

A savage sampling of national and European opinions are represented by 26 visual bombards such as allegorical assault ‘Diana and Callisto’ by Dutch artist Miricenys (1585), anonymous ‘England’s Miraculous Preservation’ (1648) and ‘The Royal Oake of Brittayn’ (1649) amongst many others.

Cartoon grotesques like ‘Cromwell’s Car’ (1649) or ‘Babel and Bethel’ (1679) appear beside such scandalous foreign attacks as Dutch illustrator Dusart’s ‘Fr. James King’ or anonymous French pictorial polemic ‘Notice of Burial’ (both from 1690). We Brits riposted with jeering celebrations of martial triumphs such as ‘The Arrival of William and Mary’ (1689), ‘The Great Eclipse of the Sun’ (simultaneously a topical spin on a 1706 solar event and defeat of “Sun King” Louis XIV by the British armies of Queen Anne), and ‘A Bridle for the French King’ from the same year.

Domestic contretemps are highlighted through such draughtsman’s delights as anonymous 1743 shocker ‘The Hanover Bubble’, Ebersley’s ‘The Agreeable Contrast’ (1746 and attacking King George’s brother “Butcher” Cumberland’s treatment of Jacobites after the Young Pretender’s defeat), and exposure of Popish influence in the Highlands, described in ‘The Chevalier’s Market’ 1745…

Whereas much of this material – British and otherwise – was generally national commentary and pure religio-political assault, by the time period covered in The Wickedest Age: George III to George IV (1760-1830), the cartoon had also evolved into a weapon designed to wound with wit and crush through cruel caricature. After covering major crises and scandals of the generally sensible – if parsimonious – third George in ‘The Royal Malady’, ‘The Dregs of Their Dull Race’ and ‘Twilight Years’: a veritable Golden Age of popular disapproval and pictorial pummelling of the Prince Regent and much-delayed, frustrated monarch (plus his many indiscreet mistresses) is covered in ‘The Prince of Whales’, ‘The Secret Marriage’, ‘…Pray Get Me a Glass of Brandy’ and ‘Delicate Investigations’.

The public disdain of the times generated a fusillade of cartoon prints, represented here by 35 graphic thrusts and savage cartoon sallies by names now as famous as any ruler. However master character assassins Townsend (‘The Scotch hurdy-gurdy’), George Cruikshank (‘Royal Condescension’), Gillray (‘A New Way to Pay the National Debt’, ‘A Voluptuary under the Horrors of Digestion’), Rowlandson (‘The Prospect Before Us’) and Heath (‘A Triumph of innocence over perjury’) are brilliantly bolstered by lesser lights West (‘The Save-all and the Extinguisher!’), Williams (‘Low Life above stairs’), Vowles (‘The shelter for the destitute’) and Marshall (‘The kettle calling the pot ugly names’) and some anonymous pen-pricks who nevertheless hit hard with ‘Tempora Mutantor’, ‘The captive Prince’ and ‘Reading of the Imperial decree’ and more.

Eventually, periodical publication overtook print-shops as the great disseminators of cartoon imagery, and open savagery and targeted vulgarity of caricaturists gradually gave way to mannered, if barbed, genteel observation. Thus The Age of Discretion: William IV to Victoria (1830-1901) offers a different style of Royal Commentary: no less challenging, but certainly more overtly respectful even when critical. Sometimes, though, the new family-oriented cartooning – even in magazines like Punch and The Times – simply sunk to fawning veneration as the institution of monarchy became more and more removed from the lives of the citizenry.

