In the last month  a collection of approximately 12,000 comics was purchased with half in the 1940′s to 1960′s era! Every genre is represented, from Romance to War, and from Horror SF to Superhero.  There’s a great assortment of pre-superhero Marvel/Atlas including Amazing Adventures,  Journey into Mystery, Tales of Suspense and Tales to Astonish.  Obscure and esoteric publishers are here, including St. John, Lev Gleason, and Avon. There is a small group of EC’s, a bunch of DC and tons of Marvel Superhero titles.  A nice portion of these books are now graded, priced and at the store…..a small sampling are now being featured on eBay under seller name AMGIROUX, so check ‘em out in the store on on the internet.  The collection is so large that we do not have all of it processed. We are adding books to the store daily and will be for the weeks ahead.

A smattering of very key and critical Golden Age is included and you now see the likes of Superman #7, Detective #41, America’s Greatest #1 (very early Captain Marvel) on display at the store.

There are some modern Keys including Hulk #181, New Mutants #98, X-men #266 and Spider-man #300.

We have been posting pics of some of the great covers like Superman #7, Wonder Woman #52, Hulk #6, X-men #1 and more on our Facebook page so LIKE us on Facebook to see what we have! We keep adding more every day.

If you don’t live in Phoenix, not to worry, we do mail order. If you are going to be in Phoenix in late May for the upcoming Phoenix Comic Con we’ll be set up with lots of these goodies on hand.

Feel free to email us your want list and we’ll see what we’ve got!

Happy Collecting!

Daredevil

Frank Miller, whether writing or drawing or both, is a hard act to follow, but we’re picking up this week right after the “Born Again” story arc in DD #227-233. Issue #234 is a fill-in written by Mark Gruenwald that introduces the D-list villain Madcap, which is no big deal — but the artist is Steve Ditko, so it’s worth a look. Ditko does the breakdowns for #235, too, featuring Mr. Hyde as the bad guy, but the better news is in #236, because that one features the art of Barry Windsor-Smith, and guest-stars the Black Widow; it’s written by Ann Nocenti, who returns as regular scripter with #238, drawn by Sal Buscema and featuring a DD/Sabretooth battle that ties into the then-current “Mutant Massacre” X-crossover. Nocenti then settles in for a long, interesting run: she’s got a keen sense of character, and an offbeat rhythm to her plots and themes that’s a little off-putting at first, but grows on you as you get used to it. There are musical artists for a while at first — Todd McFarlane on #241 the most notable, but a Keith Giffen job on #247 is interesting, too, as is a two-part Wolverine crossover in the next two issues with art by Rick Leonardi and the great inker Al Williamson. Things really settle in with #250, though, and the introduction of John Romita, Jr. as regular penciller — especially since Williamson stays on as inker.

They and Nocenti end up making a good team — their knack at drawing regular guys, cool-looking mobsters and sexy women serves them well over the first few issues, as Typhoid Mary, the schizo-pyrokinetic hit woman, gets introduced in #254 and becomes the Kingpin’s enforcer in one personality, and a love interest for DD in another. Her battles with Our Hero continue all the way through issue #266, with a Punisher guest-shot in #257 (and a skippable fill-in in #258), a climactic fight in #261 which sees a badly-beaten DD left unconscious under a bridge, and an “Inferno” crossover that sees DD battling demons in New York City from issue #262-266 (there’s another Ditko fill-in to interrupt things in #264), and which ends with a Christmas issue in #266 that sees DD and Mephisto having a drink together in a New York bar. Great, addictive stuff, and Nocenti apparently likes the occult stories that emphasize the latter part of DD’s name, because in #270 she introduces Mephisto’s son, Blackheart (which sees Romita Jr. getting to draw Spider-Man as a guest star), and in issues #278-282 offers a long story guest-starring the Inhumans and Black Bolt’s son that also features Blackheart, Mephisto, and a trip through hell that’s resolved by a Silver Surfer appearance at the end; all of this is by Romita Jr. and Williamson (except for the fill-ins), and is quite a bit of weird fun.

Romita Jr. leaves with #282, though, and things begin to flatten out, although Nocenti sticks around for one more offbeat arc, as she chronicles a disoriented Matt Murdock ending up back in New York City from hell, suffering from amnesia and getting work as a boxer in a gym (no one, including him, realizes that he’s blind), and somehow, eventually, fighting a Bullseye who’s been donning the Daredevil costume — which means that Matt’s in Bullseye’s regular outfit. The art here is mostly Lee Weeks (although Greg Capullo does #286), while Kieron Dwyer pencils the last two issues of the story, ending in #290. Nocenti’s gone, too, with issue #291, and new writer D.G. Chichester comes aboard with issue #292. Thus begins a new, very ’90s-ish era of DD, one that goes by smoothly but with very little staying power: there are Punisher and Spider-Man crossovers, and lots of different artists, and nothing that sticks in the memory. The next item of note occurs a few years later, in issue #319, when Marvel, through Chichester and artist Scott McDaniel, tries to duplicate the “Born Again” buzz by deconstructing DD, causing him lots of problems and, eventually, giving him a brand-new costume, in the “Fall From Grace” arc. Issue #319 is hot for a while, but the story itself is pedestrian and tired, and by issue #331 Chichester and McDaniels are gone, replaced by Gregory Wright and Tom Grindberg, people that you need at least a master’s degree in comcis history to have ever heard of (this seems to happen a lot in ’90s Marvel books, all the “name” artists having, at that point, run off to form Image Comics). Chichester is back from #239-242, but writing under “Alan Smithee,” the pseudonym famously used by Hollywood screenwriters when they want to disown a script after it’s been butchered by others; you can draw your own conclusions about that. There’s a welcome hiccup of quality in #343, thanks to a Warren Ellis script, and DD gets his familiar red costume back in #345 (to no one’s surprise); J.M. DeMatteis does the writing chores for a while, but there’s little to remark on until Karl Kesel takes over story-writing chores with #353, and brings at least some interesting characterization back to the book, helped along by artist Cary Nord (and, in issues #363, 366-368 and 370, old DD hand Gene Colan). Kelly leaves with #375, and the first volume of Daredevil follows a few issues later, with #380, cover-dated October, 1998.

