"One of the most moving and compelling human stories to emerge out of the graphic story medium."―Alan Moore This award-winning tale, set in the height of the Great Depression, received rave reviews long before graphic novels became the phenomenon they are today. Hailed as one of the top 100 comics of all time by The Comics Journal , Kings in Disguise now reemerges as a classic. It is January 1932, and movie-loving Freddie Bloch is trading his father's liquor bottles for the cost a matinee: "Dreams were only a dime, but empty bottles [only] brought a penny apiece." When his father disappears and his brother gets arrested, Freddie finds himself homeless and adrift, trying to survive during the Detroit labor riots and amid the furor of violent, anti-communist mobs. Winner of the Eisner Award and the Harvey Award for Best New Series and an additional Eisner Award for Best Single Issue.
Award-winning writer whose career has embraced forms ranging from graphic novels to live theater and journalism. His 1988 graphic novel Kings in Disguise (with artist Dan Burr) was honored with the Eisner and Harvey awards -the Oscars of their field- and its reissue in 2006 was hailed as one of that year's ten top comics events by Time.com. His other comics work includes the whimsical Mr. Hero adventure series, and stories for the Batman, Aliens and Predator franchises. A multiple winner of national awards for playwriting, he was commissioned to write the drama "Halls of Ivory" as an official event of the Bicentennial Celebration of the United States Constitution. His play "Stations" was chosen to represent the United States at the International Theater Festival in Monte Carlo. He was commissioned to write a monograph in conjunction with the Smithsonian Institution touring exhibit "Climbing Jacob's Ladder," and his script for the related television documentary "Hope is the Last Thing to Die" was honored by the National Conference of Christians and Jews. In collaboration with his late wife Kate Worley, he has written a novel for the mystery market, and is presently at work on a new book in a similar vein. Working with artist Reed Waller, he is also shepherding Kate's all-new conclusion to the popular Omaha the Cat Dancer comics series into print. Once again working with Dan Burr, Vance is currently completing a sequel to Kings in Disguise. Titled On the Ropes, that sequel will be issued by W.W. Norton in the near future.
This is more of a 3.5 for me but I feel bad beating up on a book that's made professionally and sides with the angels. It's a rambling, disjointed account of a young boy's experiences as a hobo during the Great Depression—a story that ends up both fascinating and a bit paint-by-numbers. Train-hopping, bulls with billy clubs, communism and anti-communism, bean cans and newsboy hats. It's all sincere and filled with shades of compelling stories, but it never really gripped me. I partly blame the intrusive and not whole necessary narration, written in an overly florid style ill-fitting the rest of the book.
Dan Burr's art is very good illustration, but it's a fairly pedestrian take on the comic book medium. Much of it simply illustrates the plot more than it supplants or provides it.
Anyway, I'm an asshole for not absolutely loving this, I get it.
A great but sad story. Makes it’s way through many events and typical stories of the Great Depression. My favorite aspect was the characters constantly on the move, running away and running to. It put me in the mood to read Huckleberry Finn.
really nice classic-but-not-stuffy art, and the central story (young adult hobo in the depression) satisfied overall but from panel to panel it felt jumbled and i never really gave a shit about sam the tubercular guy, or never really understood why i was supposed to. not sure what this has to say that isn't said better in eisner, but it's solid
Considered one of the early graphic novel classics that paved the way for stories beyond the usual superheroes and comedy sketches, this is the coming of age tale set in the background of the Great Depression in the U.S. as serve as an antithesis of the American Dream, being a 'rags to rags' story, as Alan Moore so eloquently calls it in the preface. It reminded me of Grapes of Wrath, the classic from Steinbeck, in its bleak portrayal of the devastating impact the Great Depression had on human lives and their dignity. Powerful and relentless narrative accompanied by some sterling artwork.
Powerful account of hobo life in the Great Depression, with two compelling characters. For a similar graphic novel, check out Rob Vollmar & Pablo G. Callejo's The Castaways...