William’s times are summed up in text via ‘The Sailor King’ and ‘Reform Billy’ whilst Victoria’s epochal reign and the Parliamentarians who increasingly wielded decisive power is described through ‘The Queen of the Whigs’, ‘Revolutions are bad for the Country’, ‘The Black and the Brown’ and ‘Years of Widowhood’. The 36 collected images recapture days of Empire, with Heath, Seymour & Doyle predominant in illustrating bluff sea-dog William’s socially contentious days of Reform (no, not our modern bunch of useless Gammons, but actually people seemingly seeking to make the country better very long ago…)

Victoria’s years – from engaging popular ingénue Queen, through happy bride to politically intrusive grand dame of European Court intrigue – highlights the craft of Doyle ‘The Queen in Danger’ (1837), Leech ‘There’s Always Something’ (1852), Tenniel ‘Queen Hermione’ (1865), ‘New Crowns for Old Ones!’ (1876), Morgan (Where is Britannia?’ and ‘A Brown Study’ (both 1867) and Sambourne ‘Kaiser-i-Hind’ (1876) amongst so many others. Her latter years saw a rise in social conscience cartooning as displayed by the crusading Merry with ‘The Scapegrace of the Family’ (1880), ‘The fall of the rebels’ in 1886 and more. The telling modernist take of Max Beerbohm cuttingly illustrated the rift between the Empress and her playboy heir in ‘The rare, the rather awful visits of Albert Edward to Windsor Castle’

Despite her well-publicised disapproval of the good-time Prince, he became an effective king as did his son, both covered in The Edwardian Age: Edward VII to George V, spanning 1901-1936. Their dutiful achievements are depicted in ‘The Coming King’ and ‘The First Gentleman of Europe’ before war with Germany necessitated a family name change for George: ‘The First Windsor’

With kings increasingly used as good-will ambassadors and cited in scandals frequently ending in court (sound familiar?), the 30 cartoons in this section include many German pieces from not only the war years but also the tense decade that preceded them. At that time of tinderbox politics, Imperial Superpowers jostled for position and used propaganda to appeal to the world’s “unwashed masses” for justification in their aims and ambitions. Beside veteran caricaturists like Leech, Morgan, May, Partridge, Staniforth and David Low are merciless lampoons from German cartoonists Brandt, Blir, Heine, Gulbransson and Johnson as well as French illustrator Veber and lone American Kirby.

Our pen-&-ink pictorial history lesson concludes with The Age of Respectability: Edward VIII, George VI, Elizabeth II, by generally skipping World War II, concentrating on the openly secret scandal of Edward & Mrs Simpson in ‘Abdication’. Thereafter the advent of ‘New Elizabethans’ brought a modern age of monarchs as sideshow attractions…

Although Fleet Street chose to whitewash and suppress the affair between a King-in-waiting and an American divorcee, the rest of the world made great play of the situation: as seen here with 11 telling cartoon shots from Americans McCutcheon and Orro, whilst French scribbler Effel posited typically insouciant Gallic pragmatism in ‘Une Solution’ and German-based Gulbransson played up the true romance angle…

In the meantime, British cartoonist Low had to be at his most obliquely hilarious, delineating the crisis by not mentioning it, whilst Punch stars such as Partridge steadfastly pursued a line of deferential, tragic sacrifice…

Although there is very little material featuring wartime monarch George VI – a propaganda casualty of the conflict – the last 20 cartoons herein celebrate the changing image of a very public Royal Family, pictured by names hopefully familiar to contemporary cartoon lovers.

The imagery is also contextually far more familiar – and presumably comfortable – to modern tastes as print media generally learned to save their vitriol for politicians and celebrities: reserving only minor chidings and silly teasing for “the Royals”, as seen in ‘Birthday Greetings’ and ‘Under the Splendid Empire Tree’ (Shepard fin 1947) or Illingworth’s 1951 panels ‘Family Ties’ and ‘Happy Returns’. Papers were, however, happy to utilise monarchy to score points against governments, as seen in an attack on Enoch Powell (Cummings’ ‘Ministry of Repatriation’) and the battle between Rhodesia’s Ian Smith and Harold Wilson, lampooned in ‘Your Move!’ by Jak (both 1968) or the legendary Giles’ ‘New Rent Assistance Bill’ (1971).

