AAARGH! Bumper Souvenir Catalogue

As far as I'm aware, Aaargh! was the first major exhibition of comics in the UK. I may be wrong—I'm sure there must have been exhibitions of individual artists, especially cartoonists, before, but this was the first to specifically celebrate comics as an art form.

It took place between 31 December 1970 and 7 February 1971 at the Institute of Contemporary Arts and was organised by Michael Kustow, a writer, producer and cultural activist. Kustow was associate director of the National Theatre and the RSC and was a director of the Institute of Contemporary Arts when it moved into the Mall, where the Aaargh! exhibition was held. He subsequently became the first arts commissioning editor for Channel 4 in 1982 and is still a writer and critic. His books include The Book of US (1968), Tank: An Autobiographical Fiction (1975), One in Four (1987), theatre@risk (2000) and Peter Brook: A Biography (2005).

Design (#264, December 1970) noted the exhibition thus:

Mike Kustow, ex-director of the ICA, is back at Nash House organising the first major exhibition of comics held in this country. "AAARGH !!!" will include original artwork, vintage backnumbers, magic lantern shows, dolls, lunchtime theatricals and films. The first section will run through British comics - from Comic Cuts to Cor! taking in stock characters like Weary Willie and Tired Tim, Professor Radium and Dan Dare. Then the great European and US comic heroes, from Krazy Kat to Feiffer victim Bernard Mergendeiler with a side-swipe at Tarzan and the Marvel Comics galaxy. Comic technique will be explained (as in the ingenious use of frames in this example from Neutron by Guido Crepax).

A number of artworks have been specially created by ICA war horses like Bruce Lacey and Adrian Henri, and one section of the exhibition will chart the reactions of children to the comics they read and display audio-visual stories composed at a comics summer school held in London earlier this year.

Included on the backup programme will be film episode serials of Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers and others, and a lunchtime play based on Frank Dickens' Bristow strip. "AAARGH!!!" takes place at Nash House from 31 December to 7 February between 11 am and 10 30pm.

Reviewing the exhibition, Christopher Warman of The Times (31 December 1970), was impressed from the moment he walked in to the moment he left...

There is a 12-foot-high monster astronaut at the door mouthing his neon-lit welcome of "AAARGH!", and beyong him banana skins, giant footprints, manhole covers are painted on the floor, while an exhotation "Look-out, Dan" shrieks out from the side.

The visitor would do well to be wary, for he has entered the blood-pulsing, heart-stopping, dangerous other-world of the comic...

At the end of the exhibition is a restaurant. Billy Bunter stares balefully. Balloons shout "Munch", "Slurp", "Gobble", "Burp". Fried eggs adorn chairs and the floor. In this genuine world of make-believe, they could just be real.

Michael McNay (The Guardian, 1 January 1971) saw it as part of an "intellectualising of comic cuts culture".

It was only a matter of time before the Institute of Contemporary Arts hitched its bandwagon to this star, and ran an exhibition of comics. It is not, of course, called an exhibition, but a celebration. The man who organised "Aaargh!" (to give it its full title), Mike Kustow, did not read comics as a child in North London, so he is able to combine the erudition of the historian with perspective, and the fervour of the convert.

But the matter is not quite as straightforward as Colin MacInnes claimed on this page last month. The interest of the literate and articulate in popular arts is not just the groping of a group whose own highbrow culture has broken up nor intellectual slumming, through there is an element of both, but the response of people who, unlike Kustow and, probably, MacInnes, were fed comics with their powdered milk.

In many schools, the Superman and Captain Marvel comics that came over with the wartime American forces were contraband beyond the dreams of avarice (and in their train a wonderful spawning of superhumans: Plastic Man, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Captain America, all drawing on the myth of invincibility that goes back at least to Achilles). They were compelling because Superman was in his heaven and all was right with the world, because the stories were masterpieces of compression (George Melly, who does the words for Flook, pointed out to Kustow that 20 words was the normal maximum for a balloon), and because they were well drawn.

This last point cannot be made often enough. Roy Lichtenstein realised it long ago: pictures like the Tate Gallery's "Whaaam!" derive their compressed power of line and design from comic book originals. But Lichtenstein is rare among painters: a lot of "fine" artists have had a lot of fun at the ICA, painting Desperate Dan friezes and, in the children's section, rubbery attenuated versions of Popeye and Mickey Mouse; none of them has approached the invention, the tension of line, the brilliance of framing, the delicate intricacy of the real cheap article, and of course, no single frame can recapture the compression of time and space in a complete comic story...

