"Secrets in the Shadows: The Art & Life of Gene Colan" by Tom Field

"Gene's work is like the seam on a black stocking -- a glimpse of it leads you to want to see more, and yet you can't, and you're seduced into looking harder. This has to be played softly; it should never look like it's trying too hard."

- from the introduction by Glen David Gold

When I read the above quote in the introduction to "Secrets in the Shadows: The Art & Life of Gene Colan" I realized why I have always been attracted to Colan's artwork. In the overly exaggerated 4 colour world of comic book art where the standard was set by the bold, forceful graphics of Jack Kirby, and later evolved into the more aggressive, "in your face" styles of hotshot artists like Rob Liefeld or Todd McFarland, Gene Colan stands apart with his subtle, atmospheric tones and the soft interplay of light and shadows. It is often said that a great storyteller won't just "show you" what's going on but rather draw you into their world. This is the source of Gene Colan's greatness. And he doesn't beat you over the head with it! His pencils can convey so much through mood and impression; whether it is the mysterious astral plane of Doctor Strange or down foggy alleyways in search of Dracula, Colan's art can give you a wonderfully disoriented and decidedly creepy feeling!


As I've mentioned before, I tend to shy away from biographies... but I will read them when they lean more toward an insightful career retrospective. "Secrets in the Shadows" is a terrific example of this. Sure, a significant chunk of the opening part of the book is biography but even it is supplemented by lots of early artwork and meaningful anecdotes. Fields presents a delightful contrast, introducing us to an extremely timid and fretful boy -- afraid of the dark, the dead, and even afraid of an antique chair! -- who became the man whose name would be forever linked with one of the most evil characters in all of horror. Without dallying too long, the book gives us a quick but succinct account of Colan's early days in the military and as a young artist in the burgeoning comics industry in the 50s and 60s. Then we get to the reason we all came to the party: his work at Marvel.

The real "prize inside" of the book are the chapters "in conversation" with Colan and his greatest collaborators: Stan Lee, Tom Palmer, Steve Gerber, and his wife, Adrienne Colan. Here you get a glimpse of "Gentleman Gene" and the people who understood his talent and helped to bring out the best in his work. Until I read this book, I guess I never realized how misunderstood and under appreciated Colan's art is, and how viciously maligned it was by a few well known comic creators. (Suffice to say I lost a lot of respect for John Byrne after reading this book!) The book also includes a fun little experiment wherein different artists (including Byrne!) attempt to ink over Colan's pencils, showing what a difficult task that can be, surely giving fans a renewed appreciation for the skills of Tom Palmer! One piece in the book that I found particularly interesting shows the same scene from "Stewart the Rat" done by artist Tom Sutton and as done by Colan, effectivley illustrating the difference in pacing and storytelling technique.

Whether you're a fan or a detractor of Colan's art, "Secrets in the Shadows" will help you gain a greater appreciation of his unique style. There's really no secret as to which camp I belong... and this seems like a good time to show off a piece from my personal collection: a Gene Colan original featuring Dr Strange vs Dracula!

The end of the affair?

This coming Saturday, May 2nd, is Free Comic Book Day. So what better time than this to stop and reflect on my long, sordid relationship with comic books and to make a startling confession....

I'm falling out of love with comics.

But, it wouldn't be the first time.

My on-again, off-again affair with comic books started as many relationships do: I was young, naive and lonely.

Actually, I was probably only about 8 or 9 years old when my brother gave me a stack of his old cast-off 70s DC comics. Mostly Green Lantern (my God, Hal Jordan seemed handsome back then!) and The Flash. Admittedly, I don't think I had any idea what the stories were even actually about but they seemed to open up a strange, new, almost underground kind of world to me. I was intrigued by the bold, colourful artwork; the iconic look of the characters; the inexplicable little melodramas; and those strange advertisements were completely fascinating. (X-ray specs? Sell "Grit"? Keep on Truckin' iron-on t-shirts?) Probably around this same time, our local tv station started airing re-runs of the old "Marvel Super-Heroes" cartoon. It was shown weekdays around 5pm and very early on Saturday morning and I watched it religiously. My favourite was Iron Man, although it seemed like they'd always re-run the Hulk way too much! Say what you like about the animation, I still have a soft place in my heart for those jerky, choppy, traced Kirby panels being dragged across the screen (which seemed archaic even back then!)

