MYTHCOMICS: ["A BRILLIANT CAREER"] DICK TRACY (1945-46)

 

In the 1960s, a familiar support-character in the DICK TRACY strip was Diet Smith, whose wealth and resources shepherded Tracy and his police department into Chester Gould's thoroughly bizarre vision of the Space Age-- a period that many TRACY fans might prefer to forget. But in the late 1940s, the year Smith was introduced, the millionaire magnate was best known for bestowing on Tracy his best-known technological gizmo: the 2-way wrist radio.

Now even in 1945 Gould could have easily made Smith both a captain of industry and a genius inventor, like the later Tony Stark, so that any device he gave to Tracy was his own creation. Or Gould might have modeled Smith after Harold Gray's Daddy Warbucks, whose plants could turn out war-weapons with no reference to the R&D process. Instead, though, the arc I've titled A BRILLIANT CAREER focuses upon the true creator of the wrist-radio, the blind genius named Brilliant, whose short and tumultuous career owed much to Diet Smith, though one of the two never knows their true connection.              

As it happens, the storyline for Smith also re-introduced a character whom Gould seemed to have consigned to a grisly death in October 1945: language-mangling comical hillbilly B.O. Plenty. Gould brought Plenty back into the strip and put him to work on Diet Smith's estate, and though the wild-bearded farmer doesn't play a big dramatic role in CAREER, he would go to become much more of a regular fixture in the 1950s than his employer.

In any case, Smith, whose nickname clearly refers to the mild food he eats, due to ulcers brought on by his hard-driving work-schedule, contacts Tracy. Smith's long-time business partner, whom Smith regarded as a brother (though the dead man never gets a proper name), has perished in an isolated room, strangled to death by an unknown assailant. However, Plenty stumbles across a clue: an experimental wristwatch-radio apparently dropped by the murderer. Smith relates that the dead partner was in charge of the division working on the secret project. Tracy interviews the radio division's research team, and the employee "Miss Irma" claims, perhaps imprudently, to have invented the watch. Tracy suggests her involvement in the crime, prompting this exchange:

SMITH: "Why, Irma's devoted to our company. She's been legally compensated for all discoveries while in our employ. She's quite happy."

TRACY: "Are you SURE she's happy?"

This is the closest that Gould-- who was himself a toiler in the fields owned by a great syndicate-- comes to admitting that such a laborer might feel himself (or herself) short-changed. And Tracy's instincts are correct in that Irma did feel short-changed, which presumably led her to murder Smith's partner for vague reasons. Apparently Irma believed she could remain Smith's employee and brazen things out, but when Tracy implicates her, she gets her husband Herman to spring her free using another of her inventions, "the atom light."

Except Irma and Herman are far bigger thieves than even a robber-baron like Smith. Irma's teenaged son Brilliant-- whom she accidentally blinded in a sort of reverse-Oedipal motif-- created both the atom light and the wrist-radio. (Though Brilliant has no idea that his mother's using one of his inventions for crime, it's somewhat appropriate that even a saintly kid like Brilliant might want to deprive others of sight. if only on a subconscious level.) Irma and Herman, now on the run, then get the not-so-brilliant idea to mass-produce the atom light for sale to foreign powers. Brilliant informs his adoptive father that they can only make more devices with a supply of lithium. Herman, knowing that Smith's factory has such a supply, uses the atom light to try ripping off the shipment. However, Smith's guards kill Herman.

Irma, never a master planner, then goes off the deep end. She infiltrates Smith's estate, and in a scene perhaps more indebted to Agamemnon than to Oedipus, she shoots Smith in his bath and then kills herself.