Desperate Dan is cruder and blunter than Krazy Kat, yet Patrick Hughes's fine art homage to him at the ICA isn't desperate enough by half: it fails to capture the strip's vitality. Desperate Dan is another immortal, but this time he is the creature of D. C. Thomson Ltd., the patriarchal, non-union Dundee firm that has held the most important corner of the British comics market since long before George Orwell wrote his worried article about the plot to subvert minds of the British young. And here the ICA exhibition falters badly: the "Wizard", "Adventure", "Rover", "Beano", "Dandy" and the others are missing. How did you celebrate comics without them?

The fault is not Kustow's or the ICA's. D. C. Thomson simply would not play...

So there is a whole sub-culture missing from the show. Porn, a minor but flourishing undergrowth, is not at the ICA either: an Italian variety was impounded by Her Majesty's Customs. But among some inferior camp ("Is this the end for Phoebe? Will it just be her and all those sabre toothed tigers? Does depravity triumph?") there is one extraordinary beautiful piece of work by Nicholas Devil, "A de luxe adult comic book recounting the adventures of Saga, a superheroine descended from Barbarella across centuries and continents."

In this Japanese episode, the best frames combine the boldness of Ukiyo-e prints with the subtlety of colour that modern multicolour printing systems bestow. It is well worth seeing and the show itself, in spite of the omissions, is a slap-up bumper beano.

The refusal by D. C. Thomson to get involved in the exhibition—something that I'm sure wouldn't happen now—explains why the Cavalcade of British Comics section featured comics from Comic Cuts to Cor!! via Puck, Chuckles, Radio Fun, Film Fun and Eagle without a single mention (in the souvenir brochure's editorial) of The Beano or The Dandy. Photographic blow-ups, original art-work and rare vintage issues were promised and Christopher Warman described how "On adjoining walls, Rupert Bear ventures from one innocent crisis to another, and Barry Mackenzie from the Private Eye comic swears his way along the strip."

I'm not sure if you can say that, nearly forty years on, comics have become intellectualised or benefitted from the occasional critical assessment as "art". Lichtenstein pop art of the sixties has become naughties pop art by Jeff Koons, who uses Popeye "as a comment on the economic crisis because the spinich-guzzling cartoon character was conceived during the Depression" (The Times, 11 May 2009), apparently, although I'm not sure which aspect of the Depression Popeye (created before the Depression started, incidentally) represents. And as Koons began his Popeye Series in 2002, it was certainly not conceived as a way of commenting on events six years later.

My point is that comics per se are still a gutter form of art to most people. Popeye, in the hands of Jeff Koons (who does very nice balloon dogs), is art, but it's unlikely we'll be seeing an exhibition of E. C. Segar's original Popeye artwork any more than the Tate would exhibit the uncredited comics and artists that Roy Lichtenstein took his inspiration from. Isn't it a shame that the country that created the comic can't find some way to celebrate the fact.

(* photo of Mike Kustow taken from the Bloomsbury website biog.; Robot photo from a very poor repro. of The Times (31 Dec. 1970); not sure of the copyright on either so if there's a problem, let me know. If anyone has any photographs from the Aaargh! exhibition, I'd love to see them.)

Things That Went AARGHHH! in the Night

Quite a while back (last November, in fact) I did some digging through old copies of Mayfair. Looking through the folder, I found the following article, written by Herbie Brennan (aka novelist J. H. (for James Herbert) Brennan), in the December 1973 issue.

(* probably © Fisk Publishing Co., Ltd.)

Comic Cuts

I can't believe how quickly the week slips by. It feels like it was only a couple of days ago that I was writing last week's CC column. There was a lot more touching up this week than I'd planned for (a line I dedicate to that queen of the double entendre, the late Mollie Sugden). I started work on some reviews for a new book on Saturday but the project came to a grinding halt on Monday afternoon when I received a message from the publisher that they were having to put the book on pause. My cue for a lot of swearing. But not for long, because I've got plenty of Bear Alley Books stuff to be getting on with, so I got cracking on another batch of artwork. Also dropped a line to an A-list artist I think would be perfect for the cover so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he's got a hole in his schedule.