Inevitably, as the saying goes when I got a bit older I "put away childish things" and lost interest in comic books. My time was filled with other distractions: I got more heavily into "grown-up" books (like "Interview With the Vampire" and Mervyn Peake's "Gormenghast" trilogy!), music, and of course, chasing boys. At that awkward, self-conscious age I tried to sever all ties to anything childish. Ironically, it was when I started high school, when most kids tend to gravitate toward more mature interests, that I was again seduced by comic books. This time I was hooked-up by a friend.

In high school I struck up a short-lived friendship with a girl in my Art class who collected Spider-Woman comics. (I say "short-lived friendship" because she moved away the following year and we subsequently lost touch). Whenever we'd hang out, we'd walk down to a local used bookstore and flip through old, dog-eared comics. I started buying cheap horror comics, like Charlton's "Ghost Manor". Honestly, they were bad. The artwork and stories were lacking, and the magazines themselves were in terrible condition. To my teenage mind there was nothing childish or immature about horror comics (yeah right!) so by reading them I was somehow being cool & alternative. Such are the delusions of youth! In retrospect, horror comics were my gateway drug: they got me back into comics again. On one of those nights rummaging through the used comic bins I found something interesting. My new drug of choice: The Joker.

Although I've never been much of a "collector", I became smitten with The Joker & sought out any comic that he appeared in -- any I could find and afford, that is! Again, my teenage mind made excuses: The Joker is cool. He's a homicidal lunatic -- there's nothing childish or geeky about collecting Joker comics. Sure. In my quest for more Joker comics, I graduated from the used bookstores to the local comic shop. It was located above another business, on the second floor. Through a poorly marked door, then up a steep staircase: there was the musty smell of paper and all kinds of new and exciting things I'd never even heard of there. And people hung out there all the time, like it was some kind of secret club (like the Masons -- for nerds!). This was very indie and underground, I told myself. It was a good time to be collecting Joker comics though: Alan Moore's "The Killing Joke" was released around that time.

All the money I earned in my part-time job as dishwasher and kitchen bitch went into comic books. I started branching out, collecting Wolverine (OMG! No one does that!) and The Punisher. My best friend at the time starting collecting "Heavy Metal", which we read without a hint of irony and for some reason didn't think were all that smutty. Being the 80s, we inevitably got into grading our collections as "Fine", "Very Good" or "Mint" (we really had no idea!) and putting little price tags as to what each issue was worth. It was around this time that the allure of comics began to fade for me. With variant covers, multi-title crossovers, holographic foil gimmicks, barrel-chested heroes with huge ridiculous guns... my "secret life" with comic books seemed less & less like love's innocent dream and more like a heartless money-sucking burden. So comics & I went our separate ways.

It was an amicable split. I checked in on them from time to time just to see how they were doing. It wasn't until many years later, after I met my husband, that I rekindled the flame with comics. He introduced me to Mike Allred comics, which were a bit like how I remember comics used to be... only updated, and with a bit more heart. Again, I was attracted to non-super powered characters like the meditative Dr. Strange and wise-cracking Hawkeye of the Avengers (although I can't delude myself into thinking they're in any way "indie").

But as everything comes around goes around, so comics too seem to be heading in the direction they were in the early 90s: huge summer "must read" blockbusters, multi-title crossovers, hot-shot creators dictating the "house style", unnecessary "deaths" of beloved characters... and again I feel the romance is drying up for me. I find myself philandering: my roving eye has been checking out "indie" and alternative comics more and more and I find myself getting more satisfaction from the likes of Harvey Pekar and Daniel Clowes than from the superhero set. (Plus I can read graphic novels for free from the library, so there's no commitment or money burden either.)

Of course I plan to take part in Free Comic Book Day, hoping to find the next thing that will captivate my interest. My relationship with comics plays out like a Billie Holiday song. Maybe "This is my Last Affair"...?


http://www.freecomicbookday.com/