Es emocionante y duro a partes iguales ver todo por lo que tiene que pasar el protagonista, Freddie Bloch; su evolución y cómo se ve obligado a madurar siendo aún un niño desde que se ve obligado a abandonar su casa a la edad de 12 años, convirtiéndose en un vagabundo, y nada menos que en la época de la Gran Depresión.
This is a historical graphic novel based on experiences of the Great Depression. It is not biographical but rather designed to show what life was like for many. It shows the desperately poor hobos as well as gives glimpses of those just hanging on. The pictures are clearly drawn and the type is easy to read.
It starts out jumping from one Depression era cliché to another. Once the story slows down, everything gets better and the characters feel a bit more real. I got used to the art, but something about it felt a bit off the whole time.
The art is beyond five stars. Page after page of beautiful linework, each stroke of ink is magnificently rendered. As an illustrator myself, I fell in love with nearly every panel.
Now, the story, I have more to say about.
The story doesn't fill me with triumph or awe, and I don't even necessarily agree with some of the theses the book seemingly presents, but it does fill me with a great deal of lingering thought. It presents a great many questions, few of which have readily available answers.
One thing that stands out to me is that there are few, if any, responsible or stable adults in this book. In large part, this points to the tremendous pressure of the Great Depression, and the manner in which it caused huge portions of the population to buckle into shadows of their former selves.
The protagonist, Freddie, watches his father lose his job, succumb to alcoholism, and ultimately run out on his two sons. He continues to write to them promising he's searching for a job, but all he succeeded in doing is making their situation worse, including taking all the money in the house when he left.
Sam, the self-proclaimed "King of Spain" in the disguise of a hobo, becomes Freddie's traveling companion and protector. In many ways, he is an echo of the failings of Freddie's father, and even relates to the feelings of inadequacy that caused him to flee -- he, too, ran out on his fiancée, out of shame for his perceived failure to find steady and sustaining employment.
Sam's fiancée is a figure whom he clearly idealizes, and when we finally meet her she does seem much more functional than most of the adult cast. But though she forgives Sam for running out on her, she seems to place the blame on other figures, such as his own father figure (another hobo who claims to be Jesse James) and even thirteen-year-old Freddie, who becomes a target of misdirected jealousy and whom she seems reluctant to even speak to.
Other adult characters are mostly hobos, figures who either help or hinder Freddie on his journey. The narrative extends a degree of sympathy and humanity to all of them, as a great deal of the story's thesis relies on the idea that anyone can fall victim to hard times and be battered into a lesser version of themself.
Mostly, this was effective, but it pointedly fell apart for me when the narrative appeared to extend a degree of sympathy to Joker, a hobo who had attempted to sexually assault Freddie. It seems to ascribe his pedophilia, at least in part, to mental illness developed from being on the road, even paralleled to Sam's drug-induced delusions later in the book (though Sam was never in any way predatory). To me, this feels like a false equivocation: hard times can make many people into a hobo, or even a thief, but certainly not a child rapist. Nor does any degree of mental illness excuse his attempts to prey on Freddie.
Perhaps I'm reading too much into this, but oddly, it feels important to one of the greatest questions to book asks of the reader: how much choice in life do we really have? One of the most haunting moments of the book comes from a simple musing from Freddie, in which he speculates that adventure is simply a rationalization for something "inflicted upon those who couldn't run and hide," and "when we could run no further, the world found us in our hiding places and destroyed us, one by one."
It's in stark contrast to the dreams that sustain Freddie for much of the book -- he is an idealist at heart, and a kindred spirit with fellow dreamer Sam, who also veers between childlike hopefulness and the understandable belief that things will never improve. The book itself offers little by way of optimism, aside from sweet moments of connection between Freddie, Sam, and the people who help them.
However, towards the end of the book, Freddie appears to have a revelation that "making a difference" and "fighting back" are not necessarily forceful actions, but simply making the world a better place. He fixes a child's spinning top -- broken by some bullies Freddie had encountered -- and leaves it for the boy to find, which fills Freddie with a sense of accomplishment. I found this to be one of the most quietly hopeful elements of the novel: it seems to answer, we are not powerless. Even as a young homeless boy, Freddie finds that he can make the world a better place for someone else.
