Last month was weird. Since my last Showing Off The Shelves, things avalanched. I mean, they avalanched personally, but so did my collection. Three different jobs landed in my lap, all of which can lead to a lot more. My initial acceptance letter to one of them, (before I re-drafted it) was “Wow, I’m happy to do that, but how the fuck did I trick you into saying yes?”
I’m going to start this post off by giving a special thanks to The Nostalgia Zone, the comic book store I frequent most (this is not the mob store I have mentioned in other posts, if you go in there to ask a question the owner won’t say “Who’s asking?”). Thanks to them, I was able to find some remarkable deals. Some of them were things I’d been looking for already, some of them on the edge of my radar, and one big ticket item that I never thought I’d get my hands on.
As it happens, they were having a sale on Groundhog Day. I know I said Don Rosa in Review was in hibernation, but while I won’t be digging into the story in that article, I will discuss what I found: The Don Rosa Artist’s Edition.
I have an odd relationship with my trade paperback collection. It often grows faster than I can read, I have no illusions about that. There are numerous great deals out there if you know where to look, and after years of collecting I know where to look. It spans from 1924 to 2017, though the New Year means that I technically have nothing current. Yet. But for a long time, I have been bothered by my inability to feel comfortable as a collector and reader in relation to other fans. To use a term I hate, I felt as though I was not connected with the zeitgeist, that the works I loved were not in step with the material so many adore.
But I have fifteen trades in the mail this month, covering a wide range of times and styles. Spanning from Mickey Mouse’s newspaper strips from the 50s, the creator-owned Sirens from George Perez, 90s comics with Superboy and Robin, X-Men Classic, the first run of Michelinie and Layton’s Iron Man, New Teen Titans, the 1989 printing of Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Knights of the Dinner Table, all the way to DuckTales… and it occurred to me as I wrote this that I can’t be the only person reading these. Maybe the people who are reading them aren’t talking about it as much, maybe they’re in circles I don’t travel in, I don’t know. But if I’m to review things I love, I have to be comfortable with what I love – and what I do not. There is a presumption of inexperience in not appreciating a nebulous canon, a strange form of elitism perpetuated to allow for ‘true fans’ – gatekeepers even amongst ourselves, when what I care about is opening the medium up to as many people as possible.
News of Brian Michael Bendis signing an exclusive contract with DC had me thinking about Ultimate Spider-Man, arguably the best thing he’s ever written. The voice of the series is singular and unique, and the consistency of Peter Parker’s characterization and writing makes him a lot more like Jack Knight than the original Spider-Man. As part of a separate continuity (which I would explain to a layman as ‘Like how the movies aren’t the same as the comics’) known as the Ultimate Universe, it’s also incredibly accessible to new readers. So when I was at a used book store talking to a guy who wanted to start reading comics, I recommended a copy of Volume 1 – Power and Responsibility without hesitation.
And my appreciation is precisely why it is so frustrating to deal with the way that Marvel has collected this series. Not just for me, but for the potential millions of readers for whom picking up the title is a horrific amount of work. That might seem dramatic, but one sentence alone can illustrate where prospective (and experienced) fans can and will get stuck:
This column has been in the works for awhile. It was originally intended to be a lighthearted thing, a regular Showing off the Shelves. But much like writing as a whole, like life as a whole, it has been difficult in recent months due to the sudden passing of my dad. I’m dealing with that now, as much and as well as a person ever really can – but I wanted to share a piece of what and why I collect, because it is perhaps the most enduring part of what he left me. Perhaps letting this out raw and unrefined is for the better.
I’ve often described myself as a second-generation nerd. My mom collected Star Trek fanzines and novels, and was annoyed by the 2009 reboot of the series for failing to take the EU in to account (my delight in watching her act like I do when I’m annoyed by something nerdy was also what had me start watching TOS in earnest). My dad, however, was the first person to tell me that a season of television was bad – the third season of Trek, to be precise, and the budgetary issues that caused it. It was the first time I was aware that television had seasons, and would set the stage for my interest in the behind-the-scenes aspect of television. Not for the sake of knowing, but to better understand the art form that would spur me to become a writer. I am, at heart, someone who will always enjoy serial media more than a standalone piece, and it is comics and television that made it so.
