A few stragglers to the PPC's previous segment on symbolic splash pages of Marvel's early years now come to light, again focusing on those "double/triple feature" books published from the early 1960s to the mid-1970s but this time taking a look at the work of artists Jack Kirby, Dick Ayers, Don Heck, Chic Stone, and Joe Sinnott, in pages from Journey Into Mystery, Tales To Astonish, and those issues of Strange Tales before Nick Fury and Doctor Strange elbowed out the book's previous headliner, the Human Torch.
Such splash pages in the Mighty Thor series, which picked up where Journey Into Mystery left off, were practically nonexistent, with Kirby veering away from symbolic association and instead using the title page to lead directly into the main story--which makes these pages something of a rarity where the God of Thunder is concerned. One thing that wasn't rare in either title, however, was the presence of Loki, Thor's evil half-brother, who shared Page One with the Thunder God so often that it's no wonder he practically received billing of his own.
"Without his magic hammer, mighty Thor is as bereft of power as mighty Samson without his hair!" Hopefully that passage came across to readers as a reference by scripter Robert Bernstein to either (a) Thor becoming Donald Blake after sixty seconds of being without his hammer, which we knew going in, or (b) the man was simply engaging in hyperbole, since it's unlikely that anyone would want to read about a god who, if we're to believe Loki, is completely helpless without a weapon in his hand.
The hammer continues to come into play in succeeding issues, particularly when the Radio-Active Man is introduced as the one foe (well, one of many, as it turned out) who can shrug off the impact of Thor's hammer. Even the street crowds are quick to throw in the towel after seeing the display--after all, this is "Thor, Protector of Democracy!" we're talking about.
Admittedly, Thor stands out from the pack precisely because of his hammer and its "magic" properties--and while we've seen that he doesn't need it to summon the storm, its emissions on the spur of the moment have proven effective in countering the bizarre powers of many a foe. Without it, Thor would be merely a strong, landbound, boastful caped character with a winged helmet who professed to be a god of legend in the manner of his Ultimates counterpart.
Regardless, even when his true foe is off-panel somewhere, Thor seems to be adept at scattering crowds all by his lonesome, hammer or no hammer.
I think it may have been Iron Man who once remarked on Thor's "little croquet mallet," which is an apt description considering its resemblance to the real McCoy and what we're seeing here in regard to the length of its handle and the narrow dimensions of its head. In time that would be remedied (Roy Thomas's protestations notwithstanding)--but in these early tales its size would continue to draw attention to the fact that it doesn't appear as an effective (or, equally important, dramatic) weapon to be wielded, either in close quarters or hurled.
On a separate note, it looks like we're seeing here the beginnings of Stan Lee writing wit-filled asides for those talents listed in the credits--a wonderful addition that also served to give the reader a sense of anticipation for a story from Marvel Comics.
With all due respect to Jack Kirby, there's no possibility at all--at all, sir--that Thor would be able to swing his hammer behind his back in the pose that he's striking, even if acting on the will of Zarrko. I doubt even the Cobra could pull that off.
Over in Strange Tales, the Human Torch is running the show outside of the auspices of his famous partners--yet he's the first of them to have exposure to what would become charter members of the Frightful Four.
No doubt you're chomping at the bit to see the PPC give the lowdown on our other choices for the Torch, Wilhelm van Vile and the Sorcerer--but at least Orson Kasloff, better known as the Asbestos Man, is ready and waiting to be revisited in his profile posted nine years ago. (How time flies.)
The pages of Tales To Astonish provided a little more--and, literally, a little less--when it came to adventure, when taking into account the size-changing abilities of the astonishing Ant-Man, a visible difference in perspective which both Kirby and Heck assumedly took delight in when rendering their symbolic splash pages.
"Yikes, look out, Ant-Man, he's armed with a bellow!" you can almost hear a reader exclaiming (in jest). How does Henry Pym embellish his adventures as Ant-Man to anybody in a way that doesn't have them wondering why he didn't just zip up to normal size and snatch the thing out of his foe's hand? Unfortunately, things happen as you might expect, though Ant-Man rallies in the end and outfoxes even Egghead--nor does the Scarlet Beetle have any better luck.
While Ant-Man might have been a tough read for those of us who caught up with those stories after reading more sophisticated tales (well, for the most part) during the late '70s and into the '80s, those splash pages did their part in selling a tale that may not have lived up to expectations.
Our intriguingly masked friend in the first story turns out to be merely a hijacker who raids the vehicles of his own armored car company; the gent in the top hat is Jason Cragg, the Voice of Doom; and "The Creature from Kosmos!" from mid-1963 marks the first appearance of the wonderful Wasp, with the creature being responsible for the death of her father.
In this final set of pages, there are a lot of eyes indeed on our heroes (along with a few blaring musical notes).
As we see, this time Egghead has brought along an anteater to give him an edge after setting a trap for Ant-Man by taking Sue Storm the Wasp hostage. As for our other two menaces, like yourselves I'm eager to not only learn how and why Ant-Man finds himself up against a Cyclops, but also how and why a jazz trumpeter uses his mesmerizing instrument to bring "a whole city under his control" in order to "loot the world" (whoops, I guess we have our answer to that one).
6 comments:
You can buy drinking glasses shaped like Thor's hammer.
Say, uh...whatever did happen to the Asbestos Man?
Is he, um, okay?
Doing well? No problems?
I'm just concerned, is all.
M.P.
"Symbolic splash pages" serves the same function as covers - they are there to sell the story. However, in both single story issues (Ditko utilized a lot of symbolic splash pages in ASM) and dual story issues (like many Marvel split books), most people who view them have already bought the comic. So they really don't serve the same purpose. It is just a wasted page. So I am not surprised that eventually writers and artists learned it was better to use them to introduce the story instead of just advertising them.
Chris
Well, M.P., more hardened super-criminals with longer rap sheets than the Asbestos Man have managed to shorten their prison stays, so chances are with good behavior he was out in a couple of years and staying out of trouble since. He was pretty proficient in the R&D department, so he was likely able to make a living and leave his ambitions of quick payoffs behind him.
Chris, I'm not so sure those pages were wasted. Comics browsers often don't usually depend on a cover, but tend to flip open a book to get a brief look at the inside--so a splash page that builds on what the cover has done to catch someone's attention and gives someone an idea of what the story entails may seal the deal for the buyer.
Asbestos Man? Well, by coincidence, I read a recent-ish comic that mentioned that fellow.
Marvels Snapshot #1 (2020), which featured the Human Torch. The story revolves around the Torch going to Glenville, Long Island where he and Sue grew up. His purpose is to attend his 10th High School Reunion.
A reporter (with a camera man) are covering this event. They interview Dorrie Evans, who then guides them to various places around Glenville that are Torch-related. One stop is at the home of Professor Kasloff aka Asbestos Man. The man is not in good shape, whether due to age or asbestos poisoning or both. Bull Brogin ("Terrible Trio") is Kasloff's caregiver.
The Professor regrets this villain phase of his life. He can't believe he challenged a sixteen-year old kid to battle.
He also lives in a run-down little house in Glenville's seedier area. It is revealed later in the tale that Johnny sends him cheques on the sly to supplement Kasloff's income.
It's really a marvellous comic. Kurt Busiek "curated" this series of "Snapshots", and that might explain this great story at how normal people get along in light of their association with a world-famous superhero.
What a cool follow-up with the character. (Though I have to wonder how Brogin and Kasloff crossed paths. (Perhaps in a cell block?))
Post a Comment