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Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #231
Paul Levitz (script)
James Sherman (1), Michael Netzer (2) (pencils)
Jack Abel (inks)
Elizabeth Safian (colors)
Ben Oda (letters)
Joe Orlando (editor)
The Legion of Super-Heroes had cover title billing with Superboy for over thirty issues before this issue. It’s one officially titled Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes in the indicia. Even more—literally—they’re going up to fifty-two pages an issue. To celebrate, writer Paul Levitz, pencillers James Sherman and Michael Netzer (each handling one of the two chapters), and inker Jack Abel deliver an almost perfect space superhero epic. It holds until the very last panel, when Superboy is concerningly malevolent.
Superboy’s mad because the issue’s supervillains—the Legion’s nemesis team, the Fatal Five—have escaped death. During their escape, the Fatal Five tried to blow up the Legion, but failed. So Superboy’s grandstanding about how he’s going to make them pay in their next appearance. It just does not play.
And Levitz’s intentional in this move; earlier in the issue he characterizes Superboy’s attack on the Five’s spaceship focusing on how Superboy’s righteous anger fuels his extreme power. It both does and doesn’t stand out in the moment; Levitz is just saving up headliner Superboy for big moments (this attack is his first foray into the conflict), so it comes with a punch. But it’s also a bit of a strange vibe.
In that earlier scene, Superboy is super mad because the Five are taking advantage of a planet about to explode. According to the narration, he’s thinking about Krypton and the tragedy. It’s emotionally too much for the Boy of Steel. The Legion is on the planet, evacuating all the people, but time is running out. The psychic on the psychic planet (Levitz skates over this absurdity real fast, but there are telepaths in Legion, so sure, why not) saw the star go supernova too late.
It’s a strange spotlight, like Levitz was assuring someone, even though Legion was officially in the title, Superboy would still get featured special.
But once he’s got that first solo attempt out of his system, Superboy mostly syncs with the rest of the team. Levitz delights in his purple exposition with lots of second-person call-outs and thoughtful echoes in the prose. It never gets tedious; he and editor Joe Orlando always seem to know when the narration’s gone far enough and it’s time to focus on the art.
Because even though this issue’s a giant-sized epic featuring five distinct narratives (the evacuation, examining the star, kidnapped Legionnaires, the rescue team, and the leader of the Fatal Five’s plotting), it’s a visual delight. Sherman pencils the first half, opening on two Legionnaires happening across the Five and getting captured, then cutting to the planet-wide evacuation. Great visuals, with varied panels showing off the scale of the evacuation and the rush of the Legion’s work. But where Sherman really gets to flex is Brainiac-5 and friends’ science mission to the planet’s doomed sun; the Emerald Empress with her Emerald Eye attacks them. Thanks to Sherman and Abel—and Levitz, who doesn’t go overboard with the green theme—it’s a dangerous, thrilling fight. Empress thinks she can handle the good guys since Superboy’s not with them (she’s hot for Superboy; sadly, they never get any interaction).
The good guys have to use their specific powers in tandem to counter her successfully. Levitz loves writing about how the powers work. So he lines up action scenes so he can explain the recipe for the superpower combinations.
All with that great art. Space superheroes comics doesn’t get better.
The issue cuts back to the planet for another big action sequence, involving three of the Fatal Five and a growing number of Legionnaires who just can’t quite get an upper hand. Superboy isn’t there to help because he’s about to launch that attack on the spaceship and fail, which concludes the first chapter.
A handful of Legionnaires get a little more than the others, mostly just in dialogue, though sometimes starting a lengthy scene by themselves. It’s a small planet when you can fly, so no one’s by themselves too long.
The second half, featuring Netzer art—while not as strong as Sherman’s, is still excellent (and Netzer gets to do a fantastic, “this should be a poster” full-pager)–has the Legion figuring out the Five’s plan and how to defeat them. The reader doesn’t get all of the information on the latter, because there needs to be some surprise.
Right up until Superboy starts humming a murder ballad, it’s smooth sailing. Levitz’s reveals all drop at the right time, Netzer’s good at conveying the variety of actions (including, of course, Legionnaires with different powers fighting bad guys who have their own different powers). Even something simple like a fight between two giant-sized individuals (good guy Colossal Boy and bad guy Validus) gets complicated with all the regular-sized flying superheroes and villains weaving in and out.
It’s a stellar comic, with Levitz’s enthusiasm in the exposition carrying over the sillier future elements, and then the art starting at a high level and only getting better throughout.
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The Spirit (February 2, 1941) “Davy Jones’ Locker”
Will Eisner (editor, script, pencils, inks)
Joe Kubert (colors)
Sam Rosen (letters)
Davy Jones’ Locker is a straightforward strip, but only because Eisner doesn’t allow it to get bogged down. There’s plenty of potential for it to drift, and Eisner doesn’t want any of it; any tangents would affect the verisimilitude.
The strip opens with a group of sandhogs (underground urban construction workers) deciding they’re sick of the politicians and builders taking credit for their work, so they decide to become underwater robbers. The Davy Jones of the title is their leader, who presumably came up with the idea to steal a section of the underwater tunnel they’d been working on, and use it to destroy and loot merchant vessels.
The story takes place over eight weeks (as usual, presumably the Spirit has other cases during those weeks, but they’re unacknowledged). Jones and his crew convert their tunnel section into a base, loaded with mines. Whenever a large ship full of gold goes over them, they send up a mine, sink the ship, and collect the gold at their leisure.
Those activities raise numerous unanswered questions Eisner avoids asking. He also avoids explaining how the Spirit, inserting himself into the investigation and taking advantage of Dolan’s reluctance to be benched when the FBI arrives, somehow commands a team of Central City’s finest. Who are armed with rifles capable of firing underwater.
There’s lots of underwater battling, but nearly all of it happens off-page. The first skirmish between the cops and the bad guys quickly goes topside, where Ebony and Dolan worry about the Spirit. These sections are good, but nothing compared to when Spirit encounters Jones himself and the two face off. There’s a lot of mood to the art, and there’s a lot of mood to the interaction. Spirit’s at a disadvantage, so’s Jones, and they’ve got to resolve their hostilities (one way or another) before the police’s depth charges find them.
The finale’s got a surprising amount of heart, with Eisner leaning into it to a fine result. Even though the undersea battle only gets cursory attention from the creators, it’s all the characters have been thinking about.
Very little jealous Dolan here, and even less foreign intrigue. There’s just a single mention musing about foreign powers being behind the sinking of the ships. And we get to see the west side of Central City (at least the river) and the plains beyond. Nice landscape work throughout, too.
Locker’s finely executed.
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DC Special (1968) #29