I've not mentioned the Book Palace books for a while. A death in the family of one of the team has slowed our progress on previously announced titles but I'm pleased to say that we're getting back up to speed. Just seen the last of the proofs for Frank Bellamy's Complete Swift Years, which is going to a limited edition. If things go as currently planned, the book may even be leather bound—but don't hold me to it, please, as that possibility is still being negotiated. The column header today is the slipcase design.

I think that's all the news I have except to say "Get well, Lew" and "Congratulations, Matt", both champions of British comics in and around the Blogosphere.

Battle Picture Weekly Classic Comics

The second of Egmont's series of 'Classic Comics' specials--the first being the Roy of the Rover Souvenir Special that came out in April—and one I've been looking forward to. Although it suffers the same problem of extracting one or maybe two episodes from a long-running series, it's a great selection. You get the first ever episodes of "D-Day Dawson" and "The Bootneck Boy", two episodes of "The Sarge" (drawn impeccably by Mike Western), two episodes of "Johnny Red" (ditto Joe Colquhoun, a nice little taster for the upcoming Titan volume), two each of "Day of the Eagle" and "Hellman on the Russian Front", complete yarns featuring "Major Eazy" and "Rat Pack" plus a couple of features.

I wasn't a reader of the early Battle Picture Weekly. It arrived just as I was leaving Valiant behind in 1975 and switching to Speed & Power, so the first issues I picked up weren't until 1977 and the merger with Action. There I rediscovered some of my favourite artists—Mike Western, Eric Bradbury and Joe Colquhoun, all on top form—and kept reading for some time. So the magazine works for me as a nostalgic dip into the past but might leave newcomers with a sense of frustration not knowing what happened next (for instance, German forces have the Sarge and his section surrounded in a farmhouse... you turn the page... and... Hellman's heading off to Russia). Newcomers might want to wait for Titan's Best of Battle (progressing steadily towards completion, last I heard) which will include a similar line-up—Rat Pack, D-Day Dawson, The Sarge, Darkie's Mob, Hellman, Bootneck Boy, Johnny Red. For the rest of us oldies, the Battle Picture Weekly Classic Comics is a great little reminder of those great old days when you could walk into a newsagent and still find half-a-dozen boys' comics on the shelves each week. Hell, even picking it up in W. H. Smiths, sole distributor for these Egmont specials, was nostalgic.

Eagle Times

The latest Eagle Times (v22 #2, Summer 2009) continues a run of excellent issues with more of the same. The cover story is a look at the nature artwork of Tom Adams, nowadays best known for his covers for Agatha Christie novels but who has had quite a diverse career over the past sixty years. Diversity is the name of the game with Eagle Times, too. Other features include looks at 'Operation Saturn' and 'The Man from Nowhere', Eagle Autographs, Rex Keene (the first in a new series of 'Rivals of Jeff Arnold'), the third part of a look at 'Heros the Spartan', a P.C. 49 text story, pop music in 1965 and a look at Eagle Holidays.

The latter is the kind of obscure gem that Eagle Times turns up regularly and covers so well. It's the kind of unexpected feature that is surprisingly entertaining. Maybe it's my age or maybe it's because we always had family holidays, but the idea of having your trips organised by the Youth Hostel Association in association with your favourite weekly comic sounds quite exotic and fun. Canoe cruising, mountaincraft and fossil hunting were all on the cards... a bit different to the caravans and stony beaches I remember.

Subs. are £22 (overseas £34 in UK pounds) for 4 issues a year from Keith Howard, 25A Station Road, Harrow, Middlesex HA1 2UA.

Comic Cuts

A brief note for those of you wondering where this week's comic strip is: I've put the next strip on hold for a couple of days to make room for a look at a couple of newly available titles and the regular monthly updating of the recent releases and upcoming books columns, which I'll be posting on Wednesday and Thursday. Between updating them and writing a bunch of reviews for a book (well, I've got to earn a living somehow!), I've not had time to clean up any artwork. I'll have everything back to normal next week.

The Best of Roy of the Rovers: The 1970s

The new Roy of the Rovers book from Titan has arrived. The Best of Roy of the Rovers: The 1970s follows up the popular The Best of Roy of the Rovers: The 1980s volume (reviewed here)in much the same style and format with over 200 pages, mostly of colour artwork but this time interlaced with adverts and features in the style of The Bumper Book of Roy of the Rovers. The strips are from early issues of Roy's own paper, which debuted in 1976 with David Sque and Tom Tully already firmly established as the artist/writer team; both moved over from Roy's original home, Tiger, and carried on without drawing breath.