   

The Oedipal pattern does come forth, though, for even after Brilliant has been told how his parents used him, he like his mother decides that Smith is responsible for all his sufferings. At the hospital where Smith is recovering from his wounds, Brilliant invades what he thinks is the industrialist's room and attempts to kill his parents' murderer. However, hardboiled Tracy has read Brilliant like a book, and he plays a game of "blind man's bluff," allowing Brilliant to fire into an empty bed. Once Brilliant has purged his demons, he expresses contrition. He accepts Smith's offer to be the chief of research at Smith's facility. In private, the industrialist says that he wants Brilliant to become "my boy," though in this story we don't see the formation of filial bonds. But readers almost surely accepted that Smith could only be an improvement over Irma and her husband with the sound-alike name.

Gould could have left things that way for the run of the strip. For roughly the next two years, Smith and Brilliant presented other inventions to the city police, though none became as iconic as the wrist-radio. However, in 1948 Brilliant incorporated his "atom light" into "a television burglar alarm," and this was deemed such a threat to organized crime that a racketeer, Big Frost, tried to kill Diet Smith and did murder Brilliant.    

And it's at the point where Tracy ramps up the search for Brilliant's killer that Diet Smith drops the Oedipal bomb. Brilliant was his natural son by Irma, to whom Smith was married for a time. Thus the Oedipal slaying of the true father in defense of the false one was averted, though Smith's secretiveness may have cost him some points with readers. Yet even after Brilliant became the epitome of the loyal son, it seems Gould wanted the dramatic payoff, but without any complications to the strip's status quo. So Brilliant becomes one of the TRACY strip's many casualties, and in future I suspect nothing more is said about the creative personnel behind Diet Smith Industries.    
           
      

MYTHCOMICS: THE INCAL (1980-88)

 

“What piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god! The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?” -- HAMLET, Act 2, Scene 2.

"So much beauty in the center of a world full of garbage."-- Deepo, THE INCAL, Book 3.

THE INCAL, written by Alejandro Jodorowsky and rendered by Jean "Moebius" Giraud, was serialized from 1980 to 1988 in METAL HURLANT magazine, and to date it remains both a popular and critically-celebrated franchise. Yet, for all the phantasmagorical content put forth by Jodorowsky and Moebius, the six volumes present a knotty problem. The rambling storyline is replete with all sorts of symbolism involving the Tarot, the four elements, and a dichotomous object that seems to be the son of the creator-god. Yet Jodorowsky seems inordinately preoccupied with the narrative role occupied by viewpoint character John DiFool, who's as far as one can get from god or angel, but seems to fit the status of "quintessence of dust" pretty well. Thus, with apologies to Milton, I boil down the master trope of THE INCAL to Jodorowsky "justifying the ways of dust to gods and angels."

  Jodorowsky introduced John DiFool, resident of your basic space-opera Earth, the way many PIs are introduced in 20th-century detective fiction. The hero starts out pursuing some mundane or even sordid job and rapidly gets mixed up in matters far beyond his usual experience. A crucial difference, though, is that though a Philip Marlowe usually proves equal to any task that challenges him, John DiFool mostly survives by dumb luck. And where Marlowe possesses a charm for the fair sex, DiFool is purposely given a homely face, so that any women who cross his path are drawn less to his looks than to things like money or power.

  As DiFool narrates to an attentive prostitute, he acquired a strange glowing triangle-- later dubbed "The Luminous Incal"-- from an alien, and no sooner does he return to his apartment than other ferocious beings come looking for his prize. (His pet bird Deepo is probably a callback to the white winged mount who appeared in Moebius' ARZACH stories.) DiFool conceals the Incal by swallowing it, though in the beginning he's motivated only the possibility of profit. 

  

Soon DiFool learns he's out of his league when he's taken prisoner by Earth's utterly corrupt Prezident, but the power of the Incal saves him, as well as conferring the power of speech upon Deepo. On the downside, The Incal starts talking as well, and it drafts the unwilling detective into a quest to find its other half, The Black Incal, in the forbidden realm of Technocity. There it just so happens that the Techno Priest cult has tapped the negative energies of the Black Incal to create a universe-ending threat, "Shadow Eggs," which will unleash a "Great Darkness" that Jodorowsky never explains.

