The god of Tuesday hates gropey cephalopods

By Tim Hamilton.

Superman at sea

Action Comics #15 (by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster) is a thoroughly ridiculous story in which Clark Kent goes after sunken treasure to help a children's charity that's struggling. Rather than use his powers to retrieve the loot, he goes to the trouble of renting a boat and diving equipment, giving a gang of criminals the opportunity to replace his crew. The rest of the crooks' plan has them easily steal a Navy sub and use it to dispatch more men to try to take the treasure from Clark. It's extremely dumb and incredibly convoluted.

But at least Superman fights some sharks.

Tarzan 101 | Tarzan the Collectible

Celebrating Tarzan's 101st anniversary by walking through Scott Tracy Griffin's Tarzan: The Centennial Celebration.

One of the things that's struck me most in Griffin's book is learning what an impressive businessman Burroughs was. As Griffin points out, a lot of people think of the Davy Crockett coonskin cap fad in the '50s as the birth of heavy licensing and merchandising, but the phenomenon predates that by a couple or three decades. Superman was a notable example, but the strategies implemented for that craze were developed by Stephen Slesinger while under contract to Burroughs.

For a while, Burroughs didn't mind people making money off Tarzan without paying him. He was flattered and even produced Tarzan manuscripts on unlicensed Tarzan paper. As the trend continued though, he began to be concerned about the dilution of the brand.

One example of that was Hollywood cowboy star Ken Maynard, who requested permission to name his horse Tarzan. Burroughs granted it, but grew annoyed when MGM began using the horse's name in movie and serial titles.



The first official licensed Tarzan product was a 1922 stuffed monkey that was produced by Davis & Voetsch, a toy company in New York. Sadly, I couldn't find a photo of the doll, but the picture at the top of this post is from a 1932 promotion for the Tarzan of the Apes radio show. Three different sponsors distributed over 400,000 of the clay figurines manufactured by the Gem Clay Forming Company.

The photo of the clay figures came from a cool Tarzan Appreciation thread on the Universal Monster Army message board, and there are a lot more awesome toys and collectibles to be seen there. Another great gallery of Tarzan merchandise can be found on the Plaid Stallions site.

One of my favorite pieces (not that I own it) is this 1939 board game by Parker Brothers with art by Burroughs' son, John Coleman Burroughs. The pictures come from the Flickr photostream of someone named Morbius19.





I sucked at models as a kid, so I never owned this one either, but Aurora models were ubiquitous in the late '60s and early '70s and I certainly remember seeing this one around.



Someone on the Gear Page forum demonstrated how cool it could look completed (and added an awesome customization that you can see in the link).



Speaking of models, Tarzan was also licensed to sell models that weren't even related to him, as my pal Sleestak reminds us with this ad:



In fact, Tarzan's name has been licensed for all sorts of things that aren't directly about him. From this Japanese fitness magazine...



...to Australian glue.



Griffin's book of course has many, many more examples and photos. Curious if anyone reading this has favorite pieces of Tarzan merchandise, whether you actually own it or would just like to.

Tarzan 101 | Edgar Rice Burroughs' Bookplate and Doodad

Celebrating Tarzan's 101st anniversary by walking through Scott Tracy Griffin's Tarzan: The Centennial Celebration.

Beneath the dust jacket of Griffin's book is a red hardcover emblazoned with a blue sigil, sort of like a stylized "T" that's been turned into a sword or spear. I first assumed that it stood for Tarzan, but apparently not. No one seems to know exactly what the "doodad" (as Burroughs called it) represents, but the author created it while scribbling in the sand on a family fishing trip in 1924. He and his sons each had their own variations with the circle appearing in different places in relation to the central "spear." That way that they could leave signs to each other during outdoor expeditions to indicate which direction they'd travelled.

Eventually ERB's version ended up on the spines of his novels published by ERB, Inc. and he even put it on the tail of his private airplane, also named Doodad.

Less mysterious is the iconography behind this customized bookplate that artist Studley Burroughs created for his uncle:



Studley explained the design in a letter (which Griffin reprints): Tarzan's there, of course, holding up Mars (identified by its two moons). Behind him are representations of other Burroughs characters and at Tarzan's feet are a crossed pen and sword, representing Burroughs' love for writing and the military. The heraldic shield is divided into four sections, each representing a different part of Burroughs' life: his time in the Calvary, his life in the American West, his return to the civilized East, and finally his literary career.

Superman's first archnemesis, the Ultra-Humanite

In Action Comics #14 (by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster), Superman investigates what he (and the reader) thinks is a simple case of a construction company's using inferior materials. But when he's chasing some bad guys and their car disappears into thin air, he realizes that there's more to it.

Sure enough, the Ultra-Humanite has returned, having escaped death after his encounter with Superman in the previous issue. The Man of Steel is able to shut down the villain's current operation, but Ultra-Humanite escapes again and the issue ends in two panels that show each man worrying and planning about how to defeat his enemy.

Clearly Siegel and Shuster were planning for Ultra-Humanite to become Superman's official archnemesis. I'm curious to see how he'd become supplanted by a different bald scientist.

 

What makes Joker tick?

This probably isn't a new revelation to many people, but one thing that struck me about the Joker in his first appearance in Batman #1 is how much he craves attention. I love that panel from the first story where he talks about fooling the police and how he'd like "to shout the answer into their stupid faces." His M.O. that whole story is to announce to the public that he's going to commit a crime (usually a combination of murder and theft) and then pull it off in a way that no one can stop him.

In the fourth and final story in Batman #1 (again by Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson), the Joker escapes prison after only two days there and picks up right where he left off. He declares that he wants to "let all know" that he's "still in the game and is still high card." It's not enough to commit the crimes and get away with it; he also has to rub it in the public's face.