So… there were some delays since my last Don Rosa in Review came out! I’m sorry about that. You can thank Dr. GeoX for inspiring me to put out this little birthday present to myself. I had waited for two Don Rosa books to come out to allow me to better discuss the material in relationship to his development as an artist, one being the Fantagraphics release, the other being the third volume of the Don Rosa Classics. I’m not holding my breath on that last one coming out any time soon, more’s the pity, but I do have the Fantagraphics releases. With them, I finally, finally have an opportunity to go through Don Rosa’s Duck stories the way I had intended!
Well. Except for one. Return to Duckburg Place was written in 1970 with Ray Foushee, who also collaborated on ‘a handful of [Pertwillaby Papers] episodes’, and is technically the first Disney Duck comic Rosa ever worked on. I say technically because it was produced as an underground comic, starts with Huey Dewey and Louie smoking pot, and actually gets more messed up from there. While this comic was published in European territories as part of various Don Rosa collections, the more uptight Disney of America wouldn’t allow publication of this story in the Don Rosa Library. I was fortunate enough to find a copy from an acquaintance to work with for this column. Funny what happens when Disney tells him not to publish things he worked on that fans want to read: somehow, it gets out there anyway.
This is one of only three Duck comics he did in black and white, all of which were unofficial productions. This is why you see Zip-A-Tone on most of the characters, later used to remarkable effect on The Pertwillaby Papers and Captain Kentucky. It is also easily the darkest thing he’s ever done, outdoing even his “Casper the Dead Baby” jokes made during conventions and interviews.
I really, really hope he’s joking. It makes sense the more you think about it, just look at that head… but anyway. I couldn’t think of a better way to return to Don Rosa in Review than this, with Return to Duckburg Place.
Summary: Don Rosa holds nothing back in a dark, satirical, amateur production that slams the Disney Duck world and its characters, and I laugh hysterically at the thought of this same guy being most well known for his heart wrenching, brilliant stories that thrive on extreme pathos. Everyone has a dark side, and this is definitely his.
Darkwing Duck – The Definitively Dangerous Edition is an odd duck, to say the least. Collecting the 2010-2011 BOOM! comic book series, at first blush it commits cardinal sins against how trade paperbacks should be collected. The seventeen issue collection has been given the Lucas-esque Special Edition treatment, with new dialogue, art and lettering. The final four issue story arc, “Dangerous Currency”, wasn’t reprinted. In any other situation, I’d be yelling “Off with their heads!”
But I’m not.
That’s because the new collection wasn’t treated like Star Wars, with a lack of respect or understanding of the source material that was hacked apart by a dictatorial lunatic. It’s been treated like Blade Runner, where the omnibus fixed the problems that were imposed upon the original series by outside circumstances, and turned the mixed bag of the original in to something truly great. But to understand why that happened at all, we have to discuss the issue of credit.
Aaron Sparrow is credited as the sole writer on the omnibus, though Ian Brill is credited as writer for the original series. According to Sparrow, as well as Darkwing artist James Silvani, he and Silvani ghostwrote rewrites of the series even after Sparrow was fired from his position as editor, and BOOM! as a whole. Brill insists that he was the sole writer for the comic and that Sparrow’s input was limited to the first three issues. When word of the rewrite came out for the omnibus he asked for his name to be removed from the book (as well as Sparrow’s replacement editor, Christopher Burns). The request was honored, which was a shame as it seems they were both responsible for the structure, if not the plots, of a fair amount of the book.
But I’m moving forward with the assumption that Sparrow and Silvani’s assertions are truthful, and clearly so are the people at Joe Books. While there are a number of reasons to believe it and numerous claims have been made on both sides, I only needed one fact to convince me: An examination of the rewrites shows a tone consistent with the first three issues which originally credited Sparrow as editor. There’s a greater focus on distinctive character voices, stronger comic timing, and more of an effort to have an identity that matched the TV show, rather than just a “funny superhero book.” While I enjoyed the original run, and adore Silvani’s art, there is no doubt in my mind that this is the definitive version of this series, and that it is Sparrow’s vision in the omnibus. Mostly.