Meanwhile, a professional assassin, the Metabaron, is forced to track down DiFool and his metaphysical companion by Tanatah, who kidnaps the Metabaron's adopted son Solune (Sol + Lune) in order to force the assassin to do her will. It's no coincidence that the tough-as-nails Metabaron fits the standard hero-archetype far more than does John DiFool.

DiFool does acquire the Black Incal, but he gives it away to a beautiful woman riding a giant rat after she kills a Technopriest menacing the detective. Calling herself Animah, she leaves DiFool behind, so that he and Deepo are taken prisoner by the Metabaron. The assassin tries to get back his son from Tanatah, but she takes the Luminous Incal from DiFool and prepares to kill all her prisoners. However, the forces of the Prezident attack Tanatah's stronghold. She makes common cause with her enemies and they hightail it.

Tanatah reveals that she and Animah are both sisters and former guardians of the two Incals, but Tanatah gave the Black Incal to the Technopriests for some vague reason. Since Animah has the Luminous Incal now, Tanatah decides they must all joorney to the center of the planet, an immense garbage dump where Animah and her giant rats live. (Incidentally, Animah is Solune's mother but hls father's identity will be revealed later.) One of the Prezident's murder-machines follows the fugitives to the garbage-world but DiFool and Animah unite the power of the two Incals and destroy the craft.

  

The seven companions journey to the plane of some metaphysical guardians called "Arhats" (a Buddhist term for a seeker who has achieved nirvana). The Arhats in turn convey the travelers to "the heart of the interior sun," where all seven are transfigured, and Solune in particular assumes a half-light, half-dark ritual. It's during this ritual, designed to unite the two Incals, that Animah drops a bomb: that she masqueraded as a prostitute to gather DiFool's seed. because his genetic material was the only one that could birth a unique child such as Solune-- who, BTW, becomes a disembodied intelligence. However, now that the Incals have merged, DiFool becomes peevish at having been used as everyone's pawn.

Now, at this point a lot of space-opera writers would concentrate on the surviving menace of the Shadow Eggs and the Great Darkness they represent. Suffice to say that Jodorowsky and Moebius go off on a lot of tangents not germane to the main plot (particularly various "bread and circuses" satires that become tiresome after a while). The next *consequential* subplot involves DiFool having to spread his unique genetic material into an alien queen, Barbariah. who makes herself look like Animah. The upshot of this subplot is that the detective sires a planet of people who look like him.

Skipping over lots of beautifully rendered filler material, Solune finally confronts the Darkness, whatever it is, and destroys its medium, though not its power. Solune determines that the Darkness can be banished if all humans in the universe participate in a shared "theta dream," which among other things forces DiFool to seek out the world of humanoids he sired on Barbariah. Once all the humans are dreaming in concert, the seven companions must channel the theta energy against the Darkness-- and their efforts cause all but DiFool to sacrifice their lives.      

      

After all these wonder-working tropes, almost the only thing Jodorowsky didn't do was to have his reluctant hero meet God-- so he does. Creator-god Orh informs DiFool that he uses his only begotten son, The Incal, to bring forth "the seed of the new creation." As for DiFool, he's not yet elevated enough to join any new orders, so back he goes to the point where his story began-- taking a big fall that may lead to death, or to enlightenment.

But even if one could not read of DiFool's fate in the sequel FINAL INCAL, most readers would find it unlikely that the recalcitrant reprobate would ever sing any cosmic kumbayas. Clearly Jodorowsky wanted DiFool to represent the unrefined nature of humankind-- though he's certainly far from the only inhabitant of his far-future world who's moved only by egotism and concupiscence. Yet Jodorowsky also imbues the detective with some strange genetic vigor, making him, the arrant fool, the only person who can give birth to Solune, who's something of a humanized Incal, making the Fool the father of the Savior. Despite the suggestions of the her's special destiny, overall there's a strain of Hamlet-esque pessimism in THE INCAL. Jodorowsky may have meant to suggest that for all the metaphysical beauties human beings can conjure forth, they remain composed of dust, and all their infinite faculties will not keep them from returning to dust.          

