Fluit Notes

Five First Issues of CyberForce

 Fifteen months ago, I took a look at five first issues of Wildcats and Youngblood.  It was appropriate at the time as both of those original Image titles had recently come out with new number ones.  Jason Marconnet, aka Lime Coke, enjoyed those articles so much that he asked me to do a similar survey with other Image or ‘90s titles.  It’s taken me fifteen months to get around to it, but never let it be said that I let down a reader.  So, for Lime Coke, for me, and for everyone else, here are reviews of five first issues of Marc Silvestri’s creation CyberForce, and it’s spin-off StykeForce.   

 

CyberForce #1 (1992)

by Marc and Eric Silvestri

 

Welcome to the Image Revolution!  Marc Silvestri was one of seven artists who left Marvel Comics in 1992 in order to take control of their own careers and start their own company.  Silvestri had already established himself with popular runs as the regular penciler on Uncanny X-Men and Wolverine.  He even contributed art to the famous X-Men arcade game that debuted out in 1992, helping to define the look of the X-Men for a generation of fans. 

 

For his initial Image title, Marc Silvestri stayed in his comfort zone.  He created a new team called CyberForce.  However, his new team had a lot in common with his old team, the X-Men.  There are five characters featured on the cover of the first issue and each of them bears a strong resemblance to one of the X-Men.  There are a few key differences- Stryker has four arms, Ripclaw is a Native American- but the initial resemblance is- dare I say it- uncanny.  Silvestri even calls his characters “mutants,” though in this case they are also cybernetically enhanced (hence the name, CyberForce). The familiar building blocks aren’t necessarily a problem.  Other characters have grown from imitations, parodies or homages to become fully realized creations such as Captain Marvel, Cerebus, Savage Dragon and The Authority.    

 

Marc Silvestri and his brother Eric craft an interesting world and a strong opening story around these central characters.  That includes some interesting supporting characters.  The first character we meet is Velocity, a teenaged girl on the run from a private military who is rescued by CyberForce’s Ripclaw.  There’s a superficial resemblance to the X-Men’s Jubilee- teenage girl, runaway, befriends the gruff guy with the claws.  However, Velocity has different powers (speed) and a different back-story (she was abused).  We also meet two boys, Chip and Timmie.  Chip is a teenaged genius.  Timmie looks like a little boy, but he’s actually an android.  These younger characters also help give CyberForce their own identity.  They’re more like a band of refugees than a superhero team.

 

Silvestri also introduces a strong cast of villains.  The first is Ballistic, a cybernetically enhanced bounty hunter who is trying to capture Velocity.  Then there’s a reference to Gammerung, either a person or an organization, dedicated to killing mutants.  Next up is Mother May I.  She’s the head of Cyberdata, the organization that claims to have created all of the cyber-mutants and that still wants to control them.  Mother May I is a cyborg herself, with a unique blue Cleopatra look.  She’s one of the best villains in any of the early Image titles.  Finally, Ballistic comes back with an as-yet-unnamed squad of mutant villains who all work as enforcers for Cyberdata.

 

These different villains and supporting characters show that the world of CyberForce is nearly as multi-faceted as our own.  One of the other secondary characters is Bluestone, a mutant running for political office (although there’s some confusion in that he’s running for mayor on one page and then called a senator on another).  That gives us a whole range of mutants and political perspectives- those who are open and attempting to engage in public life, those who are in hiding, those who want to kill them and those who want to capture and control them.  It makes for a much, more complex and interesting world than many other superhero stories.  Altogether, it’s a great introduction to new characters, a new team and a new world.

 

CyberForce #1 (1993)

by Marc Silvestri, Eric Silvestri and Scott Williams

 

Unfortunately, the second CyberForce #1 isn’t as good as the first one.  The main problem is that it’s really a continuation of the recently completed mini-series.  The initial Image titles were all popular.  Some of them were set up as ongoing series from the beginning.  But most had been planned as mini-series.  Youngblood stayed with the original numbering as it extended from a mini-series into an ongoing.  On the other side, Savage Dragon and CyberForce opened up the ongoing series with a new number one. 

