When I saw American Comics: A History on the New Books shelf at the local college library and briefly thumbed through its 570 pages, I thought to myself, “Ooooh…here’s my next five-star book for GoodReads.” But after reading it, I was disappointed and debated whether to rate it three or four stars. I ended up giving it four stars, but with reservations.
First, the good points:
When the titles states “A History of Comics,” that’s not an overstatement. The narrative starts with the earliest examples of printed illustrations in America that can be classified as comics or proto-comics, then moves on to the origins of the comic strip, and then to comic books. From that point, the emphasis is on the comic book, but later developments in the comic strip and other media where comics appear, are still discussed. Author Jeremy Dauber’s knowledge is extensive and encyclopedic. A truly comprehensive and complete history would necessitate a book at least two or three times as long, but the range of coverage in this book is impressive.
That brings me to the second strength: the author’s in-depth knowledge of the history of the field, including artistic analysis, political and cultural influences, and knowledge of the business of producing and making money from comic art. (An indication of how well-researched this book is, is in the 120 pages of end notes and references.)
But that brings to mind my first criticism:
In presenting such a wide-ranging history, the depth of the narrative and analysis often feels lacking. After reading only cursory mentions of so many strips and comic book titles, I was reminded of the opening to the Bugs Bunny Comedy Hour, when all the Warner Brother cartoon characters march across the stage and then off of it. There are in-depth discussions of some landmark strips and titles (Dick Tracy, Superman and Batman, EC horror titles, the early 1960's “Marvel Age), but there are other titles I had always thought of as groundbreaking and important that get short shrift. (I thought the discussion of the original Captain Marvel was too short, and I was sorry there was no mention of Plop, the odd DC weird-humor title from the 1970's.)
When I first picked up this volume and thumbed through it, I was startled to see that while the narrative starts more-or-less in the early 1800’s, by page 150—one-third of the way through the text—we’re already into the early 1960's. In other words, the author devotes 150 pages to the first 160 years, and 300 pages to the last 60 years. I would rather the author have switched this around. Maybe this is because of my own personal history with comics. The first comic book I ever read was a Batman comic in 1961, when I was in first grade. I became a comic book junkie in the 1960's, mainly with DC and Marvel, but also with Charlton, Harvey, Dell/ Gold Key and all the other companies publishing then, including underground comix. I became aware of Golden Age (i.e., 1940's) comics from reprints, and I thought comics really had a flowering in the 1970's when artists like Berni Wrightson, Michael Kaluta, Mike Ploog, Michael Golden, Jim Aparo, Neal Adams, Rich Corben, and so many others, were in their heyday. I lost interest in comic books when the continuity of what I’d grown up with went out the window, and visual pizzazz replaced storytelling, and when nihilism replaced the (admittedly simplistic and maybe even corny) mythology that had made comic books so popular in the first place.
And that’s my next criticism of American Comics: much of those last 300 pages are devoted to what seems to me mostly fringe products—the avant-garde, and the experimental, almost all of it negative, gloomy, and depressing. I read to the end, wondering how Dauber was going to treat the current state of the comic industry—the wave of “woke” comics that don’t sell and seem to be dooming the traditional comic book industry. But Dauber doesn’t mention this, except to extol the “progressive” woke trend and endorse it as the way things should be. In my opinion, this ignores the whole reason why comics rose to such a prominent form of pop culture in the first place.
My final criticism may strike others as nit-picking spitefulness, but I am a high school English teacher—when people ask me what I do for a living, I tell them I hold back the rising tide of ignorance and mediocrity—and I value the ability to write the English language with precision. So I was surprised and (after a while) annoyed with the less-than-precise writing style of an author who is a professor of Jewish literature and American culture at Colombia University. I finished reading American Comics a week ago, and what still sticks in my mind as particularly grating are the continually incorrect use of colons and semi-colons, and the abundance of sentence fragments. Given the degree of research that went into the writing of this volume, such lapses of standard grammar and mechanics are surprising and disappointing.
But in conclusion, I ended up giving American Comics: A History four stars, from the sheer size of Dauber’s work, and even with the criticisms I mentioned, I nevertheless recognize this volume as a huge and valuable contribution to the subject.