The Comic Book Men

In 1938, a new kind of hero graced the cover of the very first issue of Action Comics. Grinning while holding a car over his head while gangsters fled in terror, Superman made his entry into the public imagination. Between the covers was a tale of wild and frantic fantasy, about a babe launched from a dying planet to live on Earth, with powers far beyond those of mortal men, and who used his powers to see that justice was done, when the long arm of the law wasn’t up to the job. And who dressed in a bizarre and outlandish (and very loud) costume while he did it, to preserve his “secret identity”. And with that pop-culture changed to accommodate the birth of a new figure – the superhero.

The history of the comics industry – when and where heroes were created, how their adventures changed over time, how Frederic Wertham nearly spelled the end of the comic book – has been obsessed over by comic fandom for decades, and examined in minute detail. So has the story of individual creators – the career of this artist or that writer, the influence of Jack Kirby on the portrayal of action on the page. But Gerard Jones’ Men of Tomorrow is more than this – it’s the story of how the personalities and the comics and the business itself changed together over the years, while always staying true to its core. It’s about the geeks and the suits, and the art.

It’s about the whole comic book industry, and the personalities involved in its creation and subsequent evolution – such names as Harry Donenfeld, Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, Jack Kirby, Bob Kane, and a host of others. It shows how deeply the roots of comic books intertwine with science-fiction and the pulps – and how the very notion of pop-culture fandom emerged from the geek culture of the early twentieth century.

Jones’ narrative spans the whole of the twentieth century and more, but at the heart of it all is the story of four Jewish kids who grew up dirt-poor, but went on to do big things: Harry Donenfeld, the little hustler who was a gangster, a publisher, and just a general all-around goo-time guy, and who founded National Comics; Jack Liebowitz, whose ruthless business sense would eventually take him and his company to the heights of corporate power; and Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, whose wild imagination created a new genre. All four of these men saw themselves as the true creator of the Man of Steel, and the father of the superhero – and all of them were right, in their own way.

There are a million little tidits and anecdotes of comic books and the men (that’s right, men – the industry was a boys’ club in the early days, and transformation has been far too slow; but that’s not to say that the women in their lives weren’t making an impression on the way things were done in less direct ways) who created them.

For example, did you know that Siegel and Shuster, who would shortly go on to create that Man of Steel that so changed the comics industry, released one of the very first sci-fi fan magazines, called Science Fiction, while still in their teens? That Mort Weisinger and Julie Schwartz were the very first science fiction agents – two hustling kids who used their fan/geek connections to professionalize a nascent industry? That Mickey Spillane’s pulp paperback novel I, the Jury was originally meant to be a comic book, and that he transformed it into a novel over the course of nine days?

Fascinating stuff – and there’s so much more of that kind of thing in this book that the mind boggles. Combine that with Jones’ smooth and clear writing style – engaging and friendly, but erudite, and you’ve got a clear winner between these covers.

So to summarize: It’s a tale of geeks and gangsters and Jewish immigrants set against the backdrop of Prohibition, Depression, McCarthyism, and good old-fashioned shady business dealings, written by Gerard Jones, who used to be one of my favourite comics scribes himself, and who’s now one of the greatest comic book historians around. (And that, my friends, is simply one of the most awesome jobs ever.)

It is, in other words, really good stuff – the stuff fanboy (and girl) dreams are made of.