 

Yet, despite the new number one, this issue of CyberForce is really part of a continuing story.  Its fine as an installment of a larger story if you’ve already read the initial mini-series and the zero issue that was published in-between.  But it doesn’t really work as a first issue.  The previous first issue shared back-story such as the abuse Velocity experienced as a child.  But that was presented as new information for the reader, even if it’s in the past for the character.  In this issue, the characters also make numerous references to earlier events.  The multiple references make this issue exposition-heavy.  Plus, some of the references are oblique, telling you that something happened in the previous stories but not what.  As a reader, you definitely feel as if you’ve missed something. 

 

This is especially true of a scene in which Stryker apparently attempts to recruit Ballistic into CyberForce.  Stryker explains what happened- they removed an implant that was forcing Ballistic to work for CyberData.  But the scene works much better and carries much greater emotional weight if you’ve read the previous story.  It’s a good piece of Ballistic’s overall arc but it’s an awkward introduction to the character for a new reader. 

 

Another problem is the sub-plot in which Ripclaw is experiencing bad dreams. The visions feature two other people- a man with long green hair and a woman with big red hair.  By the end of the issue, it’s revealed that the green-haired guy is Warblade, from Wildcats, and the red-haired girl is named Misery.  In the back, there’s an ad for an upcoming crossover between CyberForce and Wildcats in which misery splits the two men and the two teams. 

 

It isn’t a bad thing to have a B or C plot setting up storylines down the road.  However, this issue of CyberForce doesn’t really have an A plot.  The other part of the story is a training exercise, helping Velocity acclimate to the team.  The result is that one plot looks back at the previous story and the other plot looks ahead to an upcoming crossover.  Nothing of importance actually happens in this particular issue.  It’s truly a middle issue and not a first issue.  Yet, even as a middle issue, it fails to deliver anything on its own.

 

Codename: StrykeForce #1 (1995)

by Marc Silvestri, Brandon Peterson and Josef Rubinstein

 

Image was wildly successful and many of the initial titles launched spin-offs.  Youngblood led to Brigade, Wildcats to Stormwatch, Savage Dragon to Freak Force.  And yes, CyberForce led to a spin-off team, Codename: StrykeForce.  After clashing with Heatwave over leadership of CyberForce, Stryker struck out on his own.  His new team would be less defensive and more proactive (now where else have we heard that one?).  They would be more like a black ops team, taking the fight to the villains on their own turf.  They would also get paid.  That contradiction aside, this is a very strong opening issue. 

 

The first scene echoes Stryker’s introduction in CyberForce #1.  In that issue, he was assigned to watch Bluestone, the mutant political figure running for mayor.  Stryker saved Bluestone from assassination.  In this issue, Stryker has been paid to watch out for “President Bill” as he listens to a speech by Mikhail Gorbachev.  And yes, once again, Stryker stops an assassination attempt.  It’s a great heroic moment for Stryker, and a strong introduction to the lead character.

 

This first issue also does a good job of introducing the other members of the team.  Their introductions are spread throughout the issue as Stryker calls on them at certain junctures of this mission and the next.  That keeps the reader from being overwhelmed by meeting an entire team all at once.  Marc Silvestri had used a similar effect in the first issue of CyberForce- introducing each member of the team one at a time- but the technique is even more effective here as they’re all connected to one main incident. 

 

First up is Icarus, who flies and looks a lot like Nate Grey.  Then there’s Anvil, one of my favorite characters in the world of CyberForce.  He’s short and squat, built like an anvil and hard as iron.  He’s sort of a mixture of the Thing, Puck and Wolverine but he’s not any one of them.  He is truly his own character.  There’s Bloodbow, an albino, elven archer.  There’s Tempest, the token girl, who apparently has weather powers.  And there’s Killrazor, a villain who’s willing to work with the good guys for a price. 