Also offering acerbic jollity of a far more blueblood-specific variety are cartoon giants Trog and Waite, joining the abovementioned in exploiting the Royal Family’s gift for headline-stealing gaffes in such daring gags as ‘I Suppose we did send them to the Right Schools?’, ‘I Suppose she’ll think these are of the Queen Mother’, ‘More Pay’ and ‘Andrew’s Exchange Student’: coming full circle with the best of Hanoverian excesses scrutinised by cost-conscious government and public – albeit this time for rather more gentle laughs…

Appended with a scholarly section of Acknowledgements, Illustration sources and Index of artists, this is an extremely effective introduction to the lasting relationship between Royalty, Church and Fourth Estate, offering a fantastic overview of Regal adaptability and cultural life through cunningly contrived images and pictorial iconography that shaped society and the world.

These are timeless examples of the political pictorialist’s uncanny power and, as signs of the times, form a surprising effecting gestalt of the never-happy nation’s feeling and character.

None of that actually matters now, since these cartoons have performed the task they were intended for: moulding attitudes of generations of voters who never voted for monarchy. That they have also stood the test of time and remain beloved relics of a lethal art form is true testament to their power and passion.

Stuffed with astounding images, fascinating lost ephemera and mouth-watering tastes of comic art no aficionado could resist, this colossal collection is a beautiful piece of cartoon history to delight and tantalise all who read it.

We haven’t had many monarchs since this book was first released, but there are plenty of new Royals and so many scandals to explore, so it’s long past time for a fresh edition, no?

NOW CAN WE HAVE A NEW REVISED EDITION PLEASE?
© Michael Wynn Jones 1978. All rights reserved.

Today in 1893 attorney and psychologist Elizabeth Holloway Marston was born, although you won’t find her name on any of the Wonder Woman stories she wrote with her husband. In 1929 Australian John Dangar Dixon (Air Hawk and the Flying Doctors – which ran from 1959 until 1986) was born, as was Torpedo creator Enrique Sánchez Abulí in 1945 and colourist Steve Oliff in 1954. Dwayne McDuffie arrived in 1962, as did Mike Allred, whilst Lady Killer, Batman & Catwoman scribe Joëlle Jones didn’t join the party until 1980.

We lost both Superman stalwart Wayne Boring and Blake & Mortimer creator Edgar Pierre Jacobs in 1987 and strips scribe Elliot Caplin (Dr. Bobbs, Peter Scratch, Big Ben Bolt, Abbie an’ Slats, Long Sam, Little Orphan Annie, The Heart of Juliet Jones) in 2000.

If you’re British and never grew up, today in 1971 TV based weekly Countdown launched…

Adulthood is a Myth – A “Sarah’s Scribbles” Collection


By Sarah Andersen (Andrews McMeel)
ISBN: 978-1-44947-419-5 (PB/Digital edition)

Scary times need radical solutions, but in lieu of that and considering how helpless we all are, all I can suggest is burying yourself in a book (gallows pun not intended). Here’s one that is both funny and incisive and is available online either in physical form or digitally. Moreover, as it’s about – and by – a Millennial, all us old sods who lived through a few crises can chortle and feel smugly superior in the knowledge that problems such as these in here are transitory and shall also pass. That one was deliberate…

Sarah’s Scribbles started in 2013 as a webcomic (first on Tumblr, and latterly Facebook, Instagram and Line Webtoon) before going legit in 2016 in as a book from Andrews McMeel. Adulthood is a Myth was followed by Big Mushy Happy Lump in 2017, Herding Cats in 2018 and Oddball in 2021. Every collection won that year’s Goodreads Choice Award. That’s because the strips and lead character are accessible, personable, relatable and fetchingly funny.

Autobiographical to a degree I’m unqualified to assess and distressed to acknowledge, what you get are pithy observational comedy gag strips with a semi-surreal undertone about the thoughts and (mostly) inactions of an arty student who lives with an exceptionally critical but ultimately supportive rabbit. Think of it as pictorial inner monologue from a very nervous and unconfident teen, roaring and giddy with hormones and expectations she can’t possibly hope to meet and indoctrinated with standards she can’t let go of…

As well as casual interactions with her peers, major causes of cartoon comment include projections of her eventual senility and decrepitude (‘Me in the Future’), social anxiety, body issues, relationships, housework, fashion, awkwardness, bingeing and attraction through episodes with such enticing titles as ‘Nightmares for Introverts’, ‘When to Change/Wash’, ‘Things I Know’, ‘Habits of the Common Bookworm’, ‘Getting Drunk (For Beginners)’, ‘Social Media in Real Life’, ‘What I Eat on a Typical Day’, ‘5 Phrases that make My Blood Run Colder than Ice’, ‘Watching Stuff’, ‘Things that make me Feel Safe’ and ‘Benefits of Stealing Boys’ Hoodies’.