I have more to say, but I'll leave it there for now. I look forward to reading the sequel, and to seeing how it expands on the themes of this book.
Considered one of the best graphic novels written in the US, authored by playwright James Vance. This is a hard tale to read about 12 yr old trying to survive as a hobo in the Great Depression. Some situations are just not explained by the character of suffering, sometimes it just defies explanation. It was an unforgiving time, where fairness was elusive and every man who tried to provide for his family was faced with the daily possibility of destruction, failure, humiliation and being ostracized. It seems a good dose of imagination, often confused with madness, actually came in handy - reminds me of Viktor Frankl's SEARCH FOR MEANING - beware of loving tangible things. I'm glad I read it, not sure how you could "recommend" it, but it is powerful. This was a time before we decided that all relationships are based on power - the politics today insist there is no love, friendship, decency, just exploitation and power between the sexes- a zero sum game - thank you Foucault. This book depicts the acts of selfless decency coming from a place of genuine love that I often wonder would probably be ridiculed today, maybe even not believed. Yet, the Great Depression was hell on earth for so many.
Think about every human story you've seen. It's always rags to riches, or riches to rags. There are no stories about rags to rags because "What's the point in those stories?" you may ask. "Aren't stories supposed to teach us about overcoming impossible challenges?" Well, as Alan Moore pointed out in the introduction of this book, all the dramas in the world are magnified by poverty so that the loss of a few coins might mean the difference between life and death. Finding the means to feed your offspring or yourself is a miraculous achievement cause for celebration.
It's a hard life. This book contains a story about the nameless poor whose lives came and went with no meaningful spotlight in history books.
A lengthy magnum opus, set in the era of the Great Depression, and following a boy as he becomes a hobo and travels across the country in search of his father. Moving and heartbreaking, with brief slivers of happiness, don’t expect to feel warm and fuzzy at the end. I especially loved the exceptionally detailed black-and-white illustrations throughout.
Set in the early 30s, a young Jewish boy escapes from his small town to pair off with a an older hobo who calls himself the King of Spain. The evade predators and police and railroad bulls, trying to find a way to survive. Sometimes it can be a difficult read, but it deals with a difficult subject matter and era.
A humanising Huckleberry Finn journey through the great depression. It somewhat hobbled in its initial 40 pages, but that's just part of the joy of reading what feels like a very early graphic novel. The journey evolves, and the writing improves, but each panel is spectacular, cover to cover.
Set during the Great Depression, a 12-year-old boy is left on his own and goes off to become a hobo. This is really bleak and never really gets any better or even really ends. Life just keeps going on, like real life. It's interesting with really detailed artwork.
Just a really well put together book. I appreciate the subtleties. Sometimes I feel like a writer is hitting me over the head with their points. I felt respected to pick up on things on my own. Looking forward to the sequel.
An early example of long-form graphic fiction that isn't about superheros. Gives a nice feel of the lives of the poor and homeless during the Great Depression. Very wordy for a graphic novel.
A less than satisfying prequel to On the Ropes: A Novel, and in many ways it is the same book lacking the melodramatic labor organizer subplots that propelled Ropes and the sharply defined characters doing their best to survive a world that no longer needs them. The runaway success of the stage version of Ropes in the late 1970s led Vance to write a one act stage play of Kings a decade later to satisfy his fans and his own curiosity about what propelled Bloch onto the road. Kings is an expanded graphic novel adaptation of that play.
I suppose my biggest complaint is that this isn't a book that needed to be written. Even after reading the preface by Vance I can't say that I have a clear view of what purpose this book serves. It is a prequel only in the sense that the events here take place in the closing year of the Hoover administration, where the Depression economy really hit bottom. Where Ropes was an intentional copy of the 1930's genre of "Problem Pictures", and so required coincidence and melodrama to tell its story, Kings is a flat balloon of a plot, that just appears to drift from one situation to another. The young Bloch that we meet here is a victim who contrasts poorly with the highly principled and heroic Bloch of Ropes. The essential injustice of labor relations that gave Ropes a purpose devolve into illustrations of poverty and the dangers of bumming. This leaves the book without a center, which leads to there being no actual antagonist excepting the terrible state of the nation. Kings is simply a series of vignettes without purpose. Several episodes are so poorly thought through that it is obvious Vance was just working stuff out as he went and went with the first thought that crossed his mind.