 

There’s also a super-villain.  In one sense, he’s like every other super-villain, berating his henchmen and cackling about plans to conquer the world.  But Silvestri and company at least try to drape him in mystery.  He refuses to mention his name, telling a group of hostages that they don’t need to know and insisting that all of his lackeys call him “sir.”   It doesn’t make the boss as memorable as CyberForce’s Mother May I- that’s also the downside to not having a name- but it’s at least an attempt to make him different.

 

I also like the Brandon Peterson art.  He does a good job of weaving Silvestri and Jim Lee influences so that this title fits in with the general Image vibe.  His characters are a little more muscled-up than Silvestri’s but that fits the tone of this team.  And he does a great job with panel lay-out and story-telling.  There’s a great contrast on two pages- one which very clearly depicts Gorbachev giving a speech and another which coyly hides “President Bill” in Stryker’s shadow.  There’s also some good action scenes with planes, missiles, submarines and torpedoes.

 

CyberForce had more of a team feeling than StrykeForce.  This is like Stryker and the Jordanaires.  But other than that, it’s a very well done first issue- possibly the best in the batch.

 

Strykeforce #1 (2004)

by Jay Faerber, Tyler Kirkham and Marco Alquiza

 

We go from arguably the best first issue to arguably the worst.  I apologize in advance to all involved.  I’m a huge fan of Jay Faerber’s creator-owned work at Image (Noble Causes, Dynamo 5, Urban Myths) but this Top Cow mini-series is a turkey.  And Tyler Kirkham is a good artist on other titles but it’s hard to defend his work here. 

 

The main problem has to do with the company itself.  It had been a dozen years since CyberForce had hit the stage and nine years since they launched the successful StrykeForce spin-off.  In the meantime, a lot of other things had happened for Marc Silvestri.  CyberForce became a victim of the superhero glut.  There were a lot of titles and a lot of teams.  And CyberForce struggled to remain as popular as the X-Men and the Wildcats or as relevant as Gen13. 

 

Meanwhile, Marc Silvestri expanded his little corner of the Image universe by adding new artists, new characters and new titles.  One of those artists was Michael Turner.  And one of those new characters was Witchblade.  Witchblade was more of a supernatural superhero than CyberForce.  She became very successful, arguably the most popular “bad girl” in comics.  Silvestri slowly transitioned his output to cater to those fans.  CyberForce and StrykeForce made way for Witchblade spin-offs like Darkness or imitations like Aphrodite XI.  The imprint became known as Top Cow and Top Cow became known for “bad girl” art. 

 

By 2004, comic books had bounced back.  The time seemed right for a resurrection of Top Cow’s superhero characters, most of whom had sat on the shelf for several years while Silvestri’s imprint focused on “bad girls” and “good girls” like Witchblade and Tomb Raider. 

 

Unfortunately, Top Cow’s house style infiltrated their newest superhero title as well.  It’s not that the earlier superwomen had been ugly.  Cyblade was drawn to be beautiful and Velocity was cute.  But they pretty much received the same treatment as the guys, and they at least wore full costumes.  That wasn’t the case this time around.  Jay Faerber introduced four new characters to this version of Strykeforce, including two women.  One was Sly who had the power to turn invisible.  Naturally, she could only turn herself invisible and not other objects.  Like her clothes.  Which meant that she spent half of the issue walking around naked.  The other woman was Tia Katana.  Her power was a magic tattoo from which she could draw a sword (or technically, a katana).  However, in order to reach her sword, she had to wear next to nothing (or occasionally nothing) on her torso.  Apparently, just to make sure she was consistent, she also wore next to nothing on her lower half.  That there were in-story reasons for the two women to spend the whole issue half-naked or half the issue completely naked isn’t a defense.  In actuality, it makes it worse.  It shows that they thought they needed an excuse. 

 

It’s such a major flaw that it undercuts an otherwise decent story.  Stryker and his team are hired to rescue some corporate executives who are being held as hostages in the mountain jungles of Peru.  They’re successful.  But they’re wanted by the FBI for being independent operatives.  And the FBI has planted a spy on the team.  That’s a good set-up for a good story.  It’s too bad that Strykeforce couldn’t get out of its own juvenile way.  And Top Cow wonders why it developed its reputation. 