  

MYTHCOMICS: MONSTER MARRIAGE SHOP (2021-2023)

 I said at the end of HARUM SCARUM that I'd be analyzing a harem comedy that didn't conform to the predominant pattern of the subgenre. MONSTER MARRIAGE SHOP does include a male protagonist surrounded by comely females. many occupying the same domicile, but all the females are yokai, "monsters," after the fashion of the still-ongoing 2012 manga MONSTER MUSUME. Like the influential LOVE HINA, SHOP telegraphs the inevitability of a particular "till death do us part" joining of the male lead with one of the resident females, though SHOP concludes within a mere twenty episodes. I've read enough translated manga that I feel I have the sense of what it looks like when a given manga has been structured for a long run, only to be wrapped up arbitrarily when some editor/publisher cancels the feature. I can't prove SHOP was not subjected to some similar circumstances. But to me it seems that female mangaka Kaworu Watashiya arranged everything in SHOP to come to an ending that she executes to deliver her specific take on the harem comedy-- one in which the "harem" functions a lot like a feminine support group.

At roughly age 9 male lead Yuto Nikao loses his father (about whom the reader never learns anything). At the funeral, his mother Mrs. Nikao (no first name given) comments that at least she still has her only child Yuto to console her-- except that in the wings a half dozen guys are waiting to date a hot widow. Throughout Yuto's adolescence his mother seeks to find a new father for Yuto, but she has terrible judgment, resulting in a stream of users and losers. Freud theorized that every male child would be conflicted once he was old enough to perceive Mommy having relations with Daddy. But though Yuto never thinks he ought to be the man in his mother's life a la Norman Bates, hearing Mommy Nikao have sex with assorted men has a bad effect on his male ego. Freud assumed that the Oedipal male would resolve his mother-complex indirectly, by seeking a mate reminiscent of his mother. Adult Yuto's solution to his complex takes a new wrinkle: he becomes a "marriage advisor," whose mission in life is to do well what his mother did poorly, facilitating good marriages. However, he also declines to seek a mate for himself, deeming himself an incurable "mama's boy" devoted to niche pornography.              

Then one night Yuto gets off his bus in the wrong place, wanders into a forest, and meets his leading lady, werewolf-girl Ururu di Bianca. She guides him into her hidden "monster town," where every resident is a yokai of some sort. Yuto takes his discovery in stride, and perhaps because nothing but his job defines the young fellow, he starts giving the relatively civilized monsters matrimonial advice.

 This state of affairs irritates the love-god Cupid (apparently all sorts of myth-beings occupy Monster Town). Feeling like Yuto's infringing on his territory, Cupid shoots Ururu with a love-arrow. Ururu comes close to de-virginating Yuto, but she's interrupted by a bevy of monster-girls who want the human's marital counsels. Yuto shakes off his near-rape and decides to open a matchmaking service in Yokai-ville. He doesn't realize, despite many subsequent hints, that Ururu has fallen in love with him now, so she and other monster girls start aiding Yuto in his new business.

I won't spend much time on the ancillary monster-girls. Watashiya seems to be following the example of MONSTER MUSUME, but with an important difference. Though two or three of the other beast-babes-- a succubus, a vampire, etc.-- seem inclined to sex up the human, none are really "into" him as Ururu is. Most of the time, the monster girls just hang around the agency waiting to see what happens, alternating between bonding and sniping at each other-- hence, my "support group" characterization. Almost none of them or the short-term customers actually get married, because in Monster Town, Yuto has to overcome his "mama's boy" fixation, and that means that his deflection into work must be invalidated. Not too many of the individual monster-girl stories are symbolically complex, except as they bear on breaking down Yuto's defenses. 

Not until Episode 14 does Watashiya introduce a ticking clock: Yuto's situation loosely parallels that of folklore-hero Urashima Taro, who was (according to the author) unable to leave Fairyland until he had sex-- which is. of course, what Yuto's been avoiding in the real world, to maintain his connection to the mother he still loves. 