The opening storyline, running originally over the 1976/77 football season, saw Roy in fine form, scoring goal after goal in the season's opening matches. Fans and critics alike presume that Roy is chasing after a £30,000 prize that has been offered to the footballer who can score 50 goals that season. Once the idea is fixed in their minds, every choice Roy makes on the field—from the teams he choses to whether to substitute himself—is scrutinised.

After a brief soujourn to America, where Roy ends up beating the Yanks at their own version of football, the 1977/78 season began with Roy facing the grim problem of hooliganism in the ranks of Melchester supporters which he tries to deal with in a variety of ways which presumably match Tom Tully's notions of making football more of a family game and the fans more inclusive.

The final story, from 1979, records how players and fans react to the signing of big-name Spanish forward Paco Diaz to the team.

Not quite the soap opera it was to become in later years, where there was as much action between matches as on the field, these stories are nevertheless classic examples of football strips at their best—no lucky boots or other gizmos, just straight footballing action with all the match-day tensions condensed into two or three pages each week. But even if football's not your cup of tea, there is a happy event (two, in fact) for Roy and Penny Race off the pitch and you won't miss a thing even if the rules are a mystery thanks to the Greek chorus of Melchester fans who keep up a running commentary each game: "Roy's linking with Peak and Gray—their three most experience players! What a move!"

The Best of Roy of the Rovers: The 1970s. Titan Books ISBN 978-1848560246, 21 June 2009.

(* Roy of the Rovers © Egmont UK Ltd.)

Frank H. Mason

The Illustrative Art of Frank H. Mason
by Gordon Howsden

During the first half of the 20th century Frank Henry Mason was arguably Britain’s finest marine painter. He was also a highly skilled landscape painter, etcher and poster designer. As so often with artists whose talent encompasses several genres, Mason’s commercial art has received much less attention.

Mason, who was born in Seaton Carew, Co. Durham on 1 October 1875, did not have any formal art training, receiving just a basic school education before spending two years from the age of 12 on the naval training ship HMS Conway. The initial idea of a life at sea gave way to a fascination with engineering and it was whilst employed by Parson’s in Scarborough that his interest in sketching became a passion.

He received some guidance from local Scarborough artists and after successfully selling some of his work Mason decided to give up engineering and become a full time painter. He was aged about 22 at the time. A few years later he made regular trips up the coast and joined the influential Staithes group of artists, of which Laura Knight was a prominent member.

In 1900 he had the first of several paintings accepted by the Royal Academy, and he also exhibited regularly at the Royal Society of British Artists and the Royal Institute of Painters in Watercolours. He was elected a member of the former in 1904 and the latter in 1929.

In the period leading up to the First World War Mason travelled widely and also completed his first illustrations for a book, providing mainly pen and ink studies for Lionel Cust’s Angelo Bastiani - A Story of Modern Venice. Another early venture into book illustration that leant heavily on his trips abroad was A Corner of Spain by Walter Wood. This was published in 1910, the same year that Mason made his debut as an author with The Book of British Ships. The burgeoning postcard industry was happy to make use of some of Mason’s landscapes many of which featured scenes from Scarborough and the North-East coast.

Postcard illustrated by Mason. c.1910

Shortly after war was declared in 1914 Mason was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the RNVR. His initial assignment involved patrolling the North Sea and English Channel followed by a posting to the Mediterranean and Suez Canal zone. Many of the sketches he made whilst on active service were subsequently made up into finished works that were purchased by the Imperial War Museum.

After being demobbed in 1919 Mason resumed his career in Scarborough. In 1912 he had added printmaking to his oil and watercolour work, and as the 1920s progressed he began to make a name for himself as a poster designer. The rationalization of the railway industry in 1923 resulted in the formation of four major companies and the London and North Eastern Railway (LNER) were particularly impressed with Mason’s work and signed him up to an exclusive contract covering the period 1927 to 1932. A rather unusual brochure that Mason illustrated for the LNER was clearly designed for issue in North America, as the spelling of the title “Colorful England and Scotland” indicates.