 

Cyberforce #1 (2006)

by Ron Marz and Pat Lee

 

The latest first issue of Cyberforce serves as a retroactive lesson for the 1993 first issue.  By this point, Cyberforce has a long history and Ron Marz has to let the readers know some of that history in order for this issue to make sense.  Then, this is also the first issue in an era when most stories are written, at least partially, for the trade.  So Marz has to look at setting up a longer story over several issues.  That means that this issue has to simultaneously look backward and forward while still being a satisfying issue on its own.  That’s the test that the 1993 issue failed.  But it’s a test that this 2006 issue passes with flying colors.

 

In terms of looking backwards, Marz gathers the three female members of the team for a dinner party.  They’re wearing evening gowns and drinking wine- showing that female characters can look sexy and beautiful, without being exploitative.  They’re drinking to the end of Cyberforce.  The team is fractured and devoid of any future.  The women are agreed: it’s best to end the team now.  There’s just one last piece of business: Ripclaw has gone rabid.  They feel that they need to clean up their own mess, and kill off their own teammate.  The scene certainly shares exposition- for example, we learn that Velocity and Ripclaw had become lovers- but it does so in a way that resonates emotionally.

 

In terms of looking forward, Marz uses the sub-plot to do that.  Marz opens with a scene from a far-space station.  The sentries complain that there’s nothing to do out here on the edge of civilization before being run over by a massive armada.  That oncoming armada hangs over the rest of the story.  How can a dispirited and disbanded Cyberforce stand up to such a force? 

 

Then, the story is satisfying in its own right.  At least one major bit of action is completed in this issue.  The rabid Ripclaw attacks and the three women of Cyberforce- Ballistic, Cyblade and Velocity- fight to take him down.  The rabid Ripclaw appears to have won.  Ballistic and Cyblade have been taken out of the fight.  Ripclaw has Velcoity at his mercy.  He threatens to kill her, or rape her.  And then, another claw bursts through his chest.  The rogue Ripclaw falls to the ground and another Ripclaw is revealed behind him.  The rogue was a faulty imitation.  The real Ripclaw is back and he just might be able to help the women defeat the alien armada that they don’t even know about yet. 

 

That’s both a complete incident- the defeat of the rabid Ripclaw- and also a tease of a larger story yet to be told- the gathering of Cyberforce and the battle against the alien armada.  That makes for a great first issue. 

 

Pat Lee’s art is also perfect for this story.  It’s a little dark and rough around the edges, wonderfully matched to the story of a shabby super-team on its last legs. 

What Age Is It Now Anyway?

I’ve been talking about the ages of comics for the past three columns (if you think I’m being long-winded, you should see all of the stuff I left out).  Either way, I appreciate your perusal and participation.  So far, I’ve speculated as to whether or not Brightest Day and Heroic Age will launch a new age, sided with the broad consensus that there is such a beast as a Bronze Age, and struck out on my own to propose a Fourth Age from 1987-1996.  That leaves the issue of what do we do with the last dozen years or so.  Is it another age? 

If you’ve been reading along, then you already know that my answer is “Yes.”  However, I’ll readily admit that this is my own opinion rather than a widely-accepted theory.   

 There are two major arguments against this being a fifth age.  The first is “everything since **** is just one big age.”  There is some validity to that argument.  Indeed, every new age has had to overcome that perception. 

 Jeff-of-Earth-J had a great quote in response to the first column: "Modern Age" is a term I use for whatever the current age which has not yet been defined. For example, I used to say "Golden Silver and Modern," but now I say "Golden, Silver, Bronze and Modern." 

 This shows that, despite initial resistance, the idea of a defined age of comics can gain acceptance.  The argument would have been at one time, “everything since 1970 (the end of the Silver Age) is just one big age.”  Now, it’s more likely to be “everything since 1986 (the end of the Bronze Age) is just one big age.”  

 However, I argued that the years 1987 to 1996 have all of the features and characteristics of an age, with one notable exception- a widely agreed-upon name.  However, if we were to insert one of the suggested names, we would have Golden, Silver, Bronze, Iron and everything after.  In other words, “everything since 1996 (the end of the Iron Age) is one age.”  

