COMICS, OLD-TIME RADIO and OTHER COOL STUFF: Random Thoughts about pre-digital Pop Culture, covering subjects such as pulp fiction, B-movies, comic strips, comic books and old-time radio. WRITTEN BY TIM DEFOREST. EDITED BY MELVIN THE VELOCIRAPTOR. New content published every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday & Friday.
A couple of weeks ago, we talked about the 1960s cartoon version of Hercules. I thought it might be fun to look at the two Gold Key issues adapting that cartoon to the comics. Each issue had two Hercules stories, so we'll be with the demigod for the next four weeks.
The Mighty Hercules #1 (July 1963) starts with "The Curse of the Stone Statues," written by the prolific Paul S. Newman and drawn by an uncredited artist who does a good job of emulating the look of the cartoon.
Hercules' gal, Helena, is visiting the palace of Prince Dorian, only to discover the building is full of stone statues. Apparently, Helena needs to read up on Greek Mythology--it doesn't at first occur to her that the statues are people turned into stone.
She calls for Hercules, who comes down from Olympus to investigate. Herc, at least, realizes that evil is afoot and that the statues are people. But the person responsible is not a Gorgon, but the evil wizard Daedalus, Herc's arch-enemy. He's zapped the local humans to draw Hercules into an ambush, with plans on using his "Sceptor of Medusa" on the hero, then taking over the kingdom.
Newton the centaur spoils Daedalus' aim, but Helena gets statue-fied by the stray shot. Daedalus uses a cloak of invisibility to get away, but loses the sceptor. Hercules destroys this, but must now find the Flower of Life in order to restore Helena and the other victims to life.
This involves a sea voyage to a remote island. A sea witch allied with Daedalus puts obstacles in the way, but Hercules fights past them all. (This includes the surprisingly violent killing of a sea monster--a scene that's a bit edgy for a Gold Key comic based on a kid's cartoon.)
Hercules gets the flower. Daedelus tries one last time to defeat the hero, this time using his invisibility cloak and a Sword of Death. (I feel like I should be putting the TM symbol after the name for all the magical devices Daedalus uses in this story.) Hercules defeats him again, turns the statues back into people and saves the day.
It's a short, entertaining tale, constructed with Newman's usual skill at storytelling. Just like the cartoon on which its based, it jumps into the story quickly, gives Hercules some dangers to deal with using both his strength and his brains, then barrels quickly to a conclusion. The art, as I mentioned, effectively matches the design of the cartoon. With the script and art firmly in sync with one another, the story is more fun than a barrel of Gorgons.
The May 1934 issue of Weird Tales is justly remembered as containing Queen of the Black Coast, one of Robert E. Howard's most important Conan tales.
But there are other gems within. Clark Ashton Smith, for instance, contributed a story from his Zothique cycle: "The Tomb-Spawn."
Smith had several story cycles going during his career. The Averoigne tales were set in a fictional province in Medieval France. The Hyperborea stories were set during a pre-Ice Age civilization, full of sorcery and cosmic dread, similar to Howard's Hyborian Age in its setting.
The Zothique stories are also filled with sorcery and cosmic dread, but are set in the far future. Technological civilizationis long-gone and forgotten, replaced by magic. The Elder gods have returned. The sun is red and dying. Zothique is the last surviving continent. That last continent has a history of its own probably at least as long as contemporary mankind does now, but it still represents humanity's last gasp.
"The Tomb-Spawn," like many of these far-future tales, has Death looking over your shoulder pretty much the entire time you are reading it. Two travelers, Milab and Marabac, here a tale about an ancient sorcerer-king named Ossaru, who keeps an alien being called Nioth-Korghai in a chamber beneath his palace.
(Smith was influenced by Greek mythology in his Hyperborea tales, but there might be a bit of influence here as well, as this set-up--though not the rest of the story--reminds me slightly of the myth of Minos and the Minotaur.)
The creature was Ossaru's advisor and aide, but eventually dies from unknown causes. Later, when Ossaru also dies, he has arranged for his mummy to be lowered into the same chamber that houses the body of Nioth-Korghai is entombed, with both corpses protected by magical wards.
Millennia go by and no one now remembers where Ossaru's capital was located. But when Milab and Marabac are ambushed in the desert by cannibalistic humanoid creatures, then stumble across the ruins of that city while fleeing. In search of water, they end up in the tomb, where they find...
Well, see for yourself what they find. You can read the story online HERE. I was reminded of the story when it was featured on the excellent HorrorBabble podcast recently, so you can also listen to it being read there:
Adventures into Darkness #5 (August 1952) was the first of ten issues in that series. Often that means that it took over the numbering of another comic book after that first comic's cancellation. But in this case, the first issue was simply designated #5. It was a practice at Standard Comics to start at least some of their titles with #5, under the belief that a comic would sell better if it looked like it had been around for awhile. (A few other publishers used the same tactic.)
Numbering shenanigans aside, Adventures into Darkness is a fine example of atmospheric horror stories that would soon be sent into Comic Book Limbo by the Comics Code. One of the stories, for instance, is "Death Follows Orders," written by an uncredited writer and drawn by Jerry Grandenetti.