On less excoriating days you’ll share her views on ‘Normal People’ versus ‘Me’, ‘How Graduating Feels’, ‘Internet Comment Threads’, ‘Folding Laundry’, ‘The Introvert’s Brain’, ‘How to know Your Partner is Serious about the Future’, and the potential of ‘The Future’, so that’s pretty much a view on everything to deal with…

Sarah Andersen was a student at the Maryland Institute College of Art before this took over her life so she knows the value of Extra Credits. That’s why this tome includes lots of strips created specifically for the collection so if you’ve been following her on the interwebs, you’ll still miss some good stuff if you don’t get this delirious delight.
© 2016 by Sarah Andersen. All rights reserved.

Born today in 1887: cartoonist and animator Paul Terry (Mighty Mouse, Heckle and Jeckle), and DC’s ubiquitous cartoonist Henry Boltinoff in 1914. In 1944 writer/director Don Glut (The Occult Files of Dr. Spektor, Tragg and the Sky Gods, Captain America, The Invaders, Star Wars, Vampirella) appeared, as did William Messner-Loebs (Journey: The Adventures of Wolverine MacAlistaire, Wonder Woman, The Flash) in 1949, with Gerry Shamray (American Splendor) popping by in 1957.

In 2000 we lost mega-talented multi-skilled miracle worker George Roussos (Batman, Air Wave, Fantastic Four, every comic at Marvel and DC in the 1980s).

Nuts


By Gahan Wilson (Fantagraphics Books)
ISBN: 978-1-60699-454-2 (HB/Digital edition

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

Born on February 18th 1930 and dying November 21st 2019, Gahan Allen Wilson was an illustrator, cartoonist, essayist and author who always had his eyes and heart set on the future. According to Gary Groth, the artist/author grew up reading comic strips as much as fantasy fiction.

It always showed.

The mordantly macabre, acerbically wry and surreal draughtsman tickled funnybones and twanged nerves with his darkly dry graphic confections from the 1960s onwards; contributing superb spoofs, sparklingly horrific and satirically suspenseful drawings and strips and panels as a celebrated regular contributor in such major magazines as Playboy, Collier’s, The New Yorker and others. He also wrote cutting edge science fiction for Again Dangerous Visions, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, The Twilight Zone Magazine and Realms of Fantasy as well as contributing criticism, book and film reviews for them all.

In an extremely broad and long career he wore dozens of creative hats, even embracing the modern digital universe by creating – with Byron Preiss – his own supernatural computer game Gahan Wilson’s the Ultimate Haunted House.

When National Lampoon first began its devastatingly satirical (geez, do modern folk even recognize satire anymore?) all-out attack on the American Dream, Wilson was invited to contribute a regular strip to their comics section. His sublimely semi-autobiographical, darkly hilarious paean to lost childhood ran from 1972 and until 1981 and was collected as Nuts, another superb compilation from this publisher that you should own and share. Few people – me included – knew that during that period he also, apparently more for fun and relaxation than profit, produced his own syndicated Sunday strip feature. For two years – beginning on March 3rd 1974 – Gahan Wilson Sunday Comics appeared in a small cross-section of newspapers from Boston to Los Angeles and, as with all his work, it bucked a trend.

At a time when most cartoonists were seeking a daily continuity strip, building a readership and eking jokes out with sensible parsimony, Wilson let himself go hog-wild, generating a half-dozen or so single-shot gags every Sabbath, blending his signature weird, wild monsters, uncanny aliens and unsavoury scenes with straight family humour, animal crackers, topical themes and cynically socio-politically astute observations.

