This is one of the very best comics of 2020 for me, maybe in the top three, standing with another volume they also made, Reckless, which I picked as the very best, but that's really just splitting hairs.
Pulp announces itself as a western. A tall handsome white dude with a wide-rimmed--okay, “cowboy” or probably more appropriately, Stetson--hat on the cover. Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips do crime, usually set in an urban setting. And the second image and one early section subtitle does identify the setting as a city, on an ocean. It's NYC, 1939. We know this is the time of the rise of Nazi Germany, the advent of WWII, but we leave that fact for a time.
We begin reading a thirties pulp comic, a western, featuring a couple robbers, who are a bit like Robin Hood in that they target the rich, never the needy. One of the two guys looks like the guy on the cover, images that are familiar to lovers of westerns--Shane, Clint Eastwood's Josey Wales, John Wayne, cowboys who kids would historically have seen as heroes. Then we shift to Max, in late thirties Manhattan, who also looks like an older version of the guy on the cover, a comics guy selling his pulp western comics issue by issue to some publisher underpaying him in some comics office in Manhattan.
Brubaker and Phillips, like Matt Kindt and Jeff Lemire and others who are the best in comics writing today, are also comics historians with a fondness for the pulp tradition, which they are endeavoring to advance even as they are paying homage to their predecessors. In some volumes of Criminal, Brubaker features kids reading comics (and in one a kid reads actual westerns) or in Bad Weekend we read the story of an older comics creator, now in some decline, appearing at a comics convention, seen as both deeply flawed and yet still a great storyteller and artist.
In Pulp, Max makes Western (cowboy) comics based on the time at the turn of the century when he was actually himself an outlaw, robbing people. Now, twenty years later, he is with Rosa and her daughter, he's trying to support them, but he also has a heart condition. The comics sales aren't bringing in much cash; he considers going back, even briefly, to the old and more lucrative life, and committing a heist.
While trying to pull this job off in NYC, a former nemesis from Pinkertons (a detective agency) who had tailed him in the west but failed to nab him all these years ago, a Jew, talks him out of the job but invites him instead to get involved in a heist of an American pro-Nazi campaign in NYC. As Brubaker makes clear, there was a lot of support for Nazis and a lot of anti-semitism in this country at that time. "Great" American "heroes" such as Henry Ford and Charles Lindberg among millions of other Americans were Nazi sympathizers, anti-semites. Groups in this country met to give money to Hitler in his campaign to murder Jews. Do good things happen to aging "bad" guys such as Max? You'll see.
So as with Brubaker and Phillips's Fadeout regarding the "Golden Age" of Hollywood, we get to see the underbelly of American history during this period when history books only list the USA as liberators (we were indeed part of that effort, no question, but that's just not the whole story; as with Lincoln and slavery, there was a process that we went through before we took the lead in ending Hitler's campaign and freeing Jews from those camps during the Holocaust). As Max finally says about his own thievery and the creation of his own (heroic) cowboy westerns, it was complicated, and he admits he romanticized history to sell comics. He (maybe) did some good in taking down some nasty rich guys when he was an outlaw cowboy, but as he admits, he also was a killer. The truth is always more complicated than history or comics history usually tells it.
Masterful, as always.