 I’m glad to say that I’m not the only one who has considered this.  In 1997 and ’98, Wildstorm Studios produced a crossover between the X-Men and their own Wildcats.  The story would span several eras of time, reflecting the different ages of comics.  The four issues were the Golden Age, the Silver Age, the Dark Age (one of the other suggested names for the Fourth Age) and the Modern Age. 

 The second major argument against this being a fifth age has to do with sales.  Figserello wrote, “Sales follow successful new storytelling fashions, so the two are interlinked.”  Indeed, the earlier ages are defined not only by peaks in creative output, but also by spikes in sales. 

 That causes a problem for the current age.  After all, current comic book sales pale in comparison with earlier ages.  The best-selling comics of today would be mid-level performers in the ’80s or in danger of cancellation in the ‘60s. 

  However, I don’t think that necessarily precludes the possibility of a fifth age.  For one thing, an age is not necessarily a direct comparison between peaks.  By that definition, the Silver Age wouldn’t count as an Age either.  After all, the sales of the Silver Age were one-fifth of the sales of the Golden Age.  Similarly, the Bronze Age peak may not have been as high as the peak of the Silver Age but it was still a peak compared to the years that had come between.   

On the other hand, the last fifteen years have given us a valley and a peak that help shape the ages of comics.  The years of 1997-99 had the lowest comic book sales in history.  They’re so low that I wouldn’t even include them in an age.  They’re kind of like the years between the Golden and Silver Ages (which saw great sales in other genres but the near-extinction of superheroes) and the years between the Silver and Bronze Ages (according to some definitions).  In contrast, the years 2000-2007 saw seven straight years of growth.  That’s something that hadn’t happened since the Golden Age (the Silver Age’s best stretch was 4 years).

 Another issue is that sales contrasts across eras are not apple-to-apple comparisons.  Silver Age numbers are based on the number of issues printed for returnable newsstand distribution and could be double the number of issues actually sold.  Current numbers are based on issues sold to the direct market- while ignoring subscriptions, newsstand distribution and international sales- and could be half of the actual number of issues sold.  I’m not saying that current comics sell as well as Silver Age comics.  They don’t.  But the gap isn’t as great as some observers would have you believe.  Plus, modern comics are also sold in trade paperbacks, a secondary market that extends shelf-life and raises readership. 

 The current age may not be as commercially successful as the Silver Age, but that doesn’t have to mean it’s not an age at all.

 I think it is.  I think the sales are part of the story (including the seven straight years of growth that I mentioned previously).  I think the expansion of the market is part of the story.  Comics have expanded into new genres, new formats and new territories.  The last decade has seen the explosion of manga, trade paperbacks and bookstore sections devoted to comics.  You can even buy comics in airport terminals. 

 Of course, it’s not only about sales.  It’s also about style. 

 Luke Blanchard asked (yes, I’m quoting Luke again; sorry, Luke), “Is there the same kind of contrast between superhero comics of today and of fifteen years ago as there was between the superhero comics of the mid-70s and those of the early 60s?”

 I think so.  Modern comics have very different features than Iron Age comics.  Comics of the early ‘90s were often fast-paced, action-packed affairs.  An actual story sometimes took back-seat to a sequence of fight scenes.  Comics of the mid-aughts were slow-paced.  They were deconstructed and fans would sometimes wait four to six issues for a big fight. 

Compare Jim Lee’s first issue of Wildcats in 1992 with Joe Casey’s first issue of Wildcats 3.0 in 2002.  Compare the “Reign of the Supermen” in 1993 with “World without a Superman” this past year.  Compare Joe Madureira’s X-Men in 1994 to Grant Morrison’s New X-Men in 2004.  They’re completely different animals. 

 And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.  John Dunbar made a good point when he discussed the history of Marvel comics in terms of its chief editors.  The comic books from the Joe Quesada era are as different from the Tom DeFalco era as the Jim Shooter era is from the Stan Lee era. 