The shipping companies were enjoying a golden period from the mid-1920s and Mason received quite a few commissions from Cunard among others. This work varied from small designs for postcards, various forms of advertising material including menu cards, posters and larger works in both oil and watercolour. Mason also produced a steady stream of magazine and book illustrations ranging from regular contributions to Herbert Strang’s Annual to collaborations with Frank Hendry (Shalimar), of which The Ocean Tramp, published in 1938, contains a number of superb illustrations.

Cunard menu card

This book brought Mason to the attention of tobacco manufacturer John Player & Sons, and in 1938 he was commissioned to prepare the artwork for a series of 25 large cards titled “Sea Tramps and Traders”. Shortly afterwards Player’s put Mason to work on another series, this time for a series of 50 standard sized cards, with the title of “Modern Naval Craft”. With war clouds already hovering, the latter set was given precedence, as was a follow up series of 25 large cards which used much of the artwork for Modern Naval Craft together with eight new paintings.

This latter set was titled “British Naval Craft" and it was issued in cigarette packets in October 1939, some weeks after the war had commenced. This was one of the last cigarette card sets to be issued, as due to paper shortages no new series were issued in Britain after 1939. Sadly, the set of Sea Tramps and Traders was aborted, as was a further commission for a card series based on his 1934 book illustrations for Vanishing Craft. An interesting fact connected with Modern Naval Craft was that albums of the cards were purchased just prior to the war by agents acting on behalf of the German government for issue to U-Boat captains. This was a rather unwanted tribute to the accuracy of Mason’s paintings!

Shortly after the outbreak of war the Government produced recruitment posters for the three armed services and Mason was selected to prepare the Royal Navy design. This showed a capital ship steaming through heavy seas with the caption, “The British Navy guards the freedom of us all”. The not inconsiderable fee of 100 guineas was well deserved. A similar image painted by Mason was used on the front cover of a wartime publicity booklet titled, The Royal Navy Today. Raphael Tuck produced a series of near A-4 sized publications to bolster the war effort and Frank Mason was chosen to illustrate the booklet titled, The Navy’s Here!. The Navy magazine also used Mason’s work both during and after the war and some of these illustrations appeared on postcards published by Salmon.

Mason had moved to London in 1927, residing briefly in West Hampstead and subsequently at 44 Finchley Road, St John’s Wood. In 1942, he moved to his final address, 3 Primrose Hill Studios, Fitzroy Road, Regents Park. Apart from his morale boosting illustrations, Mason also worked with a team of artists designing camouflage for ships. He was always a keen builder of model ships and during the war his hobby was put to good use. In 1945 Mason was 69 years old and it is understandable that after the war his output gradually declined. Nevertheless, he continued his poster work and carried out a number of commissions for shipping lines, particularly F. T. Everard and Sons, and some of his paintings of their fleet appeared on publicity postcards issued by the firm.

Apart from marine and landscape paintings his versatility was emphasized by his illustrations for another Raphael Tuck publication, Our Trains. The same year, 1946, he collaborated with Frank Bowen on Famous Ships, which was published in the Puffin Picture Books Series. The last book to be illustrated by Mason was the 1958 publication The Romance of the Clipper Ships by Basil Lubbock.

Frank Mason died on 24 February 1965 and, rather surprisingly, it was not until 1996 that a posthumous exhibition of his work was held by the Hartlepool Borough Council. A very informative booklet by Edward Yardley was produced to coincide with this exhibition. The books illustrated by Mason and listed below have been compiled from this booklet, the British Museum Library and my own collection.

Books by Frank H. Mason
The Book of British Ships. London, Henry Frowde, 1910; revised, London, Henry Frowde, 1911.
Ashore & Afloat. London, Press Art School, 1929.
A Book of Steamers. Glasgow, Blackie & Son, 1934.
Ship Model Making: The Brig. London, The Studio Ltd., 1935; New York, Studio Publications, 1935.
Famous Ships, with F. C. Bowen. Harmondsworth & New York, Penguin Books (Puffin Picture Books 39), 1946.