Not to worry, though, since volume 2 begins the next month, with a big splash supplied by then-rookie writer (but already hot geek-centric director) Kevin Smith, whose first eight-issue arc, with art by Joe Quesada and Jimmy Palmiotti, was hot then, and still hard to find in the original issues even today. David Mack writes issues #9-11, still with art by Quesada and Palmiotti, which introduces Echo to the Marvel Universe (although she just “died” over in Moon Knight).  Brian Michael Bendis contributes his first DD story in issues #16-19, while Mack puts down the word processor and picks up the art chores; by issue #26, Bendis is back, and the art is handled by Alex Mallev, a collaboration that will become one of the longer-running and more influential ones in DD history (it’s both startling and a little sad to realize that it began over ten years ago). By issue #32, the team has shaken up the book by revealing Matt Murdock’s secret identity to the public, a move that echoes through the title even today; from there through the end of their tenure, with issue #80, it’s one well-drawn and interesting five-issue arc after another, as Daredevil remains one of the most consistently-entertaining and unpredictable books on the stands, culminating with Murdock’s eventual arrest and imprisonment in Rykers (where the Kingpin and many other bad guys lurk), awaiting his trial on federal charges because of the many laws he broke while walking the tightrope between his lawyer and costumed identities.

Fortunately, while Bendis and Maleev have left, the new team consists of hardboiled-fiction master Ed Brubaker, Micheal Lark and Stefano Gaudiano, and they pick up the challenge left by Bendis with aplomb, beginning yet another long quality run on the title, all the way through issue #119 of volume #2, and its renumbering back to volume one with DD’s 500th issue after that — a little over 40 issues in all.

The next year on the title, #s 501-512, can’t live up to the quality of its predecessors — writer Andy Diggle isn’t bad, but he’s saddled with yet another tear-DD-down assignment culminating in the unfortunate and stupid “Shadowland” crossover — but the good news is that the title’s rebirth last year, with issue #1 of volume 3, has been one of the better books on the stands, thanks to Mark Waid’s scripts and very nice-looking art by Paulo and Joe Rivera and Marcos Martin. As ever, Matt Murdock’s swashbuckling alter ego has found it easy to shrug off a few bad stories, and come out ahead with a decent and sympathetic creative team — between the Lee-Thomas-Conway/Colan years, the Miller era, and the Nocenti/Romita Jr. run (let alone the more-recent Smith/Quesada arc, followed by the Bendis/Maleev and Brubaker/Lark/Gaudiano runs), he’s had a lot better luck with creative teams than almost any other Marvel hero.

Daredevil

Daredevil’s first issue appears cover-dated April, 1964, and from the start he has two hooks: the swashbuckling, fearless adventurer implied by the title, and the fact that he’s blind. There had been blind heroes before — DC’s Dr. Midnite, for instance — but they were usually cheats of some kind (Midnite had special lenses that not only let him see fine, but let him see in total darkness). Daredevil really can’t see at all: in the origin, a young Matt Murdock saves a boy from being run over by a delivery truck, but a radioactive canister in the truck hits him in the forehead, blinding him. Of course, there’s compensation: the radioactivity somehow enhances his other senses, giving him dog-like hearing, enhanced smell and touch, and a “radar sense” that lets him perceive movement in a 360-degree radius around him. However, it’s not sight: he can sense outlines, but he can’t see color; he can “read” a headline by running his fingers along a newspaper, but if that paper’s held up in front of his face he can’t sense any letters or words.

Early issues establish the setting and supporting cast: Murdock is a lawyer, a partner in a firm with his old friend Franklin “Foggy” Nelson, with their secretary, Karen Page, playing the potential love interest. DD has the advantage of top-level creators from the start: the first issue is by Stan Lee and Bill Everett, with Wally Wood and John Romita also providing art for the first year and a half. Then, with issue #20, Daredevil’s classic artist, Gene Colan, arrives; with a few rests, he’ll provide the visuals for the blind attorney and his friends for the next seven years, through issue #100. I’ve sung Colan’s praises before, so I’ll be brief here: suffice it to say that his eloquent expressions, moody style, and imaginative layouts make DD one of the best-looking books on the stands.

Lee apparently likes the title, too, since he stays on as writer through issue #49 (March, 1969); with #50, Roy Thomas comes on board, accompanied by a very young (and still developing) Barry Smith, who stays for three issues, after which Colan comes back. Thomas remains until issue #69, and is replaced by Gerry Conway, who sticks around until issue #98; he’s replaced by Steve Gerber, and after Colan’s farewell in issue #100 the art falls to Rich Buckler and Syd Shores before Don Heck takes over with issue #103; he stays through issue #106 and is replaced by Bob Brown. Gerber and Brown stay through issue #117 (although Colan supplies the art in #s 110, 112 and 116), and then Tony Isabella scripts over Brown’s pencils from issue #119-123. Len Wein scripts issue #124 (with Colan art), but the next issue is by Marv Wolfman and Brown, and that team remains through issue #135, a run that’s most notable for its introduction of the villainous marksman Bullseye in issues #131-132. Wolfman continues after that, with art by John Buscema in 136 and 1367, John Byrne in 138, and Sal Buscema in 139 and 140; with #141, Jim Shooter arrives as scripter, with Gil Kane on the art: as it turns out, that’s a high-quality team, and after a few issues by others they return in #146-148, featuring a memorable battle with Bullseye. Shooter’s gone after #151, and Roger McKenzie replaces him; he has the good fortune to get Gene Colan art in 153 and 154, followed by Frank Robbins in #s 155 and 156, and Colan again in #157. That’s all overshadowed by the arrival of a brand-new artist in the next issue, #158: Frank Miller.

Miller’s tenure starts slowly, as he finishes up a McKenzie Death-Stalker story in his first issue, but by #s 160 and 161 (with the Black Widow and Bullseye), he’s starting to attract attention.  Issue #162 is a fill-in (by Steve Ditko, of all people), but Miller’s back the next issue (with a Hulk guest-appearance), and by #165′s Dr. Octopus issue he’s being credited as co-plotter; by #168, he’s both scripter and artist, as he debuts the mysterious ninja and old Matt Murdock love interest Elektra. For the next year, Daredevil is the hottest book in comics, as Miller combines Elektra, the Kingpin, Bullseye and the shadowy ninja group The Hand into a sprawling story that climaxes with Elektra’s death at the hands of Bullseye in issue #181. That’s followed by a classic Punisher crossover in #183 and 184, and then Miller scales back on the art chores, providing layouts for inker Klaus Janson to finish starting with issue #185.  The next few issues provide a run-up to the resurrection of Elektra in #190; that’s followed by Miller’s finale as both writer and full artist in #191, where Daredevil plays Russian roulette in a hospital room with a paralyzed Bullseye.