 So yeah, I think we’re in the fifth age of comics.  Call them what you like: Chromium and Platinum (I haven’t given up on them yet), Dark and Prismatic (with a tip of the cap to Figserello), Iron and Modern.  But I think that they’re two very distinct and different ages, rather than one big “everything after.”

 And, yeah, I’m worried that we’re actually at the end of the fifth age of comics.  After the highs of 2007 (the best-selling year since the pre-crash days of ’95), we’ve seen two years of slight decline.  The industry isn’t back to the lows of 1997-’99.  At least, not yet. 

 Which brings me back to the subject that started this all.  I sincerely hope that DC’s Brightest Day and Marvel’s Heroic Age can reverse the trend.  I hope that new technology like Apple’s iPad can be a jump-start for the industry the way that the direct market was at the beginning of the Bronze Age.  I think things have been pretty good for the past decade.  And I’d like to see it keep going. 

 Thanks for listening, everyone.  The End. 

What Comes After the Bronze Age?

For the past two weeks, I’ve written articles about the various ages of comics.  It’s an admittedly academic topic, but one which fascinates me (and interests quite a few readers, judging by the number of comments generated by the past two columns).  The first column speculated as to whether or not DC’s Brightest Day and Marvel’s Heroic Age are the start of a new age (probably not, but I hope they at least lead to a resurgence in the current age which is beginning to stall).  The second column defended the existence of a Bronze Age, a term used to describe the third comic book boom.

In discussing the existence of a Bronze Age, I neglected to define it.  Happily, the Legion of Superfluous Heroes (otherwise known as the members of the Captain Comics Message Board) took up the task.  The discussion centered on two main theories.  The first is that the Bronze Age lasted from 1970-1986, starting with Green Lantern/Green Arrow #76 (sometimes in conjunction with other key issues of ’70-’71).  The second theory is that the Bronze Age lasted from 1975-1986, starting with the introduction of the all-new X-Men in Giant-Size X-Men #4 (with 1970-1974 serving as either a period between ages or a proto-Bronze Age).  Both theories shared a common end-date of 1986- the year that the Watchmen, Dark Knight Returns, Crisis on Infinite Earths and Secret Wars II brought significant changes in both tone and continuity.  Those weren’t the only theories- there are still those who reject the concept of a Bronze Age and others who offer a different end-point- but they seem to be the main ones. 

 This week, I want to move beyond that part of the discussion.  What comes after the Bronze Age? 

  One major view is that nothing comes after the Bronze Age.  Luke Blanchard wrote, “The last twenty years seem to me one long period.”  Jeff-of-Earth J described the ages of comics as “Golden, Silver, Bronze and something else.”  Wikipedia- a reflection of popular consensus- agrees.  It follows entries for Golden, Silver and Bronze Ages with one for a Modern Age, encompassing everything from 1987 until now. 

 I’m on record with another view.  I admit that I’m probably departing from the majority on this one.  But I think that the past twenty-five years contains at least two distinct ages, bringing us to a total of five. 

 I see several different factors contributing to the beginning of the Fourth Age (which, for now, will remain nameless).  One is the change in tone initiated by Alan Moore’s Watchmen and Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns.  Those two stories led comics to a different approach that was clearly distinct from the comics that came before.  Story-telling was darker and more mature, which is why one of the most popular names for this period is the Dark Age (a quick aside: those two features are not always the same thing though they’re often treated that way).  Those two works paved the way for other successful properties such as Neil Gaiman’s Sandman and DC’s Vertigo imprint. 

 Luke Blanchard is right when he writes, “I don't know that the post-Crisis DCU immediately got darker.”  It didn’t.  But the Silver Age didn’t happen over-night either.  The new Flash debuted in 1956.  Superman and Wonder Woman didn’t enter the Silver Age until 1958.  Green Arrow and Aquaman entered the Silver Age in different years despite co-starring in the same title.  Some people even argue that Batman didn’t enter the Silver Age until his “New Look” in 1964. 