Books Illustrated
Angelo Bastiani. A story of modern Venice by Lionel Cust. London, Archibald Constable, 1904.
A Corner of Spain by Walter Wood. London, Eveleigh Nash, 1910.
North Sea Fishers and Fighters by Walter Wood. London, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co, 1911.
The Battleship by Walter Wood. London, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co, 1912.
Dickens in Yorkshire. Being notes of a journey to the delightful village of Dotheboys, near Greta Bridge by Charles Pascoe, illus. with James Ayton Symington. London, Pitman, 1912.
The Story of Santiago de Compostela by C. Gasquoine Hartley. London, Dent, 1912; New York, Dutton, 1912.
Alice in Holidayland. A paroldy7 in prose, verse and picture by F. W. Martindale, illus. with Noel Pocock. Leeds & London, Chorley & Pickersgill, 1914.
The Port of Hull by Sir John F. Foster, illus. with Charles Dixon. Hull, 1914.
The Diary of a “U”-Boat Commander by Etienne (Sir Stephen King-Hall). London, Hutchinson & Co., 1920.
William Beardmore and Company. Impressions of the works. Glasgow, William Beardmore & Co., 1924.
Cameos of Three Counties, from Humber to Tweed by Dell Leigh. Bungay, Suffolk, Richard Clay & Sons, 1928.
On the Line by Dell Leigh, illus. with Freda Lingstrom. Bungay, Suffolk, Richard Clay & Sons, 1928.
The Land of the Vikings. From Thames to Humber by H. V. Morton. Bungay, Suffolk, Richard Clay & Sons, 1928.
Little Ships by John Scott Hughes. London, Country Life, 1932.
Vanishing Craft, British Coastal Types in the Last Days of Sail by Frank G. G. Carr. London, Country Life, 1934.
The Romance of London’s River by James A. Jones. London, Hutchinson & Co., 1935.
Mauretania. Landfalls and Departures of 25 Years by Humfrey Jordan. London, Hodder & Stoughton, 1936.
The Ocean Tramp by Frank C. Hendry. London, Collins, 1938.
Britain Keeps the Seas. Some naval incidents during the first two years of the World War by Captain J. E. A. Whitman. London & New York, Oxford University Press, 1942.
True Tales of Sail and Steam by Shalimar (Frank C. Hendry). London & New York, Oxford University Press, 1943.
The Navy's Here by Captain Bernard Acworth. London, Raphael Tuck & Sons, 1943.
With the Royal Navy by Charles Jarman. London, Raphael Tuck & Sons, 1944.
Our Trains. London, Raphael Tuck & Sons, 1946.
From the Log-Book of Memory by Shalimar (Frank C. Hendry). Edinburgh & London, William Blackwood & Sons, 1950.
The Romance of Clipper Ships by Basil Lubbock. London, Hennel Locke, 1958.

Annuals etc. containing illustrations by Frank H. Mason
Herbert Strang’s Annual. London, Oxford University Press, various editions.
The Big Colour Picture Book, illus. with others. London, Blackie & Son, 1924.
The Wonder Book of… London, Ward Lock, various titles and editions.

Biggles in The Cruise Of The Condor

Biggles in the Cruise of the Condor
by Jeremy Briggs

Captain WE Johns pilot character James Bigglesworth, popularly known as Biggles, is one of those fictional characters that has entered the British public consciousness whether or not they have read any of his novels or short stories. The first Biggles book The Camels Are Coming was published in 1932 in which he was a World War 1 pilot for the Royal Flying Corps and he would progress through various jobs and adventures in the inter-war years before returning to once again defend his country from the Germans during World War Two despite having barely aged along the way. Johns continued to write Biggles novels right up to his death in 1968 when the character had moved into the post war years.

The Cruise Of The Condor was the second Biggles novel, originally published in August 1933, with Biggles as an adventurer in peacetime. This was the story chosen by Juvenile Productions in May 1955 to turn into what we would now call a graphic novel but was then called a "strip book". Artist Pat Williams produced 46 pages of colour internal artwork as well as the wraparound cover for this annual sized hardback book.

Biggles and Algy visit the elderly Dickpa only to find his English house under armed siege by a gang allied to Silas Blattner who are determined that Dickpa will give them the location of Incan treasure in Ecuador. Escaping from the house, Biggles returns in an aircraft to rescue his friends and they organise an expedition to South America to recover the treasure. Once in Brazil they use a flying boat, which they name Condor, to fly over the rainforest and to land on the rivers as they make their way towards the location of the treasure. Followed by a larger flying boat carrying Blattner’s men, our heroes locate the treasure cave only to find it empty before eventually stumbling across a lost city filled with treasure and the bodies of its long dead inhabitants. Returning to the Condor, a volcanic explosion preventing them taking all but a little treasure, they take off only to be confronted by Blattner’s plane which attempts to shoot them down.