Things quiet down considerably after that: Janson takes over the art chores in #192, while Alan Brennert has the unenviable task of following the massive fan favorite Miller as writer. He’s only there for one issue, though, as Larry Hama writes #193, and new “permanent” scripter Denny O’Neil comes aboard with issue #194. Janson leaves with issue #195, and by the time William Johnson accepts the art chores with #196, even a guest appearance by the then-hot Wolverine can’t create any buzz for DD. O’Neil’s run isn’t bad — he’s too professional a writer for that — but it doesn’t stand out, either; there’s a long subplot involving Micah Synn, a savage from a lost tribe who ends up in New York as both an enforcer and the toast of high society, that has a clever denouement, but otherwise it’s the next “good artist” appearance that sparkles: a David Mazzucchelli art job on #206. There’s a Harlan Ellison script involving a death-trapped house in #208, also with Mazzucchelli, who then ends up sticking around through issue #217; best of all, Miller returns to script the one-shot #219, over John Buscema art, in which an out-of-costume Murdock plays a mysterious stranger who ends up trying to redeem a corrupt small town, with mixed results; it’s a fascinating precurser to some of the same themes Miller would return to in Sin City.

After more O’Neil/Mazzucchelli work in issues #220-223 and 225, Miller returns as writer with #226, and he and Mazzucchelli embark on the “Born Again” arc; it starts in #227, as the long-forgotten Karen Page, now a junkie and porn actress (Miller, as ever, isn’t afraid to drag his characters into the gutter) reveals DD’s secret identity for a fix. This leads to a fall-and-redemption story featuring the Kingpin as villain that eventually reunites and rehabilitates both Murdock and Page (not to mention Daily Bugle reporter Ben Urich), and ends up in #233 with Captain America, the Avengers, and the psychotic, physically-enhanced super-soldier Nuke; it doesn’t have quite the pizzazz of Miller’s earlier run, but it’s both deeper and richer in theme, and holds up remarkably well today, over 25 years later.

… and that’s a good place to stop for this week; check out many of these issues from around #183 and up out on the discount racks (including some of the Miller ones) for just 99 cents, and tune in two weeks from now for the scoop on DD’s more recent books.

The Party starts at 6 pm with CAKE and Discounts! Get 25% off ALL Back Issue X-men and Avengers Comics (including consignment!) Get 10% off all other X-men and Avengers items, including T-shirts, Pint Glasses, Coffee Mugs, Statues and more.

At 8 pm the Avengers Vs. X-men #1 will go on sale, including ALL variants and incentives! We are officially an Avengers Team Store, but we will have ALL of the Variants including the X-men Team Store Variants.  Come in Tues.  night to be sure to get the exclusives, Avengers Team Store Variant, X-men Team Store Variant, Stegman Variant, Stegman Sketch Variant (one per store), Romita Jr. Variant and Blank Variant. These will be in limited supply so come in Tues.night if you don’t want to miss out.

This is Marvel’s biggest  launch of the year. They have brought together 8 of the best creators in the industry, Brian Bendis, Jason Aaron, Ed Brukbaker, Jonathan Hickman, Matt Fraction, John Romita Jr, Olivier Coipel, and Adam Kubert. This story involves the entire Marvel Universe and will set the stage for a seismic shift in the Marvel Universe that will tie into all Marvel ongoing titles! AVX will ship twice a month from April through Sept.

Stay tuned for more info!

The Defenders

The original Defenders first get together in Marvel Feature #1-3, as Dr. Strange mystically ropes in the Hulk and the Sub-Mariner to help him deal with an occult threat to Earth. Part of the original hook of the series is that this isn’t the Avengers – the “members” don’t hang out together, and don’t have a clubhouse or mansion (although Dr. Strange’s townhouse is often the center of activity) — they get together to do a job, and that’s it, a relationship that makes sense with crabby loners like Namor and the Hulk. Defenders #1, from August, 1972,  features a creative team that will remain for the book’s first year: Steve Englehart as scripter, and Sal Buscema as artist. They begin with the core three heroes, and a dependable pattern: mystic menace requiring a lot of muscle, provided by Namor and the Hulk, that helps to showcase Buscema’s straight-ahead, high-energy ability to draw heroes and villains punching the crap out of each other. Englehart quickly establishes a set of supporting characters, as the Silver Surfer starts hanging out in issue #2, the “new” Valkyrie appears in issue #3, and Hawkeye shows up in issue #7. This culminates in an Avengers/Defenders crossover battle in issues #8-11 of this title, and #116-119 of The Avengers; it’s fondly remembered because it’s consistently well-done (it helps enormously that Englehart is writing both books at the time) and for Defenders #10, which features a Hulk/Thor fight that takes up half the issue.

Englehart leaves the book after issue #11, although Buscema will stay for another 30 issues; Len Wein takes over as scripter from issues #12-18, and keeps the pot bubbling nicely — he introduces Nighthawk to the team in issue #13, guest-stars Professor X and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants in #s 15 and 16, and manages appearances by Luke Cage and the Wrwecking Crew in the last few issues. However, it’s issue #20 that begins the Defenders’ Golden Age, because that’s when new writer Steve Gerber arrives; he and Buscema will stay on the book through issue #41, and mold it into one of the best super-hero series of the ’70s along the way.

