Although I am longer a Wednesday Warrior, and visits to my local comic book shop have dwindled to maybe once a month, I remain deeply interested in the industry. Working in a bookshop means focusing on prose rather than comics, and the reality is, nobody ever asks my opinion on the latest issue of Spider-Man, but they do value my thoughts on the latest Bosch novel by Michael Connelly. But comics — specifically DC Comics and Superman — initiated my love of reading as a child.
I lost myself in the convoluted world of Superman in the mid-nineties, when he returned from the dead with a mullet after his devastating battle with Doomsday, broke off his engagement with Lois Lane, then married her, then developed new electric powers… Much of it was nonsensical, all of it was ridiculous, but I loved those comics. My father and grandmother would buy me a comic book from the newsagents every weekend, and every school holidays dad would take me to the comic book shop, where I had a $50 spending limit, and got to indulge my habit. I started reading Batman and Justice League, then discovered Marvel’s stuff, and became a regular reader of Spider-Man. The storytelling was soap-operatic and addictive, and from those superhero comics I moved onto Marvel and DC books starring their flagship characters, which in turn propelled me into reading non-superhero related fiction. It’s a safe bet to say I would not be writing this blog, or be working as a bookseller, if it wasn’t for comic books. And the current state of the industry, in terms of the periodicals themselves rather than the cash-cow films, concerns me greatly. There are so many brilliant writers currently crafting brilliant comics, specifically on the creator-owned scene, and it’s terrifying thinking about the limited readership on offer despite the incredible storytelling on offer.
Reed Tucker’s Slugfest – Inside the Epic, 50-Year Battle Between Marvel and DC is a succinct blow-by-blow account of the often-bitter rivalry between the comic book industry’s biggest players. It’s riveting, for those interested in the subject matter, but reads more like a primer than a comprehensive delineation of DC and Marvel’s evolution from ‘funny books’ to intellectual property for multinational entertainment behemoths. Much like Sean Howe’s Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, my favourite sections of Tucker’s book are whenever personnel from the two companies offer their perspective on specific events that transpired; the raw animosity between editorial departments and personnel, their attempts at one-upmanship, and the few times the companies partnered for crossovers. Tucker’s book is impeccably researched and authoritative, but I wanted more.
The book is even-handed and certainly readable, and for those with even the smallest interest in the industry it’s a great place to start. Those who want more depth and analysis should check out books published by Sequart, who specialise in going deep on everything comics-related.