Pat William's art has that 1950s softness to it which is both comforting to look at but also annoying in its vagueness. Considering that Biggles books are known for their aviation themes, William's aircraft are ill defined. The plane used to escape from the besieged house is obviously a De Havilland Chipmunk, therefore setting the 1933 story in then contemporary times, but by no stretch of the imagination could this small trainer aircraft fly the Atlantic ocean to South America as implied by the script. The Condor itself is an unusual design with an interesting pusher/puller propeller arrangement immediately above the cockpit similar to a Dornier Do18 while the villain's flying boat is a larger four engined aircraft similar to a Shorts Sunderland and, it has to be said, rather impractical for landing on unexplored rivers in a rain forest.

The text in the speech balloons is all too often perfunctory and many panels are silent. Indeed the script has an annoying habit of describing almost an entire page's plotline in one long text panel and then leaving the next half dozen panels of artwork virtually silent as the visual story struggles to catches up with the text. This tends to suggest that the uncredited writer who adapted the story from the original text novel was not a regular comic strip author and while some story elements are dwelt on others are all too often rushed which adds to an overall feeling of unevenness. Dickpa is Biggles’ nickname for his uncle in the original novel but the comic strip version neglects to mention this rather important family connection leaving readers wondering why Biggles trusts this strangely named man so implicitly. Perhaps issues like this were part of the reason that there was no published follow up. In fact the UK had to wait until 1978 for the next Biggles graphic novels which were translations of several Swedish books by Bjorn Karlstrom.

The original price of the strip book of The Cruise Of The Condor was 2/6, which equates to 12.5p in modern money. Given the collectability of older Biggles books and the uniqueness of this publication, a typical price for buying this book in good condition today would be upwards of two hundred times that original price. Unless you are a Biggles collector then it is not really worth it.

Cruise of the Condor was the first Biggles graphic novel to be published in the UK. The latest UK Biggles graphic novel is Spitfire Parade and you can read Jeremy's review of it at downthetubes.

Comic Cuts

Most of this week's news you'll have spotted already. Chris Weston pulled out all the stops to get the colour cover of The Phantom Patrol to me this week (head over to Bear Alley Books to have a look). We've got a new logo for BAB, care of graphic designer Mark Bonsor, and we're working on an ordering system and other doodads so that you can actually get hold of books when they appear.

Most of this has taken me away from what I prefer to be doing, which is the actual contents of the books. I've not written anything, apart from these Comic Cuts columns and a couple of reviews, for a few weeks. This week I got to to research and write the introduction to The Phantom Patrol—my usual potpourri of historical info and reminiscences from anyone involved that I can get in touch with. I've also been doing some digging around for another BAB project which should be a lot of fun when it comes together.

The latest issue of Spaceship Away! landed this week with the news that Garth is coming to its pages as of next October's issue, in colour. John Ridgway, who has made such a great job with Hal Starr and Nick Hazard (and who, of course, is doing the cover for Cursitor Doom), is the man behind the colouring, telling me recently that "Colour seems to have added a whole new dimension to the strip. People who have seen it have liked it (so far)" I'm looking forward to seeing it—I've seen quite a selection of the sample strips that John has coloured up in the past and I've always been impressed.

But that's next issue. This issue sees the conclusion (and a very satisfying one) of Keith Page's "Rocket Pilot", the end of "Ex-Astris", although it was only ever a preview for a potentially much longer series which may appear yet (some readers of SA! dislike computer generated artwork but the 3-part story may have won them over), and new episodes of Dan Dare (two ongoing storylines), and reprints of "Journey Into Space" and "Nick Hazard". Spaceship Away! has always been home to some interesting articles and illustrations and this issue is no exception, with a revealing piece by Bruce Cornwell about his association with Dan Dare, and nice artwork by Don Harley, Ian Kennedy, Gerald Palmer and Graham Bleathman.

For ordering info and subscriptions, visit the Spaceship Away website. You can find some background on how the comic came to be at Wikipedia. Back issues are available.

