Before EC, before His Name is…Savage! , before underground comix, this volume collects a pioneering attempt ― from the creators of the first true crime comic ― to publish stories aimed at adults in the comic book format. From their inception in 1935, comic books ― starring Superman, Batman, Captain Marvel ― had been primarily written for and aimed at adolescents. There were always the occasional outlier artists who pushed back against the commercial constraints of comic books and envisioned the next evolutionary artistic leap in the artform: Charles Biro was one of those artists. In 1949, the ambitious Biro ― who had previously co-created the realistically brutal comic Crime Does Not Pay ― edited and wrote an oversized comic aimed at adults, called Tops . Like several other radical adult comics projects that would follow, it proved to be a commercial failure and lasted only two Life magazine-sized issues. The original comics have since become a legendary holy grail among comics fans and historians, fetching as much as $6,000 on the collector's market: written about but rarely seen and never reprinted. Until now. Fantagraphics' Tops collects both issues of these oversized experimental comics in their entirety. Some of the best craftsmen working in comics at that time drew these pulpy, sexy, and melodramatic stories: Dan Barry, George Tuska, and others. It includes two stunning pre-EC crime tales illustrated by Reed Crandall, reminiscent of his Crime SuspenStories work. Actor Melvyn Douglas (believe it or not) takes the reader on a tour of utopia, entitled "How Would You Live Under A World Government?" ― a positive spin on global Socialism! A treasure trove of fascinating and revelatory comics history for scholars and fans, this compilation includes an introduction by the editor, the historian and cartoonist Michael T. Gilbert, as well as several other essays providing background on the creation of the series and the publisher, editors, and cartoonists who realized it. It includes a chronicle in essay form of experimental, adult comics endeavors throughout the first half of the 20th century. Tops is a landmark work of historical importance and a mind-boggling reading experience from a bygone era meticulously restored and reproduced in a deluxe hardcover in its originally published dimensions. Full-color illustrations throughout
Like editor/author Michael T. Gilbert, I've been waiting to read these comics since the 1960s, when Bill Spicer's GRAPHIC STORY MAGAZINE described TOPS in one of his groundbreaking columns on the unfulfilled potential of comic books. In the ensuing decades, I've only seen one copy of TOPS and it was not in condition to be read. Not exactly legendary, but of strong historical interest, TOPS has finally gotten the treatment it deserves in this beautiful Fantagraphics volume that reprints both issues in their original size, accompanied by informative, erudite essays (including a reprint of the Spicer column) on the history of Charles Biro's experiment and the writers and artists who contributed to it.
The actual contents of TOPS are, frankly, not great graphic storytelling, despite the presence of Reed Crandall and other Golden Age stars among the artists. Biro's regular comics are notably literate and layered and TOPS features more of the same. The magazine apparently did not attract readers and one reason seems likely to be that the contents are diverse -- crime, romance, current events -- where most popular newsstand fare had long ago segregated its contents by genre. What is truly innovative here is that TOPS is clearly about the medium, a bold attempt to make comic stories into mainstream, grown-up culture, with content secondary to the form. My favorite piece is the biography of "reformer" Anthony Comstock, almost standing in as a surrogate for a certain Harlem psychiatrist who was sharpening his axe for comic books in 1949.
Kudos to Gilbert et al for rescuing an almost lost piece of comic book history, maybe even a branch of an alternate history wherein Illustories and Pictofiction competed with LIFE and paperback racks for adult eyes.
Lev Gleason was one of the more sophisticated and politically involved publishers of comics in the 1940s, and in 1949 he published two issues of TOPS, an attempt at presenting a comics magazine aimed at adults. This big book reprints both issues in their original size, along with plenty of articles and subsidiary material.
The book includes a 1967 essay by Bill Spicer about the series, which points to the way the series missed its mark. As adept as Gleason and his creative director Charles Biro were at aiming comics to teens, they missed the mark here. They presented the same sort of material they had traditionally, but with all the edginess filed down, leading to a hopelessly bland presentation. They might have compensated by adapting some truly experimental prose (of which there was no shortage in 1949), but they did not move in that direction either.
I've been curious about this series for many years, once I'd heard about it, and Michael William Gilbert did a wonderful job with a gorgeously produced historical document of a creative failure.
A top notch reproduction of the Short Lived Tops, most of the stories are well written and still hold up, some decidedly do not. A wonderful look back at the past with the advertisements included, Art all quite good.
A nicely preserved collection of an attempted comic for a mature market. Biro figured the kids and later solders who read comics would be growing up, and tried to offer a tabloid-sized book with grown-up material. Result was a bit of a mish-mash of crime, romance, and humor, and a bit of a slog to read. But they worked in a biography of famed bluenose Anthony Comstock, a text filler crime story by Dashiell Hammett, and a story "narrated" by actor Melvyn Douglas about "How Would YOU Live Under a World Government?" (Spoiler: he's actually for it). The larger size would have required it to be displayed away from regular comics, and its 25¢ cover price (when all other comics were still one dime) should have given newsdealers a better return for carrying it. Could this have held on and become successful? Could it have launched more large comic magazines in separate genres? We'll not know, as publisher Lev Gleason pulled the plug after two issues.