Looking at them here it’s clear to me that his intent was to have fun and make himself laugh as much or even more than his readership: capturing those moments when an idea or notion gave him pause to giggle whilst going about his day job…

I’m not going to waste time describing individual cartoons: there are just too many and despite being a fascinating snapshot of ancient life, they’re almost all still outrageously funny in the way and manner that Gary Larson’s Far Side was a scant six years later.

I will say that even whilst generating a storm of humorous, apparently unconnected one-offs, consummate professional Wilson couldn’t restrain himself and eventually the jokes achieved an underlying shape and tone with recurring motifs (clocks, beasts, wallpaper, etc), and features-within-the-feature such as The Creep and Future Funnies

Here, generally a single-page complete graphic epigram “star” a grotty little chubby homunculus dubbed The Kid. This fabulous monochrome (and occasionally colour) collection gathers that complete serial for collectors and potential addicts in a perfect package that readers will dip into over and over again.

Taking his lead from popular sickly-sweet strips about or starring little children and the brilliant but definitely not jejune Peanuts (which was populated, to all intents and purposes, with teeny-weeny neurotic middle-aged midgets), Wilson sought to do the exact opposite and attempt to access the fear, frustration, confusion and unalloyed joy of being a young, impressionable, powerless, curious and demanding…

… and magnificently succeeded.

Dense, claustrophobic, intense and trenchantly funny, these self-contained strips range from satire to slapstick to agonising irony, linking up over the years to form a fascinating catalogue of growing older in the USA: a fearfully faithful alternate view of childhood and most importantly, of how we adults choose to recall and process those distant days…

Each strip begins with the question “Remember how…?” or “One of the…” or some equally folksy enquiry before unveiling bafflement, bewilderment, night-terrors or a deeply-scarring embarrassment which haunts us till doomsday, all wrapped in a comradely band-of-brothers, shared-coping-mechanism whimsy that is both moving and quintessentially nostalgic.

Topics include the unremitting horror of germs; sudden death; being ill; inappropriate movies; forced visits; grandparents; things adults do that they don’t want you to see; unexplained noises; the butcher’s shop; accidents and rusty nails; things in closets; doctors and needles; dying pets; Santa Claus; seasonal disappointments; summer camp; sleep; bodily functions; school and lessons (two completely different things); fungus; bikes and toys; haircuts; comic books; deaths of relatives; hot weather; candy; overhearing things you shouldn’t; stranger danger; hobby-kits and glue; daydreaming; babies and so many other incomprehensible daily pitfalls on the treacherous path to maturity…

Peppered also with full page, hilariously annotated diagrams of such places of enduring childhood fascination as ‘The Alley’, ‘The Kit for Camp Tall Lone Tree’, ‘Mr. Schultz’s Cigar Store’, ‘The Movie Theater Seat’, ‘Table Set Up For Making Models’, ‘The Doctor’s Waiting Room’, ‘The Closet’, ‘The Sick Bed’ and ‘The Private Drawer’, this glorious procession also covers occasions of heartbreaking poignancy and those stunning, blue moon moments of serendipity and triumph when everything is oh-so-briefly perfect…

Complete with a 3-D strip and ‘Nuts to You’ – a comprehensive appreciation and history by Gary Groth – this funny, sad, chilling and sublimely true picture-passport to growing up is unmissable cartoon gold.
© Fantagraphics Books. All Nuts strips © 2011 Gahan Wilson. All rights reserved.

Today in 1917, Golden Age writer/editor Ruth Roche was born, followed by forgotten genius Joe Maneely in 1926, Gahan Wilson in 1930, Johnny Hart in 1931 and both comic book artist Doug Mahnke and cartoonist Mark Bodé in 1963.

We lost Belgian megastar and Marcinelle School founder Willy Maltaite (“Will”) in 2000 and lifelong multi-style achiever Bob Oksner in 2007.

Comics wise, UK standby Radio Fun (published since 1938) folded today in 1961 and Power Comic Fantastic launched today in 1967.