By the way, fans of "Eagles Over the Western Front" will notice that this is a slightly longer story than the four or five episodes it has run most weeks. They'll be running over the weekend but will still be here Monday if that's the next chance you get to pop by. Just remember not to read them out of order.

Phantom Patrol: final cover art

I can't resist cross-posting this. I've just posted the final wraparound cover art for The Phantom Patrol on the Bear Alley Books website. Things may have seemed a little slow-moving but the site is starting to look a little more colourful than it was when we launched on the 12th. There's a new logo and banner for starters, courtesy of graphic designer Mark Bonsor, and hopefully we'll have some more features up and running in the next few days.

I'm damn sure the above image will wing its way around the web in no time at all—and you have my blessing. While you're doing that, maybe you could grab this one and post it in a few days, once I've got the ordering information on the site up and running.

(* artwork © Bear Alley Books; Phantom Patrol © IPC Media.)

Phantom Patrol update

I've just posted an update over on the Bear Alley Books site on how The Phantom Patrol is progressing, along with the inked version of Chris Weston's incredible cover illustration. Go take a look.

The Secret Brotherhood of Power

Issue 2 of Fantastic, the Odhams' Power Comic launched in 1967, enrolled all its readers into The Secret Brotherhood of Power and gave away a free scar. "We raise our clenched right hands and whisper the wondrous word 'POWER'," revealed the writer of that week's "News from the Floor of 64". "Get this week's issue number two of FANTASTIC then you too can have a scar on the inside of your wrist. Your too can breathe the password 'POWER'. And we can say unto you 'Welcome to the Secret Brotherhood'."

Issue 2—dated 25 February 1967 and already ready for the printers long before the first issue was ever published—also announced that Fantastic had already been awarded a prize, the 1967 Educational Publishing Prize, by The Guardian newspaper. "You've probably never heard of The Guardian but we're sure you'll be as impressed as we are about this award when we tell you that The Guardian is regarded by some people as one of Britain's leading daily newspapers!"

The sarcasm of this line would have been lost on the readers but was a response from the editors to a piece that had been published in The Guardian a few weeks earlier. The Guardian's "Miscellany" column for 4 January 1967 had included the following:

THIS BEING the high season for journalistic awards, "Miscellany" has a couple of nominations. First, the 1967 educational publishing prize to Cecil King (via Odhams Press) for "Fantastic." A bit premature this, perhaps. "Fantastic" won't arrive on bookstands till mid-February; but advance reports—featuring the Invisible Fantastic Iron Man, the Mighty Fantastic Thor, the Incredible Fantastic X-Men—are (not mincing words) fantastic. "The best American comic material carefully re-edited for the British youngster," Odhams says. And what fantastic bait is being used to sell this fantastic mish-mash? A free pennant wallet with one edition; free bubble gum with another; and free plastic scars. "Get the secret brotherhood of power scar," "Fantastic" proclaims. You also get three other scars for sticking on wrists and a "mighty Cyclops" plastic eye. "Don't be a chump—be a scarface." As the headmistress said to the bishop, this is just unbelievable.

When Fantastic chose to announce this as a genuine award, Miscellany took umbrage and offered them a second "prize" on 21 February under the heading "Nerve awards 1967":

... the nonexistent award for nonexistent educative worth wasn't meant totally seriously. Nevertheless, "Fantastic" this week touts the "prize" in its editorial columns as proof that "we've started something special." "You've probably never heard of the 'Guardian' but we're sure you'll be as impressed as we are about this award when we tell you the 'Guardian' is regarded by some people as one of Britain's leading daily newspapers! So how about that! Thanks for the honour you 'Guardian' Guys..." The layers of irony grow too dense: all the harassed "Guardian" perverts of "Fantastic" children who 'phoned bemusedly yesterday are hereby notified that the award-giving business is simply ridiculous.

The following week's free gift of a packet of bubble gum didn't earn Fantastic a single mention in the newspapers.

(* Fantastic © IPC Media)

James Bond cover gallery

After the recent Modesty Blaise cover gallery, it's time to turn to James Bond. Back in 1987, Titan began reprinting the Bond newspaper strip from the Daily Express but only managed four titles before the series ground to a halt. Not so the latest series which looks like it will achieve its goal of putting all the Bond strips back in print.

Truth be told, I still prefer the earlier versions with their fully painted covers.

(* James Bond comic strip (c) Express Newspapers Ltd.)