The buildup starts slowly, but Gerber starts deepening the characterization and themes, first with a longish Sons of the Serpent serial, and then with a Guardians of the Galaxy tale. The real fun starts in issue #31, though, as C-list villains The Headmen kidnap Nighthawk and remove his brain (the better to put one of their own brains in his skull). The next ten issues feature dozens of bad and good guys, an orphaned deer rescued by the Hulk (“Men killed Bambi’s mother!”), a satire of ’70s self-help movements, a Firesign Theater riff (issue #34, “I Think We’re All Bozos in This Book!”), takes on both women-in-prison and James Bond movies, and much more. It’s a wild ride, unprecedented for superhero books of the time, and somehow it all works: Gerber is careful to make each issue self-contained, even as subplots spin madly, and the whole thing goes from issue #40 to culminate in the 35-page Defenders Annual #1. Gerber and Buscema take a curtain call in issue #41, a straightforward but letter-perfect done-in-one story that shows they can work in miniature too, and then they’re gone.

The title remains, of course, and will for another ten years, although it’ll never reach those heights of inspired insanity again. That’s not to say there aren’t high points: a very young Keith Giffen assumes the art chores from issues #42-54, and his energetic, Jack-Kirby influenced pencils (not that different from what he’s been providing in O.M.A.C.) are fun to watch. David Kraft debuts as writer with issue #44, and will stay through #68; he’s no Gerber, but he knows that the book’s strengths include offbeat team members (Patsy Walker — Hellcat — arrives from the Avengers to begin a long stay, and Moon Knight hangs around for a while), general weirdness (issues #58-60 showcase Kraft’s obsession with the Blue Oyster Cult, including character names and plots lifted from their albums, as #60′s title — “The Revenge of Vera Gemini” — should make clear), and humor (issues #62-64 feature a Defenders recruiting drive that attracts dozens of also-ran and shouldn’t-have-ran bit-player heroes).

After Kraft, Ed Hannigan comes on as writer from issues #70 – 91; he’s… well, he’s a better artist than a writer, but he’s not doing the interior art of the books, so that doesn’t help; the artists that do appear — Herb Trimpe, followed by Don Perlin — are steady craftsmen but don’t exactly inspire a rabid following. Things don’t liven up until issue #92, when new writer J. M. DeMatteis comes on board; he almost immediately starts up with the kind of cosmic/occult/pop-psychology scripting which marks his style even today — the run-up to issue #100, for example, features one Marvel horror star per issue (Dracula, Ghost Rider, Devil-Slayer, Man-Thing…), culminating in a Satan/Damion Hellstrom fight in issue #100 wherein Satan can’t kill the Son of Satan because… well, he’s his son (a typical Dematteis denoument). He and Perlin stay on the book for a good while — through issue #125 — but not much happens, frankly — there’s a Dr. Seuss-inspired change-of-pace in issue #115 — and by #125 the book’s got a new gimmick: Dr. Strange, the Hulk, the Sub-Mariner and the Surfer have been written out, and replaced by the Beast, Iceman and the Angel, as the book’s title changes to The Ex-X-Men (heh… just kidding, although that would have been truth in advertising, and emphasized what Marvel editorial was hoping would bring readers to the book; no, it changes to The New Defenders, which is considerably less interesting). In the event, the book from here until its cancellation is mostly just more of the same: Dematteis leaves, to be replaced by Peter Gillis, but the only thing that changes is that there are fewer religious references, and less psychological nattering; the artists include a lot more Perlin (who ended up drawing more issues of the title than anyone else, even Sal Buscema), plus a few fill-ins by Alan Kupperberg, not exactly a household word. The title doesn’t so much end as just slowly fade away, with the end coming in February, 1986, with issue #152.

Defenders II

Given its long run, you’d think that a revival would have happened fairly quickly, but the second Defenders volume doesn’t show up until 2001. It’s a hoot, though: Kurt Busiek, who’s one of comics’ better plotters and scripters, teams up with Erik Larsen, and they go back to basics: Hulk, Dr. Strange, Sub-Mariner and the Silver Surfer, with lots of Larsen’s Kirby-inspired action. Most of the team members don’t even like one another — the Hulk and Sub-Mariner, especially; there’s a great early bit when Namor snarls at the Hulk “Don’t touch me!”, and, after a pause, the Green Goliath reaches out a finger, pokes him, and says with a smirk, “Touch.” Predictable mayhem ensues. However, due to a curse they’re forced to come together whenever the Earth is threatened, no matter what else they’re doing — leading to more humor and more tension, and culminating, after issue #12, in the mini-series The Order, where the Big Four decide that the only way to protect the world and solve their problem is to take it over. That’s a clever, exciting story — but it didn’t generate sales, and after 18 total issues between the two titles, The Defenders was cancelled again.

Defenders III

This is the 2005 five-issue series by Keith Giffen, DeMatteis and Kevin McGuire, who bring their Justice League bwah-ha-ha style to Marvel’s non-team. Five issues is just about right; it’s a little too self-satisfied in its cleverness for its own good, but the art is pretty, and the snarky asides help to move things along smoothly. Both Defenders fans and ’80s Justice League fans should seek it out.

There’s a slew of late 1950′s DC Western titles, including All-Star Western and Tomahawk. Marvel westerns are featured too with titles like Kid Colt, which always had that great Stan Lee/Jack Kirby flair. And one book I found with a pretty audacious name from the early 1950′s, “Western Killers!” Ya gotta love it! Harvey publishing is well represented here, with VF 8.0 copies of “Casper, the Friendly Ghost” Giants. Very tough to find books like this in high end shape.

The Science Fiction/Horror motif from the 1950′s/60′s is included here too. House of Mystery, Strange Adventures, and Mystery in Space are just some of the titles, many at very affordable prices too. Obscurities like Dell’s “Tales from the Tomb”, along with an ACG title I’ve NEVER seen filter in before, “Magic Agent” are here. I just had to read a few of these puppies before pricing them! This aforementioned title is a character that’s sort of a combination of James Bond and Marvel’s Dr. Strange. Goofy but yet cool stuff from the early 1960′s.

The last title that really stands out in my mind is the beautiful selection of DC’s early 1970′s war book, “Weird War Tales.” Always requested by in-store and web customers, but rarely found in the NM 9.4 shape we got them in, this title is just the gem of this 1,600 or so comic collection. There were TWO VF/NM copies of issue #1, and one of them has already been purchased, so don’t wait if you have any interest in this one.

Did I mention the assorted Golden Age (1940′s) books that were part of this collection? No? Then please come in and have a look-see at the display case that features them. Police Comics, Captain Marvel….even a hard-to-find early 1950′s horror EC!