  Another factor giving rise to the Fourth Age is the change in continuity.  This was especially apparent at DC.  Fans even developed a new lexicon of “pre-Crisis” and “post-Crisis” to refer to the many changes wrought by that series.  This became particularly evident to me when I recently read the trade collection of Superman: Man of Steel.  The changes to the character, the cast and the universe were far-reaching.  The changes were so significant that the editorial and accounting departments actually credited the writers with creating new characters (Marv Wolfman mentioned in a preface that he receives royalty checks for creating a new version of Lex Luthor).  In its way, the introduction of a new Superman in Man of Steel is as significant as the introduction of a new Flash in Showcase #4.  This time, the new Superman was followed by a new Wonder Woman, a new Justice League and a new Flash.  In a couple of years, Marvel followed with new titles for Spider-Man and X-Men. 

That leads us to several more factors.  The previous ages were all defined, in part, by an expansion of new characters, new titles and new companies accompanied by a noticeable increase in sales.  Well, that is certainly true of the Fourth Age.  The Fourth Age brought Dark Horse (1986), Malibu (1987), Valiant (1991), Image (1992), Topps (1992) and Malibu’s Ultraverse (1993).  Marvel and DC also expanded rapidly.  The result is that the early 1990s saw more new companies and more new characters than any era since the Golden Age.  Did all of these characters and companies succeed?  No.  But that was also true of the Golden Age.  Most of those characters were canceled quickly as well.  On the other hand, many characters from this period achieved popularity, longevity or jumped to other media (a category that includes Cable, Deadpool, Spawn, Hellboy, Witchblade, Static and Hitman). 

  The early ‘90s can also boast of publishing the most titles since the pre-Comic Book Code 1950s and achieving the highest individual sales since WWII.  Yes, you read that right.  The early ‘90s beat the Silver Age on several (though not all) peak markers.  I know that many older fans don’t want to give this era the status of an official age, but objectively, it stands out as much as the Silver Age did.

 Of course, all of this could be true and we’d still be dealing with only one post-Bronze Age era if not for another factor.  There is a very clear end-point.  In the first article, I mentioned that previous ages were characterized- not by the cancellation of one title such as Captain Marvel or X-Men- but by the cancellation of many titles and even the cessation of multiple publishers.  This was true of the Golden Age.  This was true of the Silver Age.  This was partially true of the Bronze Age.  And this was dramatically true of the Fourth Age. 

 The comic book market, propped up by speculator and investment buyers, collapsed in 1996 and 1997.  Almost all of the aforementioned companies went out of business or were sold.  Even Marvel, the biggest publisher in the industry, declared bankruptcy.  And both Marvel and DC slashed their titles until they were publishing between one-third and one-half of their peak numbers.  The shock to the industry was so significant that George cites it as the end of the Bronze Age (which didn’t have the cataclysmic ending of earlier ages).  And even Luke Blanchard seems to agree with me (phew! I didn’t want to disagree with Luke on everything) when he writes, “I suppose the speculator boom was a distinct period, since it brought with it new companies and characters which were wiped out when the boom collapsed.”

 That’s a beginning, a middle and an end.  That looks like an Age to me- the Fourth Age of comics. 

 

Is There a Bronze Age of Comics?

Last week, I wrote about the possibility of Marvel’s Heroic Age and DC’s Brightest Day ushering in a new age of comics.  Along the way, I discussed the previous ages of comics, the eras by which many categorize its history.  I received some excellent feedback and I’d like to respond in this follow-up column.

 

First of all, let me say thanks for the compliment, Jeff of Earth-J; the thoughtful reply, Luke Blanchard; and the exceptional reference, Turning Point.

 

Luke Blanchard wrote, “I'm always uncomfortable with attempts to continue "age" periodisation down to the present.”

 

You're not the only one, Luke.  Besides Turning Point (who posted in response to the initial column), there's also Maggie Thompson, the editor of Comics Buyer's Guide.  When they had their Bronze Age issue, she commented that she didn't believe in the existence of a Bronze Age.  As far as she was concerned, there's the Golden Age, the Silver Age and everything after (that’s a paraphrase, not a direct quote).

