Men Of Tomorrow
Gerard Jones' Superman
Men Of Tomorrow: Geeks, Gangsters And The Birth Of
The Comic Book
By Gerard Jones
William Heinemann, $32.95
THERE are many ways Gerard Jones could have tackled this subject. At its core, it is the story of the birth of Superman and the all too often miserable misadventures of his bedraggled creators, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. But the real flesh of the book comes in stories of bootleg whiskey travelling in paper trucks from Canada into the US during Prohibition, of the dubious racketeers of the printing industry and the ultra-conservative nature of American society after World War I.
It is more than clear that Jones loves his three heroes Siegel, Shuster and their good-looking son from outer space. But the almost drooling admiration of Superman means Jones makes the same mistake that any fan would; Superman is discussed almost as though he were the only superhero around and the only one who matters.
The core of this story is about money-grabbing. We travel through the meeting of young Siegel and Shuster, both geeks extraordinaire, finding each other in a Cleveland high school. Jones lavishly describes the cultural world of America in the 1930s; a melting pot of Jewish, Italian and Irish cultures clashing on the streets and thriving behind closed doors. It's a wonderfully gritty description of old rituals misplaced in a new land.
But then we retreat to the bedrooms of the geeks where they plot, largely poorly, to create a superhero for the times. The new land, struggling out of the mire of the depression, was creating escapes. The pulps, magazines of science fiction and fantasy, were appearing and so were heroes of a thousand faces: the Shadow, Dick Tracy, Buck Rogers, Doc Savage, Mandrake the Magician, Tarzan. While Jones notes that Siegel was a fan of the Shadow, the earlier heroes are given scant treatment. It is the genesis of Superman that is all-important in these opening chapters.
But for the more cynical of us, this is exactly where the problem begins. Men of Tomorrow is, largely, a book about acknowledging the true creators of the man of steel. The ruthless comics industry was quick to rip off the young and naive creators of characters and Siegel and Shuster were early victims. But Jones' vivid detailing of the evolution of Superman calls into question just how original this character was. Superman was an amalgam of influences. Nietzsche aside, his name was taken directly from an advertising blurb for Doc Savage. But, as Jones reveals, the initial character himself was almost verbatim that of a science-fiction story by Philip Wylie called Gladiator.
The story revolves around a scientific experiment in which a biologist turns his son into a super-human: "I'm like a man made out of iron instead of meat," the super-human proclaims. It is intriguing that, given Men of Tomorrow revolves around ideas being stolen and never acknowledged, that Siegel seemed to keep his own sources fairly well hidden; we certainly don't hear of Wylie again.
While Jones re-creates the intricacies of Jewish tradition in its transplantation to American soil, he is less inclined to investigate the impact of Jewish mythology and religion on the guy in tights. Will Eisner, who created The Spirit, has likened Superman to the golem, the legendary creation of Rabbi Elijah of Chelm in the 16th century. The golem could assume human form and protect the community from harm. The golem is also a key inspiration in Michael Chabon's brilliant fictional account of the evolution of comics, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.
Indeed, there is Jewish symbolism aplenty in the Superman narrative. He is a child survivor named Kal-El, which in Hebrew resembles "all that is God". He comes from the planet Krypton, where the population, a race of brilliant scientists, is wiped out, just as the Pharaoh decreed the death of all Jewish children in biblical times. His parents place Superman in a small rocket and send him to Earth in a gesture that has much in common with the reed basket for Moses.
But this is not the stuff of Men of Tomorrow. Jones has little interest in exploring the psychological or cultural impetus behind the superhero genre. His interest is more in the dollars and deals, the impact of politics on the industry and how the hustlers (especially Superman's publishers, Harry Donenfeld and Jack Liebowitz) used the geeks. So, in the end, it's a book about the biz rather than the cultural upheaval the superheroes represented.
The creation of Batman by Bob Kane is discussed only lightly and the radical creative shifts brought to bear by such figures as Jack Kirby are only slimly discussed. The impact of comics on literature and cinema in the past two decades is also glossed over. Although Art Spiegelman's renowned Maus is mentioned, the more radical departures of recent years are barely touched upon Jones is more interested in how much money Liebowitz made in the Time Warner AOL merger in 2000.
In Alan Moore's classic graphic novel The Dark Knight Returns, Superman is portrayed as an ultra-conservative lackey of the Republicans.
In Jones' version, the S on Superman's chest reads as a $.
Superman never had the confused origins and confusions of The Hulk or Batman, but he could rake in the money in superhuman quantities.
This is a wonderful read to gain an understanding of the bizarre economies of American comic publishing and at times it sizzles like a true-crime novella. Unfortunately, the superheroes don't come to the rescue.