It’s been nice “talking” with all of you again….and as the old Silver Age DC letter columns used to end, “We must be doing something-Write!” (As in respond to these missives you guys!)

Next up…a butt, er, boatload of Spawn collectibles we just, ahem, acquried!

Alan G

Dr. Strange

Dr. Stephen Strange is the “other” Marvel mainstay created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko (after Spider-Man, of course), and first appears as the back-up story in Strange Tales #110, in 1963. He has a typical Stan Lee fairy-tale, there’s-a-lesson-here origin: he’s a world-renowned surgeon, arrogant and uncaring, but then gets in a drunken car wreck that damages his hands, and makes it impossible for him to do surgery any more. Bitter and depressed, he schleps around the globe, eventually ending up at one of those hidden-temple Shangri-La Far East outposts, where he encounters the Ancient One, a magician/guru, and his disciple, Baron Mordo. Strange accidentally discovers that Mordo is really a villain, who’s learning the Ancient One’s arts for evil, and, revealing his buried heroism, risks his life to warn everyone about it and stop Mordo’s plans; Mordo ends up banished, and Strange becomes the Ancient One’s new disciple. All of this is rendered with imagination and grace by Ditko, whose ability to draw weird other dimensions, and make mystical powers like “bolts of bedevilment” seem both realistic and trippy/cool, turns the origin, and the tales that follow it, into ’60s hippy classics. Ditko leaves the book in 1966, with issue #146, but Strange soldiers on — drawn by, among others, Bill Everett, Marie Severin, Dan Adkins and Jim Steranko — and eventually takes over the comic, as Strange Tales becomes Dr. Strange with issue #169, in 1968. In issue #172, he receives his second great artist, Gene Colan, who draws him through the end of the book’s run, with issue #183, in 1969.

Strange is relegated to guest-star status for a while after that, but returns to his own stories in 1972, in the try-out title Marvel Premiere. His first appearance there, in issue #3, is written by Lee and drawn by Barry Windsor-Smith, and is a small masterpiece of mood and cool art (Strange, with his mystical and fantasy elements, has always attracted good artists). Lee only writes the first issue, and Smith only stays around for the next one, #4; there’s some flailing around after that, but in issue #9 the team of Steve Englehart and Frank Brunner takes over, and quickly makes the book a cult favorite, by doing things like killing the Ancient One, and having Dr. Strange travel to the beginning of the universe and meet God; after Marvel Premier #14, in fact, the book proves popular enough to get its own title again, and Dr. Strange #1 appears in June, 1974, still by Englehart and Brunner. That artist leaves after issue #5, but his replacement is Gene Colan, and he and Englehart, during the next year, deliver one of the best sustained Marvel runs of the ’70s: Dr. Strange #s 6-18, among other things, destroy the world and remake it, have Dr. Strange fight Dracula (in a two-parter that crosses over with Colan’s second title, Tomb of Dracula), and send Dr. Strange to Hell. Only a few of these issues are on the discount racks, but they’re surprisingly cheap, and available in the regular back-issue boxes for $5 or less each; if you’ve never read them, you’re missing some wonderful, influential work.

Unfortunately, just when the book is at its peak Englehart gets into a dispute with Marvel’s new editor-in-chief, Gerry Conway, and leaves the company; that leaves the book to try to pick up the pieces, and it goes into musical-creator mode for awhile. Part of the problem is that not all writers are compatible with the Doctor — Marv Wolfman and Chris Clarement, among others, try and mostly fail — but there are some interesting moments: Jim Starlin writing issues #24-26; Roger Stern and Tom Sutton on #s 27-30; Claremont and Colan on #s 38-45 (Claremont doesn’t add much, but the Colan art is worth a look). The next really decent run, though, starts with issue #47, as Roger Stern (who does prove to be a great Doc writer) teams with Colan for that issue, and then with Marshall Rogers from #48-53,  Michael Golden in #55, and Paul Smith in #56. Stern stays on with some lesser artists (although there’s another battle with Dracula in #s 60-62 that banishes all vampires from the Marvel Universe for awhile that’s pretty good), but then Smith returns in issue #65, and he and Stern have a nice little set of stories through issue #73. Both leave at that point, though, and the book only lasts a few more months, ending with issue #81 in February, 1987.

Strange’s third volume begins about a year and a half later, in November, 1988, and is titled Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme; the initial writer is Peter Gillis (who’d been the scripter for the last few issues of the previous series), with art chores by Richard Case (who’d eventually go on to DC Vertigo titles like Doom Patrol); that team only stays for the first four issues, though, and then is replaced by Roy Thomas (with, as co-writer, his wife Dann) and Jackson Guice, an association that proves fruitful enough to last for two years, through issue #24 (although there are a few fill-in artists: Richard Valentino in #17, and Gene Colan in #19). The most notorious issue of this run comes, not from any plot or character development, but from a cover: on issue #15, Guice swiped an image from one of Christian singer Amy Grant’s albums, and Grant, upset at both the theft and the fact that it was used on a “demonic” character’s cover, sued Marvel, who eventually settled out of court. The Thomases stay on after that, but with a series of undistinguished artists (Geof Isherwood being the most long-lived); even the plots become less memorable, because this is a period – the early ’90s — when Marvel is heavily into cosmic crossovers — Infinity Gauntlet, etc. — and Dr. Strange keeps tying into them, sacrificing any individual story for the larger mega-event. Thomas leaves with issue #47, and when scripter Len Kaminski replaces him the descent into mediocrity is complete. There are a couple of glimmers — in issue #60, a big crossover with the other Marvel occult titles like Morbius and Spirits of Vengeance (they’re all part of the group of books that Marvel marketed as the “Midnight Sons”) takes place, and Dr. Strange gets broken into three different beings; this story, by David Quinn and Melvin Rubi (at first), starts promisingly but then lasts through what seems forever, and sends Strange through so many makeovers and changes that the reader gets exhausted trying to keep it all straight. Points of note are issues #70-73, with art by Peter Gross; #75, by Mark Buckingham; #76, introducing a long-haired version of Strange by Gross that looks eerily like the older Tim from his Books of Magic series at DC Vertigo; #s 78 and 79, by Marie Severin; #80, featuring another new look for the character, this one written by Warren Ellis and drawn by Buckingham; #82, half by Buckingham and half by Gary Frank; and #s 84-90, drawn by Buckingham and with a story by J.M. DeMatteis — and that ends the series, in January 1996, and is the last time that Dr. Strange has had his own ongoing title.