 

However, I think there are a couple of problems with that stance. 

 

The first problem is that the ship has already sailed.  Bronze Age has entered common usage.  I mentioned eBay in the first article; I recently typed “Bronze Age comics” into eBay and it came back with 2,253 results.  That’s more results than “Golden Age comics” and within a 1000 results of “Silver Age comics.”  I tried Google and got over 800,000 results including a very lengthy description on Wikipedia and several blogs that specifically focus on Bronze Age comics.  Retail sites use the term as well.  Capital Comics and House of Comics have entire Bronze Age sections (in addition to Golden and Silver Age sections).  The term exists and it’s here to stay. 

 

The second problem is what to use instead.  No offense intended, Luke, but I think your post illustrates this.  You rejected a historical categorization of comic books based on capital- “A” Ages but you then proceeded to discuss the history of comics based on a different set of ages.  It’s just that you used decades rather than the metallic nomenclature of Golden, Silver and Bronze Age.  Are decades the best way to categorize and understand the history of comics?  Maybe they are.  We certainly use decades for other facets of pop culture, especially music.  But maybe they aren’t.  A comic book in 1983 has a lot more in common with a comic in 1977 than it does with one in 1989.  The beginning and end-points of some movements coincide with the beginning or end of a decade, but not always.

 

On the other hand, I think there are advantages to using Age categorizations to comics. The main one is that it does a better job of reflecting the periodic nature of comics and conveying the movements within that history.  The history of comics isn’t a steady march over time, as a decade-by-decade survey might suggest, but a story of rises and falls. 

 

Some of the best evidence for the existence of a Bronze Age comes from people who don’t use the term, including those who were involved or who were there.  Mike Richardson, publisher of Dark Horse Comics, doesn’t subscribe to the notion of a Bronze Age.  But in his book, Comics between the Panels, he writes about a “creative revival” in the late ‘70s with Claremont and Byrne on Uncanny X-Men, Frank Miller on Daredevil and Walt Simonson.  Jon Cooke, the editor of Comic Book Artist, refers to Marvel’s “Second Wave” in the ‘70s including the origin of the new X-Men, Jim Starlin’s cosmic books and Mike Ploog on Ghost Rider.  Actually, many issues of Comic Book Artist are celebrations of the Bronze Age, despite the fact that Cooke doesn’t use the term himself. 

I wish I had the reference handy, but one of the creators of the time (I think it was Walt Simonson) even called the late ‘70s and early ‘80s “Marvel’s Silver Age” (Marvel’s real Golden Age being the Lee/Kirby/Ditko years upon which most of the company was built).  In addition to the previously mentioned creators, there was also Shooter and Perez on Avengers and Roger Stern’s Spider-Man. 

 

Then, there’s the 1981 article from Amazing Heroes that Turning Point posted for us.  The “Third Wave” that Michael Catron writes about is what we now call the Bronze Age.  He got a few things wrong.  He anticipated the possibility that DC’s Third Wave would inspire their main competition at Marvel to follow suit, as had happened in the early Silver Age when Marvel responded to the success of JLA with Fantastic Four.  But he didn’t notice that the tables had turned and that DC’s Third Wave was coming in response to Marvel’s Second Wave (as coined by Jon Cooke).  Specifically, the New Teen Titans were a response to the Uncanny X-Men.  However, he also got a few things right. He noticed that the advent of new publishers like Eclipse and Pacific were indicators that a Third Wave was already underway.  Indeed, Pacific and Eclipse (as well as other companies like First and Comico) played a similar role in the Bronze Age that secondary superhero publishers Archie, Charlton and Tower played in the Silver Age.  They were part of the creative resurgence that contributed new titles and new characters. 

 

Richardson’s Revival, Cooke’s Second Wave, Simonson’s “Marvel’s Silver Age” and Catron’s Third Wave are all terms for the same time period.  It’s the Bronze Age.  You don’t have to embrace the term in order to notice that there was a creative, cultural, and consumer ascendance.  The Bronze Age is a handy term for describing it.