This seems core to who Joker is. A good Joker story will always have an element of panache to it, because the Joker isn't an agent of chaos (a relatively recent interpretation) so much as he is an agent of showing off.

Marada the She-Wolf hates cephalopods

[Via The Beat]

I'm heading into a really busy weekend and I'm already behind, so I probably won't have much to post over the next couple of days. Just so's you know.

It wasn't Robin who changed Batman

In addition to Batman's letting the Cat go in the third story in Batman #1, something else weird happened. While fighting a second gang of jewel thieves, Batman pauses to make the strange statement above. It's odd because he's alone on a boat with just the crooks and Robin.

Obviously, Batman's breaking the fourth wall here and he does it even more directly after Robin wipes the floor with the bad guys.



I thought that was interesting, but not as much as the Bat/Cat relationship, so I wasn't going to mention it until I got to the fourth and final story in Batman #1 (again by Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson). It's a second Joker story that picks up two days after the first one and doesn't shed any new light on the Joker or his motivations, but it does have this extra panel at the very end.



This was 14 years before Seduction of the Innocent was published, but clearly DC was not only aware of their young audience, but also catering directly to them. It wasn't that Robin toned down Batman's grimness, it was that Robin and the lighter tone were both inspired by younger readers.

That's not nearly as much fun to think about as possible in-story explanations, but when Batman's directly addressing the children in the audience, it's not possible to ignore.

Bat meets Cat

The third story in Batman #1 (by Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson) features Batman letting Robin fly on his own solo mission, at least for a while. Batman reads about a yacht party where a famous emerald necklace will likely tempt criminals, but he has "another job to do first" and sends Robin ahead to work undercover as a steward. Batman promises to catch up later.

Robin discovers a note that suggests the Cat, a famous thief is after the necklace, but he doesn't make much headway in his investigation before Batman shows up. It's Batman who uncovers the Cat's disguise and reveals her to be a beautiful, nameless woman.

Of course in hindsight we know that her name is Selina Kyle (and her nom de guerre will eventually morph into something more familiar), but she's still a mystery in this story. One thing that's already present though is the sexual tension between her and Batman. She comes on to him as soon as he catches her, but he rebuffs her because they work on different sides of the law. It's probably right to assume that she was just playing him, but if that's so, her plan - shockingly - works!

As Batman and Robin carry her towards shore in Batman's speedboat (it's not pimped out enough to call it the Batboat just yet), the Cat leaps overboard to escape. Robin tries to jump in after her, but Batman foils the attempt by pretending to clumsily bump into the kid. Robin isn't fooled and Batman barely tries to cover it up. The story ends with Batman mooning over the Cat, trying to remind himself that he's engaged to the woman from Detective Comics 31 and 32. I don't know how Bruce Wayne eventually breaks up with Julie, or even if it's shown in the comics, but it's interesting to think that Selina Kyle may have had something to do with it.

What to make of his letting her go though? She didn't actually hurt anyone, so that somewhat excuses his giving vengeance a break, but what kind of example is he setting for Robin? I've speculated that Robin's presence has made Batman question how violently he attacks criminals, but there's a huge leap from that to just letting them go. Batman's clearly thinking with a different part of his body from his brain.

Tarzan 101 | Edgar Rice Burroughs, Incorporated

Celebrating Tarzan's 101st anniversary by walking through Scott Tracy Griffin's Tarzan: The Centennial Celebration.

Burroughs was a savvy businessman as well as a talented author. In 1923 he incorporated himself, gave stock to his family members, and started drawing a salary from the new company. He set up shop on Ventura Boulevard and the Spanish-style bungalow is still the headquarters of the corporation today. I got the photo above from the Black Gate site, which includes a report on Ryan Harvey's visit to ERB, Inc. earlier this year. Harvey's post is full of great information and well worth reading.

It was through ERB, Inc. that Burroughs eventually made his film deals and even published his own books. The endeavor was successful enough to get Burroughs and his family through the Great Depression with his finances intact.

During Burroughs' lifetime, the company had two full-time secretaries. Burroughs hired Ralph Rothmund in 1927 and added Mildred Bernard Jensen in 1931. The company's been run by Burroughs' family since Rothmund retired in 1963.

Though Burroughs died in 1950 (his ashes are buried beneath the mulberry tree in the photo, though a walnut tree was there at the time of his death), his company still manages the licenses for films, books, comics, toys, and everything else based on his work.

Much as Batman hates to take human life...

A couple of things about this Man Monsters story from Batman #1 (by Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson):

First, it was originally intended as a Detective Comics story. At the end of Detective 37, a panel showed Batman facing a couple of giants and declared that "Next month, huge, terrifying Man-Monsters stalk the streets." What next month actually brought, however, was the Sensational Character Find of 1940: Robin, the Boy Wonder. DC bumped the Man Monsters story, so it ended up in Batman #1, which - like the Superman solo series - was an anthology comic in its early days. The Man Monsters story also featured the return of Hugo Strange, who created the beasts to use as a distraction while his henchmen robbed banks.

The second thing worth pointing out in the Man Monsters story is this:



First of all, Batman has never shown any reluctance for taking human life in his stories so far. In fact, he punches Hugo Strange out of a tower window less than an hour before this scene takes place and follows it up by lassoing one of the Man Monsters around its neck and hanging it from the Batwing.

Secondly, if Batman did hate killing, why mount a machine gun on the Batwing? Clearly Batman has no issues at all with taking human life, but he apparently feels the need to justify it to himself. Which makes me wonder some more about Robin's influence on him.

This story was obviously written before Robin's introduction, but its publication after Robin adds an interesting element. Is Batman starting to feel remorse over killing so many bad guys? Does the responsibility of raising Robin make him rethink his tactics? It hasn't changed his behavior yet, but this may be the first step in that direction.