It's a five-pager that sets up its premise and tells its story quickly and skillfully. A French farmer and his daughter are digging a new well when they stumble across an old cellar full of dead Nazi soldiers. The men had apparently been trapped their during the war.
The officer is holding written orders and, now that the dead men are "free," they decide to follow those orders. They then march off to the nearby village to take it over. Violence follows--the Nazis might be dead, but their weapons still work.
The farmer tries to stop them, but is overwhelmed and told he'll be shot. But the daughter has noticed the Nazis are fearful of fire and guesses why. She snatches the written orders out of the Nazi officer's pocket. Her dad manages to set fire to those orders. Once the orders vanish, the Nazis collapse. They are now permanently dead.
It's an effective little story, keying off the fanatisim of hard-core Nazis, but still highlighting the heroism of those who oppose them. Grandenetti's art is effective and atmospheric.
For January's Cover Cavalcade, I had declared that month to be HERCULES MONTH and featured comic book covers showing versions of the demi-god as imagined by various comic book companies.
One of those covers was one of two Gold Key comics featuring stories based on the Saturday morning cartoon The Mighty Hercules, which ran in syndication from 1963 to 1966. Jimmy Tapp, a Canadian broadcaster, was the voice of Hercules through most of its run. The cartoon consisted of concise 5-minute adventures, running in 30 minute blocks.
I remembered at least occasionally watching it when I was a little one, though my only strong memory is of Newton, Hercules' centaur sidekick with an annoyingly high-pitched voice. But I didn't remember enjoying it and, when that comic book cover reminded me of the cartoon, I watched a few on YouTube. They really are fun.
With just five minutes to tell a story, the cartoon wastes no time. For instance, "Wings of Mercury" starts with Newton and the Greek Hero Theseus sitting together in a field. A giant bird (one of the Stymphalian birds) swoops down and snatches the Wings of Mercury that Theseus was carrying.
Hercules arrives and says glad to get the wings back for a hero like Theseus. Newton asks about Theseus' heroism, so Hercules explains. This sends the cartoon into a flashback, in which Zeus gives Theseus the wings so that he can quickly reach Cyprus and defeat an evil statue that is essentially firing a barrage of laser beams at everything.
Theseus defeats the statue, but now he's lost the wings. Hercules uses his ring to activate his super-strength (a feature of this version of the demi-god) and gives the bird what-for. The Wings of Mercury are recovered and everyone (well, except the evil statue and the bird) is happy.
It is indeed fun. The animation is limited but imaginative and and stories gallop through their five minutes with unironic charm and fun. I am, of course, a little annoyed at the mixing of Greek and Latin names. I get that Hercules (the Latin version of the name) is too ingrained in our culture to ever allow Heracles, but if its ZEUS on the throne of Olympus, then the wings should have been the Wings of Hermes. Oh, well. The cartoon does deserve credit for using a "Stymphalian Bird" rather than a generic monster to snatch the Wings.
In a few weeks, we'll begin a look at the Gold Key comic book version of the Mighty Hercules.
From 1971 until 1974 (issues 88 through 110, with a few issues being skipped within that run), Charlton's Billy the Kid included a back-up feature titled "Mr. Young of the Boothill Gazette," with art and scripts by Pat Boyette. The premise is a fun one--in 1875, a young greenhorn from back East comes to the town of Boothill, Texas to work as a reporter. His editor mostly puts him to work sweeping the floor, while printing innocuous articles about Ladies' Aid Society. There's a lot of lawlessness in Boothill, but the editor (Maxwell Cosswell) doesn't want to rock the boat. Or get shot.
But his new reporter, Abel Young, is full of ambition and a firm sense of right and wrong. By golly, he'll confront evil whereever he finds it--despite the fact that he's completely hopeless in a fight.
In Billy the Kid #89 (February 1972), Abel learns that a gunman named Fife Anson is planning on killed a gambler named Burley Meade. When Abel objects to this, Anson throws him into an open grave. Though terrified, Abel still wants to stop the murder.
He confronts Anson again in a saloon, but that simply gets him punched and thrown out the back door. Meade is coming in that way with the intent of back-shooting Anson. Desperate, Abel conks Meade over the head with a bucket. Then, when it looks like Anson is going to shoot HIM, Abel even more desperately attacks him and manages to knock him out.
When Meades starts to regain consciousness, Abel knocks him out again as well, saving himself with a pair of last-resort lucky punches. The two gunmen are arrested by the sheriff and peace is temporarily restored to Boothill.
Boyette does some fun panel design during Abel's two-page confrontation with the bad guys, laying them out in a diagnal pattern that emphasizes the action quite nicely. Abel comes across as a bit self-righteous at times, but he is of course correct in objecting to murder and the self-righteousness can be an aspect of his naivety. He's an interesting character and we might return to Boothill again to see what he's been up to.
Next week, we'll discover that even dead Nazis will continue to follow orders..
I've written three books and a number of short ebooks about old-time radio, pulp magazines, classic comic strips, and Christian theology. You can find a link to my Amazon author's page below.
Magazine articles I've written cover subjects on military history and the American West. I teach several Bible studies at my church, assist with the children's ministry and have been on short-term mission trips to South Sudan, Haiti, Guatemala, Nepal and Turkey.
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