80 Years in Longjohns

Since Jim Horwitz posted Watson's tribute to the Phantom yesterday afternoon, I've been on a nostalgia trip almost as directionless and disjointed as the strip itself.

I'm not even clear on whether "directionless and disjointed" is criticism or simply an accurate description of Lee Falk's strip, which not only pioneered the costumed superhero genre -- appearing before Superman or Batman -- but launched the most important question in the comic strip storytelling world, "Am I supposed to be taking this seriously?"

My father loved the Phantom for, I think, the same reason he loved the Andrews Sisters: His praise of such pop foolishness would drive my mother up the wall.

What he liked the most was the frequent, repetitive footnotes, and so if he dropped a particularly cliched or pointless remark into the conversation, he would add, "Old Jungle Saying!" in portentous tones.

There was also an adventure at some point in, I suppose, the late '50s, when the Phantom went into a cane field in pursuit of the villain, leaving his pygmy guards behind to warn  "Phantom say let no man follow!" in, thanks to the strip's glacial, repetitive pacing, about every other episode.

He was still dropping the phrase into conversations a quarter century later.

When I was working at a paper that carried an assortment of old strips, I wrote a column suggesting we revamp things a bit, and it was one of the few times I had a phrase spiked by an editor: I had to find another way to express my dismay over the strip's underlying colonialist condescension than by referring to Mr. Walker as "The Spandex Honky."

And I see by Wikipedia's cataloging of the strip's directionless disjointedness that, in fact, his suit is not Spandex but Kevlar, which I'm pretty sure wouldn't make Watson any more comfortable in the tropical heat of either Africa or Asia, depending on the time and map you consulted.

Or, as seen in the serial below, apparently South America. Machs nix.*
                                                                                                                 *Old Jungle Saying

However you feel about campy comics, and I like them, readers of this blog owe a debt to the Phantom, because he is responsible for transforming a mild interest in comics into the sort of obsession that brought me here, and it began with a framed, signed poster that I found in storage at that newspaper.

The Phantom's Wedding poster was a limited-edition promotional item in 1977, but, 21 years later, a manager at the paper decided we needed to clear out the storage and that we should have a garage sale.

I remarked that the poster was probably worth something to collectors, he scoffed at the idea and I went on-line with the query.

I got nowhere with the scoffing boss -- the poster went for a few bucks and I hope whoever bought it knew what they got -- but the inquiry introduced me to rec.arts.comics.strips and thereby hangs this entire venture.

rec.arts.comics.strips in those days still had a few professional cartoonists dropping in, and the fans were an appealing combination of passion and literateness, including several people who have become friends of this blog, like Mark Jackson, whom I single out because he has been the Keeper of the FAQ for several years, though the most recent version I found dates from 2014.

My favorite entry in the FAQ was this:

Q. Do a lot of syndicated cartoonists read this newsgroup?

A. Some, and some of them even post from time to time. There are also some regulars involved with comics syndication and book publication, and with various aspects of newspaper production. It would be tedious to keep a listing current so we won't attempt one, but if you read for a while or browse the archives you'll see some authoritative responses to questions (particularly polite ones). Please try not to frighten these folks away.

But over the years, the cartoonists -- both syndicated and web -- began to drop out as Usenet fell into entropy. I haven't been back for several years, except for an occasional peek, but it's still there for them as likes such things.

In its days of vitality, however, I learned a lot at racs, and one of the early lessons came about a year after I signed on, when Lee Falk died and I discovered how seriously his fans took the strip.

According to them, you weren't supposed to snicker over the delightful absurdities of the Ghost Who Walks, which made it hard to discuss the strip at all, since much of its appeal is linked to the question posed earlier, "Am I supposed to be taking this seriously?" 

The answer "yes" stifles much of the joy in the strip, but, if taking a comic strip seriously is death to conversation, taking yourself seriously is even moreso, since that's where snark comes from: A need to say something unpleasant just to show that you aren't being fooled, when, in fact, being fooled was the entire point.

The bottom line being that I think a true comics fan is able to unclench and enjoy the art form (and perhaps even pick up the collected volumes, at least those of favorite years).

Which reminds me of an experience Frank Linderman shared, from a storytelling session in the days when he was collecting stories about the trickster-god Old Man among the Blackfoot, Chippewa and Cree:

While all the company laughed, I remained silent. "Why does not my brother laugh with us?" asked the old warrior. I had feared to laugh at the stories lest the Indian believe that I was not serious in my desire to learn of this strange, mythical character, and I told him that. "We always laugh when we speak of Old Man," he said. "You should laugh aloud with us when we speak of him. He expects it and always laughs with us from the past." 

My guess is that Lee Falk laughs with us from the past, too.

 

Now here are your four hours and nine minutes of zen:

 
(You don't have to watch the entire thing, but do sample a few minutes.)

 

Comments

[Dave from Philadelphia]

Well ... thank you rec.arts.comics.strips!

[Brian Fies]

You're pushing all my buttons today.

Your Dad and I would've gotten along fine.

Just before I began my brief newspaper career, our editor had tried to drop "The Phantom" from our daily line-up for something new and fresh. Outraged readers descended with a passion they never showed for city council or school board votes, the decisions was immediately reversed, and a large sign went up in the newsroom warning anyone against ever trying something so foolish again.

RACS is where we met, of course, and where my semi-career in comics began when I posted a note inviting folks to check out a webcomic I was doing. I too drifted away, as the Internet landscape changed, the discussions got repetitive and, as a sort-of-pro, I stopped sharing my opinions as freely. But I still check in, if only to keep up with DD Degg. And I know a lot of pro cartoonists who lurked around that watering hole, and a couple who still do.

I always liked the Phantom (<--"The Ghost Who Walks!"), especially the concept of a crimefighter thought immortal because the job passes from father to son (or maybe daughter these days). Good strip.