That’s not to say that the character hasn’t been around, of course. There’ve been the occasional mini-series (J. Michael Straczynski and Brandon Peterson did the six-issue origin reboot Strange in 2004, while Mark Waid and Emma Rios contributed the four-issue Strange in 2010), and the Doctor has been a member of the Avengers (well, the New Avengers) during most of Brian Michael Bendis’s tenure on that book, as well as appearing in the current revival of The Defenders. Will audiences ever warm to him again? Sure: if comics history has proven anything, it’s that, with the right writer and the right artist, any character can rise from the comics graveyard. Given his past, the Master of the Mystic Arts is a better candidate than most.

Question for the Professor:

I have Marvel comics from the late ’70s thru the mid ’80s.  There are variations in the top left symbols and UPC (when UPCs were introduced). In my youthful exuberance I had both a subscription (brown wrapped comic) and went to the news stand, so I have two of the same in a number of cases, with different top left corner and UPC (UPC or, say, Spidey face) that seems to be the diff possibly. Could you shed some light? Is there really any diff regarding pricing/collectibility?

Well, Greg, there are actually a couple of things going on with cover variations: first, and earliest, in the mid-’70s Marvel test-marketed price increases (from 25 to 30 cents in 1976, and from 30 to 35 cents in 1977) in a few cities before instituting them nationwide, and so a couple of issues of the Marvel books have price variants; the rarer, “higher” prices go for about 2.5 times the “regular” prices. Those variants, though, apply only to the price; the rest of the cover, including the UPC box, remains the same.

Another variant comes from the “Whitman three-packs”: the Whitman company, which distributed Gold Key comics (that’s an oversimplification of a tangled corporate relationship I’m not going to get into here), contracted with Marvel in the late ’70s to market bagged sets of Marvel comics in places like K-Mart. Those came three to a bag, and can be distinguished by an altered upper-left box and a blank UPC code. Note the picture here of two copies of Thor #275, from September 1978: one issue is the “normal” copy, and the other is the so-called “Whitman variant.” The Whitman variants, when out of the bag, are usually the same price as the “normal” books, although unopened three-packs can go for more — roughly twice what the three books inside the bag would go for in their “regular” incarnations.

The biggest and most long-lived cover variant, though, came about because of the rise of comic book stores in the late ’70s. This “direct market” for comics developed a different wholesale arrangement with Marvel than the regular newsstand distributors did: the comic book stores got a bigger discount on the comics, but, unlike newsstand books, they weren’t “returnable”: owners couldn’t tear off the covers of unsold books and send them back in for credit. What sometimes happened, though, was that an unscrupulous comic store owner could sell his unsold books to a newsstand owner, who then could send the covers in for credit. To prevent this, Marvel, in the summer of 1979, starting putting slightly different covers on books sold to comic book stores. Look at Thor #285, from July 1979: the newsstand comic has the “regular” cover, while the comic book store issue has a slash through the UPC code, plus a partially-darkened upper-left price box. Copies of this cover were not returnable, while the “regular” covers were.

Over time, Marvel changed the ways the covers differed: by Thor #296 (June, 1980) the familiar Spidey logo appears in the comic store copies, while the newsstand copies have the UPC code. Other variations followed: for a while, each series had individualized icons (so Thor’s hammer was in the box on his books instead of the UPC code), and special issues sometimes played around with the box, too. Over time, however, as comics stores got bigger and wanted to track their inventory better, they wanted to be able to scan those UPC codes just like the newsstands. By the ’90s, Marvel had standardized the difference (and made it a lot more boring) by just using a “direct market” designation in the comic store copies, along with the same UPC code as in the newsstand variations.

Is there any difference in price? The Overstreet Price Guide has never noted one (arguing that the insides are identical, both covers are printed at the same time, and the differences are minor); in the 23 years I’ve worked at AABC, only two collectors have ever indicated a preference: one wanted only newsstand copies of his ’70s and ’80s books, and the other wanted only the direct-market copies. In terms of scarcity, at the beginning, in 1979, the direct market editions numbered a lot less than the newsstand copies, but by the ’90s that ratio had reversed: the direct market had practically taken over, and it was the newsstand books that were scarce; today, of course, those sales on most titles are almost nonexistent. AABC’s backstock tends to have a lot more of the direct copies (because that’s how we bought the books originally) than the newsstand ones (which have only come in through our buying collections from other people) — but, again, since no one seems to care, the prices have never been any different either.

Excalibur

This begins as an X-Men spinoff in the late ’80s, and is part of the Chris Claremont Traveling Mutant Show: written by him and set in England, it features Captain Britain, plus Kitty Pryde, Nightcrawler and the Rachel Summers Phoenix of the regular X-Men team, plus the character Meggan (who, true to comic-book soap-opera conventions, develops a romance with Captain Britain that culminates in their marriage in the last issue of this first volume, #125). Claremont’s clearly having fun here; the stories are lighthearted, tongue-in-cheek romps (although the normal mutant angst and dangling subplots are sprinkled in too), and he’s helped considerable by the art team of Alan Davis and Paul Neary, at least for the first seven issues; Ron Lim does a fill-in for #8, while Marshall Rogers and Terry Austin, another high-octane team, contribute issues #10 and 11. The Davis/Neary team then returns for most of a long, involved multi-dimensional journey, “The Cross-Time Caper,” in issues #12-17 (and, a little later, and #23-24); various, and lesser, other artists contribute to the other issues, although Claremont continues as writer through #27, which features art by Barry Smith and Bill Sienkiewicz. After that, pickings are slim for a while, with occasional bright spots (Colleen Doran art in #28; a Claremont three-parter in #s 32-34 that sees Kitty in an English girls’ boarding school; Alan Davis contributing both art and story in #s 42-50, 54-56 and 61-67; Joe Madureira art in #s 57 and 58; Amanda Connor in #80).