Meisa the Gorgon, the intellectual of the group, expands on Yuto's psychology with the concept of the "frog prince syndrome." Frog princes, rather than importuning princesses for kisses, are deeply conscious of being undesirable. Thus their poor self-image justifies pushing away anyone trying to get close.  

Harnis the Succubus comes up with her own theory of building up Yuto: enter his dreams and have dream-sex with him. However, the attempt triggers Yuto's defenses: even in his mind, Yuto thinks his mother is always watching. Yet at the same time, he resents his mother's control and transforms into a gorilla flinging poo at Mom.

Harnis, perceiving that Yuto has shifted his fixation to Ururu, convinces the dreamer to summon the wolf-girl. But here too the punishing mother intrudes, and Yuto conjures up a lupine dominatrix.       

However, Yuto's dream may have some effect in the human world, for no sooner has Yuto awakened and dressed than a giant version of Mommy Nikao intrudes on Monster Town and snatches up Yuto like he's Fay Wray. The monster-girls theorize that the giant is a psychic projection of the human Mrs. Nikao, and if so, this is the only time the character appears in the narrative's "real time." Both Yuto and Ururu try to reason with the giant, but when Mrs. Nikao tries to eliminate the competition, the monster-girls take her down, though Yuto shows his respect to the "mother" before she vanishes.

With the vanquishing of "Queen Kong," Yuto can at last express his feeling for Ururu-- and though she knows he may disappear, she can't stop herself from "wolfing out" and having sex with him-- though this time, he doesn't want abuse but trusts her not to harm him. Yuto does return to the human world, but with a twist: he, unlike Urashima Taro, returns to a time slightly before he departed. So now he has the chance to return to normal life, so will he do so?

Of course not: within one day he's back in the forest, looking for Monster Town. And though he finds his Fairyland, it's a reversal on the trope of the human who returns to a future-world that's forgotten him. This time. the denizens of Fairyland forget that their human visitor ever existed, even though Ururu (possibly) carries his seed. And this comprises Yuto's last hurdle: the guy who had no confidence in himself must tell all the monsters who've forgot him that he knows them all inside-out. And to judge from the last pages, Yuto succeeds in making his lupine lady love him again. The reader doesn't know how much time has passed: only that Camilla the Vampire and a wolf-boy are regarding a bridal picture of Yuto and Ururu, and speaking of Yuto in the past tense. It's a bittersweet touch to the overall happy ending, implying that a mortal can't endure in Yokai-ville as if he was one of them. But if Yuto pays a penalty for love, most readers would consider that a better fate than expiating his trauma in a devotion to the happiness of strangers.     

MYTHC0MICS: "CALL OF THE WILD" (CONAN THE KING #28, 1985)

 

I'm sure it's been at least twenty years since I read an issue of this Marvel magazine, which began in 1980 as KING CONAN and which lasted a healthy nine years, albeit under the altered title CONAN THE KING. It was a relatively high-ticket item, starting at $1.25 and ending at $1.50, and was the last Conan project from Roy Thomas before he left Marvel for DC. I imagine KING was launched for the usual economic reasons, but I'd like to think there was some thought of giving the barbarian a venue more expansive than the regular color comic.

There's a certain irony to Marvel devoting stories to the famed sword-slinger in his mature years, since Young Conan was always the most popular incarnation in prose and in comics. Robert E. Howard devoted one short story and one novel to Mature Conan, but clearly the WEIRD TALES readers liked the hero best when he was a young freebooter ranging from realm to realm. Nevertheless, KING presented Conan at an even later phase of life than Howard ever had. By the time of KING #28-- the last Conan tale for writer Alan Zelenetz-- the barbarian has sired a teenaged daughter and a somewhat younger son by his queen, Zenobia. The text of "Call of the Wild" implies that Conan is sixty years old, though artist Alan Silvestri draws both the barbarian and his red-haired guest-star as if they're merely in their forties.