Which brings us to the stories themselves. They comprise the first four story arcs and the annual, forming an overarcing story about the character of Drake Mallard, aka Darkwing Duck, and the point of taking up the mantle of the terror that flaps in the night.
I’m going to go over each story arc, then discuss the book as a whole.
Comics have been a part of my life since I was young. I learned the proper way to read a Silver Age comic book (soap, hot water, dry your hands, find a clean space, don’t bend the cover back, dog-ear nothing, the grading system works like this and I only want you handling Fine Minus or less, and here’s how we keep reversible tape from getting on the cover…), I learned how to follow an ongoing plot from “Sonic the Hedgehog”, I learned what the concept of sarcasm was from “Garfield”, and that’s all before the age of eight.
The 90s weren’t a kind time for comics aimed at kids, at least not with the superhero material I liked to read. I busied myself with the DC and Marvel’s animated projects, anime, and my passion for television, but comics were always important to me. Discovering “Calvin and Hobbes” from trade paperbacks at a relative’s house was like drinking clean water for the first time.
But getting back in to comics over the last five years has been a godsend for me as a reader and a person, and a big part of why I’ve been able to do that is thanks to being pushed towards Disney comics. The stories and artists that I enjoyed most from Disney were collected in trade paperbacks, which were easier to find than scouring garage sales, conventions, eBay and Craigslist for back issues (though I do that too: I’m looking at you, Gladstone’s Disney comics. See you at FallCon!) When reading the forwards/making of sections, I could see the where the influence of specific writers and artists that I admired came from, and in turn, who they influenced.
Add to that my own love for superheroes, an impulse purchase or two, and the recommendations of friends, my collection grew from a Christmas present of “Batman: Year One” and a few “Knights of the Dinner Table” trades (not pictured, as the now 50+ volume collection is current stored in a box), to something that has my shelves bending from the weight. I’ve had more fun going back in to comics than I have with… well, just about anything I’ve done the past few years.
I’d like to share the five shelves of books I’ve managed to get a hold of as of 09/15/14, with the arrival of the last volumes of “Dragon Ball”, the first four “Knuckles the Echidna Archives”, and the Palmiotti/Conner run of “Power Girl.”
Naturally, this doesn’t properly represent the size of the books in question, as they’ve been pushed flush with the edge of the shelf for this post.
The disparate sizes in printing for newspaper comics astounds me: “Wednesday Comics” (not pictured above because it doesn’t even fit on the shelf) is my tallest vertical format book, while “Terry and the Pirates by George Wunder Volume One” is the largest horizontal format that I own. The source material being drawn and printed in a different size has a lot to do with it, but it’s just how different they are that baffles me. Just take a look:
The oversized editions of comic books, which you can see with the Absolute Edition of “Crisis on Infinite Earths” up above, are generally what I shoot for when I shop. They tend to have the most bonus materials, and allow you to see the detail of the art much more clearly – especially with someone as wonderful as Perez.
Incidentally, if you ever need a pick-me up, try and explain the plot to Crisis on Infinite Earths in depth to someone who has never read comics. Just watch their expression and you’ll get a real clear picture about why DC and Marvel have trouble finding new readers… and a good laugh in the process.
I am probably the bane of publishers when it comes to my shopping habits – bargains, deals and sales are what I shoot for virtually without exception, and since I’m on a budget, Amazon is my go-to for purchases. But if you’re willing to dig and be patient, you can find even better deals in person. I was able to obtain ten volumes of the out of print “The Spirit Archives” for 15 dollars apiece, so long as I bought them on the spot. It was Eisner’s post-war work and the books were in top-notch condition. How could I say no? (Mostly by ignoring the screams of my wallet)
But this brings me to a less rhetorical question. I have waited for the Fantagraphics Don Rosa box set before I continue Don Rosa in Review, so things have stalled a bit on that front until its publication. So looking at this collection, do you have a particular thought as to what I should take a look at in the meantime? Kindly leave a comment and let me know, and I’ll make that a priority.
And of course, any suggestions as to comics I should pick up are GREATLY appreciated! I know no matter how many comics I read, there will always be more to enjoy, but that’s half the fun.