The next actual era (only the third, counting the Claremont and Davis ones) comes with issue #83, courtesy of new writer Warren Ellis. At that point, in late 1994, he was an unknown quantity, but he quickly put his stamp on the title: deft characterization, weird black-ops and occult storylines, and more energy than the book had seen in years. Much of the black-ops stuff came courtesy of new character Pete Wisdom, a cynical, chain-smoking British Intelligence agent who, against all odds, developed a romance with Kitty Pryde that quickly became the centerpiece of the book. Ellis stays through issue #103, with a variety of artists (Terry Dodson in #83 and Carlos Pacheco in #s 95, 96, 98 and 103 being the most distinguished); probably the best issue of the lot, and the most accessible, is #91, one of those take-a-breath issues where the whole team goes out to a local pub, and in the course of the evening we find out more about the characters (and develop more affection for them) than in a whole year’s worth of most other comics.

After Ellis leaves, the rest of the run has only a few high points (Bryan Hitch art in issues # 104 and 105 are it, in fact). Then, in 2004, Excalibur Volume II begins: Claremont is back on the scripts, with art by Aaron Lopresti; this version of the title is set in the ruins of Genosha, and features Professor X and Magneto shepherding a crew of young-uns, with Unus the Untouchable thrown in for variety. This version only lasts 14 issues, and is followed by New Excalibur in 2006, also by Claremont, but with a lineup consisting of Captain Britain, Juggernaut, Pete Wisdom, Nocturne (the alternate-dimension daughter of Nightcrawler), and Dazzler (and, later, Sage); Michael Ryan supplies most of the art through issue #8, after which both he and Claremont leave; the new scripter is Frank Tieri (of whom the less said, the better), but Scott Kolins is the artist on issue #9, so that’s something. Claremont returns with issue #16, and stays through the end of the run, with issue #24, at the end of 2007  – and it’s typical Claremont stuff, which is to say smart, well-grounded in the characters, a trifle predictable in its dialogue quirks, worth reading, and, after a few years, forgettable.  So far, four years later, that’s been it for Excalibur.

Exiles

Exiles is around for most of the aughts — it begins in 2001 and the most recent series ends in 2009 — and it plays with some of the same alternate-world concepts that the early Claremont Excaliburs do (as do the DC Elseworlds books and Marvel’s own What If?). The hook is that the team members are all “other” versions of the regular Marvel heroes, from other versions of Marvel Earth — so there’s “a” Blink, “a” Mimic, etc. Morph, the shape-changing, Plastic Man-like hero who was “Slapstick” for a short while in “our” Marvel universe, is the breakout character, while Nocturne, the daughter of “a” Nightcrawler, isn’t far behind. Given missions by a “Timekeeper,” the group hops from dimension to dimension, “fixing” worlds whose histories have spiraled into disaster; when a member has accomplished enough missions, they get to return to their own dimension, and are replaced by someone else (although, in practice, that seldom happens). Writer Judd Winick shows off a vast knowledge of obscure alleys and backwashes of Marvel history here, and, in the book’s drama, scope and sense of fun, this is his longest sustained good work: issues #1-37. Mike McKone is the initial artist, but Jim Calafiore draws the most issues; after Winnick, Chuck Austen and Tony Bedard are the other writers, with Bedard supplying more scripts than anyone else, even Winnick. Toward the end (issue #90) Chris Claremont comes on board, and writes the series through to its conclusion with issue #100 (and for another 19 issues after that, as New Exiles). Whoever the writers and artists are, this is in intriguing and briskly-entertaining comic; the concept is strong enough to inspire everyone to do their best work, and fans of alternate-history superheroics, whether of Marvel or DC, should take a look at these books.

The Stern/Englehart Runs

The first Byrne replacement team is writer Roger Stern and penciller Jerry Ordway; Stern’s a good choice, a smart, nimble scripter who at this point had already revitalized Spider-Man; Ordway, a chameleonlike artist, only stays for a few issues (doing his best Byrne imitation), and then leaves. After a big 25th-anniversary issue in #296, with a 64-page script by Stan Lee and art by, among others, Barry Smith, John Buscema and Mark Silvestri, Stern comes back partnered with two Buscemas — John on layouts/pencils, and brother Sal on pencils/inks —  for issues #297 – 302; Sal leaves at that point, but John sticks around (joined by longtime FF inker Joe Sinnott), and new scripter Steve Englehart arrives with issue #304, to settle in for a two-year run.

Englehart, who had left Marvel years before after acclaimed runs on Captain America, the Avengers and Dr. Strange, and, after a stint at DC, had spent the past few years writing novels, proves something of a disappointment: his scripts are solid enough, but lack the spark and crackle of his earlier tenure at Marvel, and sometimes seem wrongheaded (his first FF move is to send Reed and Sue away, and bring in Crystal and the female super-wrestler version of Ms. Marvel as replacements). After #309, Buscema is replaced by Keith Pollard, and things get… strange; the Thing mutates into an even more extreme, rocky-pointed version of himself, while Ms. Marvel gets a dose of cosmic radiation and becomes (wait for it) She-Thing (no, actually they keep calling her Ms. Marvel, but she now resembles the early, leathery-skinned Ben Grimm from the first year or two of FF). After a few issues of trying to kill herself (a development that comes off as more comic than tragic), she settles down, develops a relationship with Ben, and then Crystal and Johnny break up, Crystal leaves, and its the Fantastic Three who embark on an adventure that starts with the Mole Man, picks up Dr. Doom along the way, and ends with a Doom/Beyonder rematch in #319, and a Thing/Grey Hulk battle in #320. Eventually, Reed and Sue come back, the Thing reverts to Ben Grimm, and the entire team get captured by a rogue Watcher and stuck in suspended animation while evil clone versions of themselves menace New York City (Rich Buckler takes over the art from Pollard somewhere in there too, but in the confusion no one notices). This not-that-good (but, at least, never dull) circus ends with issue #333, setting up a relatively brief but much-appreciated era in the team’s history:

Walt Simonson

Simonson, who’s best known to Marvelites for his earlier run on Thor (especially after this summer’s movie, and the gorgeous-looking Omnibus edition of his work on that title that it generated) starts as FF scripter with issue #334 ; Rich Buckler and Ron Lim do the pencils in that issue, #335 and #336, but Simonson himself takes over as writer and artist with #337, and that leads to a lot of fun: cosmic tales involving time travel and battles with Kang and Galactus (including a Kirbyesque Thor/Guardian fight), Celestials, alternate universes, dinosaurs, and, ultimately, a three-part story in issues #347-349 (guest-penciled by Art Adams), wherein the FF get knocked out of commission and replaced by a “new” FF: Spider-Man, Wolverine, Ghost Rider and the Hulk (this was a hot comic in its day, and still a hoot, given the creative team). That’s topped by issue #350, a 38-page epic in which Dr. Doom returns (revealing that all of “his” appearances over the last few years were by robots), the Thing and Ms. Marvel finally revert to their default settings, and Doom and Reed begin a duel that, after jumping past a fill-in issue in #351, leads to FF #352, one of my favorite ’90s Marvel books. Doom has portable time-travel devices that allow him and Reed to flit back and forth over about a 30-minute span, and Simonson’s very brainy script has them jumping across all the pages of the comic (wherein the rest of the FF are fighting Doom’s troops in “real” time), like some demented find-your-own-adventure book; even the cover gets into the act. Seriously: it’s a clever idea, the kind of thing that no medium but comics could pull off, and a tribute to Simonson’s imagination and storytelling skills. Simonson’s last issue is #354, and, after another fill-in, the FF’s next long tenure begins with #356:

Defalco/Ryan

Tom Defalco and Paul Ryan have one of the longer tenures on FF, almost through to the end of the first series, as Ryan stays through issue #414, and Defalco leaves with the final issue, #316 — a total of five years, almost as long as Byrne’s. In some ways, it’s a lot like the current Jonathan Hickman FF: lots of cosmic ideas thrown against the wall to see what sticks, lots of  time-traveling/alternate universe versions of the characters, a major death (Defalco and Ryan “killed” Reed in FF #381, and didn’t bring him back for two years), and a conscious attempt to generate a buzz and a sense of wonder. That’s never quite worked for me in the Hickman stories, and it didn’t with Defalco/Ryan either: while they aren’t bad, they never resonate, and come off as competent-but-standard superhero stuff. Looking back, that might have been an age thing: Defalco’s broad moral themes and extra-emphatic dialogue, which looked like faux Stan Lee to me, would have seemed perfectly acceptable to younger readers; I’ll bet there are fans who grew up reading comics during the mid-’90s who have fond memories of those books. Next to a lot of Marvel’s other output of the period — scratchy attempts to ape Image comics, and barely-literate scripting with one-dimensional villains — the clear, heroic soap operas of Defalco and Ryan look like War and Peace.

Heroes Reborn

In 1996, Marvel outsourced production of four of their books (Iron Man, Captain America, Avengers and FF) to creators associated with Image comics, in a stunt not that far from DC’s current New 52. The result was FF Volume 2, leading off with a 40-page first issue with plot and pencils by Jim Lee (See? A lot like DC’s New 52…). Lee continued as penciller (with Brandon Choi scripts) for the first six issues of the 13-issue run, bowing out to Brett Booth (with some assist from Ron Lim) in issues 7-12. This version of the FF, a combination Elseworlds story and reboot, has a damp-fireworks arc — flashy start, quick descent, wet fizzle at the end — although the 13th issue, a crossover with the others that leads back to the “real”Marvel universe — is by James Robinson and later FF artist Mike Wieringo, and is worth a look.

Heroes Return

Volume 3 of the FF starts immediately after the end of Heroes Reborn, and touts a back-to-basics approach; the initial issue has art by Alan Davis, and a script by Scott Lobdell — another connection to DC’s 52, albeit one that readers of his titles like Red Hood and the Outlaws or Teen Titans might not find particularly positive. By issue #4, though, Chris Claremont has taken over the scripting, and Davis has been replaced by Salvador Larroca. That team stays on the book for a while — through issue #32 — but, truth be told, it’s hard to remember, solid but unspectacular. There’s the introduction of the adult Valeria, Reed and Sue’s second child from an alternate universe, and a long arc where Reed ends up in Doom’s armor somehow, but that’s all that remains in my memory.

The next FF era sees Carlos Pacheco coming onboard as writer/artist with issues #35 – 41; he stays on after that as writer/plotter, sometimes with different artists and sometimes with himself, through issue #49, while issues #50-54 feature Mark Bagley pencils. Issues #57-59 have a story by one of my favorite comics people, the woefully underappreciated Adam Warren, with Keron Grant on pencils; it plays with the idea that all the skin cells the Thing sheds can grow to become independent zombie-like clones, and it’s both creepy and fun.

Waid/Wieringo

Speaking of fun, a major high point in FF history starts with issue #60: the Mark Waid/Mike Wieringo era, one that’s comparable to the Byrne and Simonson runs. That first issue is a special promotional deal — the cover price is 9 cents, although it’s a full regular comic — and it’s a good introduction to the charms of its creators: a story that nails the FF’s reason for existing, emphasizes their deep family connections and affection, and gives a reason for Reed’s formation of the team that’s simultaneously surprising, poignant and dead-on reasonable. Similar pleasures abound in the rest of the run: Wieringo’s charming, clean-lined, expressive art; Waid’s remarkable instinct for what makes the characters tick, leading to lots of fun and dramatic interaction between Ben and Johnny, between Johnny and Sue, etc.; a memorable and epic battle with a revitalized and deadly Dr. Doom (that’s in issues #67-71, except that #71 reverts back to the original numbering for #500); the FF taking over Latveria in Doom’s absence; the death of Ben Grimm, and a trip to the outskirts of heaven to revive him, culminating in a meeting with God, who turns out to look exactly like… well, it’s in issue #511, the conclusion of the storyline started back in #67/496, and it’s just about perfect. It reads like a swan song, and might have been (then-publisherBill Jemas had, somehow, decided that the FF should be a suburban family engaged in wacky hijinks, with Reed played like Rick Moranis in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, and when Waid balked at this clever plan, Jemas canned him; however, reaction to the move ended up, in a rare victory for a creator over a corporate suit, getting Jemas ejected, while Waid stayed on), but Waid and Wieringo continue through issue #524, the end of an unusual, interesting take on Galactus, and another perfect ending. As such, it’s the perfect place to end this post,, too; next time, we’ll try to finish the FF, and see what looms ahead in the letter “E….”