Despite having ascended to the kingship of Aquilonia, Conan chafes at the confinements of civilized life. He dons a disguise and goes drinking at a lowly tavern. Monarch's business intrudes, so Conan orders everyone to clear the hall. One hooded figure seems minded to defy the King's order but then chooses to leave. 

Back at Conan's palace, his daughter Radegund anticipates her "confirmation" (whatever that means in Hyboria) but her father has conspicuously forgotten the Big Event. He's selfishly mourning the freedom of his younger years, and he departs the castle grounds for the forest. However, his cloaked "friend" from the tavern has apparently followed him-- a good trick, given that she couldn't have known when he'd leave and which way he'd go-- and reveals herself to the startled potentate.    

Unlike Conan, Mature Sonja has remained true to the wanderer's life, never marrying or settling down. She claims to have come to Aquilonia only to fulfill a commission, and to have run into Conan purely by accident-- though she could hardly be ignorant of the barbarian's royal attainments. It's worth remembering that in the first two-part tale of the Marvel Comics Sonja, she tricked Young Conan into doing heavy lifting for her. Mature Conan is delighted to see her and dearly wishes to talk over old times. She scorns his royal ascension, and her refusal to be Conan's nostalgia-buddy very nearly crushes him. But then Sonja switches gears and "allows" Conan to render her aid.

              

Zelenetz could have had Sonja lead Conan to any number of routine treasure-troves-- a lost tomb, a wizard's castle. Instead, Sonja's quest takes them to "a death barge-- sacred to the darkest gods of the nether realm." Aboard the ship, guarded by fanatics, lies the enshrined body of a necromancer, and Sonja's been hired to steal a gem from the dead wizard's eye. The two thieves have no real compunctions against robbing the dead, though in a symbolic sense the Death Barge might represent the world of Death itself, which will eventually consume all living warriors. In fact, Married, Not So Mature Conan can't quite resist getting grabby with Sonja's forty-something charms. Yet he doesn't resent getting her boot in his face, since his desire for the allure of pure adventure surpasses all else.

While Conan kills a bunch of guards (I'm sure they were all Bad People), Sonja steals the jewel-- but the dead wizard retaliates with a spell of deadly smoke. Conan hits on the idea of flooding the cabin, which interrupts the spell for some reason. Sonja keeps only her stolen eye-jewel while Conan randomly takes a "token" in the form of a necklace. Then they swim back to land, leaving the disposition of the Death Barge up to the reader's imagination.

Conan is all for deserting his throne and returning to his old wild ways, but Sonja tricks him one last time, albeit for his own good. Silvestri does a fine job showing Sonja's stoical acceptance that she's no longer a part of Conan's life, and off she rides, leaving him to his kingship-- and implicitly to his queen and children (though Sonja's only comment on the Cimmerian's marital life is a catty remark about Conan having a "harem.") Conan's poised to pursue her-- and maybe, his lost freedom-- when he hears temple bells and remembers that he's got a daughter waiting for him to perform his paternal duties.

     

But "all's well" for the King, whose dereliction of his responsibilities put into his hands just the right sort of booty to be a gift to the daughter he completely forgot. Zelenetz and Silvestri came up with a sort of "family melodrama" take on barbarian adventure, and my vague recollection of the whole series is that it often pursued storylines more in the vein of Hal Foster than of Robert E. Howard. To be sure, the KING series never lets an issue pass where Conan isn't mightily smiting enemies with his iron thews, so a lot of his complaints about civilized life ring false. Zelenetz's title is as ironic as his conclusion, for Conan's trajectory is less like that of Buck in London's CALL OF THE WILD-- the dog who embraces the wild life-- and more like that of White Fang, the star of London's other canine outing, the wolf-dog that finally gives up the wilderness in favor of domesticity. As a further irony, it's the she-devil with a sword-- the hero whose gender is best known for "nesting"-- who remains loyal to the allure of wanderlust.