This is a strange and flat book that just should have been better. Also, the art here does not serve the story. I am not sure why, but O'Barr made only small adjustments to his adult male characterizations, giving them a nearly uniform appearance and affect that is tiring and confusing. There are much better books out there about the Depression era and the troubles of being poor, and this book borrows some excellent pieces from those better books, but contributes nothing of its own.
Almost two hundred pages take the reader on a trek with Freddie, a twelve year old boy who left home when his father left him and his older brother to fend for themselves in the ‘Hungry Thirties.’ He had no mother and his father was financially at the end of his rope. As his father left he mentioned going to Detroit to seek work at one of the auto plants in ‘Motor City.’ In desperation Freddie later sets out to attempt finding his father in Detroit, riding the rails from town to town and surviving by the graces of hobos down on their luck. He soon becomes the sidekick of Sam, a sickly drifter who is emotionally unstable. The lack of jobs provides fertile soil for communist propaganda to take root. Freddie and Sam get drawn into participating in demonstrations against the powers that be. Sam gets injured and becomes a burden for Freddie but he feels attached and obligated to stick by him through thick and thin.
This is a realistic portrayal of the Great Depression and how it affected large numbers of the population. It is a well written story that lends itself well to the graphic novel format. It is narrated from Freddie’s point of view. He is often lonely, frantic and apprehensive, haunted by eerie dreams. The meticulous artwork is well crafted and helps to convey the stark desperation of individuals on the hunt for a reason to find hope to live for one more day.
I was put off at first by Dan Burr's static drawing style, but then it hit me: this is how we remember the Great Depression. Still photos, Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, all that. Not to mention that everything seemed to shut off and slow down during those dire, hungry times. And then I noticed that Burr's style gets very kinetic when desperate Ford workers are gunned down and beaten by Harry Bennett's goons in Dearborn -- all culminating in a expansive, serene drawing of dead and immobilized workers and glowering goons, with the caption "And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." Beautiful, heartrending stuff.
Vance's story itself seems a bit overdetermined (a major character has two too many miraculous escapes from death, for example), but works perfectly as mythic journey and history recaptured. You don't get too many novels -- graphic or otherwise -- that investigate the hobo experience while remaining sympathetic to Communists.
In fact, this novel features the most inspiring rendition of the Internationale I've ever seen... I added an extra star for that.
It was alright. See, one of the biggest problems with a lot of graphic novel writers, in my opinion, is they let their words speak far more than their art. I'm personally more inclined towards the writers than opt to use as minimal dialogue and narration, while pacing it with the visuals perfectly. Kings in Disguise had its moments, but the last half was so overly-narrative, I started to lose interest. I liked what Sam and the kid had between each other, but the other characters either weren't around long enough for me to develop a liking for them, or were just genuinely uninteresting. I still liked the art and the overall story, but I feel like Vance could tone down on narration and more on visual exposition. Don't tell us that time has passed. Just show the poster with more bullet-holes appearing in it. Again, it's just my opinion. It's still a good story with a strong message on the working class during the Depression, and their different ideals on morality. It's still worth reading.
I read Kings over the weekend. I really liked the book, having read the component issue when they came out 20+ years ago. I saw myself in Freddie's shoes which made his journey all the more dramatic. His traveling companion, The King of Spain, was a decent guy and I would like to believe that though so much of the country was going through such economic devastation, that most people were still humane in their behavior. I never for a moment took for granted that Freddie would survive his travels. I believed that anybody could die at any point along the way, which made for real drama. I also appreciated what wasn't shown. For example the relationship between the other "Jocker" and kid. We know what their relationship was but it wasn't sensationalized. The same for the departure of Freddie from the King's life. We know what was coming and that was enough.