This special is the result of a letter to All-Star Comics about the origin of the Justice Society. Someone wrote in wondering about the canon, and, after diligently doing some research, DC staffers discovered the 1940 comics didn’t come with an origin issue for the Justice Society. The team was already together in their first appearance. So the All-Star team of writer Paul Levitz, penciller Joe Staton, inker Bob Layton, and editor Joe Orlando are doing the first-ever origin of the Justice Society of America right here.
It’s not good. It’s not a good story, let alone good origin story. Levitz front-loads the narrative, too, and not just in terms of pacing; the Spectre will eventually show up in the comic and be able to kill anyone with a glance. He will not, however, be able to impede in any way the enemy demigod Valkryies. Now, the Valkryies—the exposition boxes point out multiple times they’re German (called to Earth on the side of the Führer), though it sure sounds like they’d know Thor (and he’d be on the Nazi side). The human heroes will either be able to jostle the Valkyries easily or they will be utterly impervious to all pain and damage.
Including from the Spectre.
So there are no real stakes in the comic. Not even when it comes to the team-up value. Nine of the world’s most powerful mortals (though the Spectre and Dr. Fate aren’t really mortal) meet for the first time and it’s done without dialogue and just a bunch of handshaking. None of the heroes have much personality: Superman will be a dick, but otherwise, it’s just Dr. Fate. And only because he’s the one who knows what he’s doing. And the Atom gets a lot more dialogue in the second half than anyone else. This comic is always trying to find new levels of perfunctory.
There are a handful of solid moments. The Spectre reaching out over a Nazi fleet is cool. Except then he’s got no significant advantage fighting the Valkryies. In the exposition, Levitz routinely tracks how many heroes are fighting the good fight and how the increasing numbers and power sets never help. It’s weird. Especially when he uses it to set up Superman, who will come in and save the day, talk shit about not being some touchy-feely foreigner, which FDR will cosign, and then Supes will demand “Justice” is in the title of their club.
The art’s often odd. The Batman take is visually very Adam West, not Bob Finger. Staton and Layton do not do a good Superman. As a reader of All-Star, which had at one point Wally Wood (and Keith Giffen) doing very careful, respectful, Golden Age Superman—-it’s jarring. Not only isn’t it good, he looks forty-five.
But the Franklin Delano Roosevelt… good grief. Levitz writes FDR as a vapid jingoist while Staton draws him… puffy. Like exaggerated puffy; like a blowhard. It’s very strange. The Special feels like it’s being targeted at seven-year-olds in 1940, while acknowledging they’re in their forties now. By creators whose nostalgia—even when they bother with it—never comes off as sincere.
They do get through it, which is an accomplishment for all involved–particularly the reader—but it is a combination of wasted opportunities, bad ideas, and creative limitations.

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The Spirit (January 26, 1941) “The Conquistadores”

The strip takes place in Mexico, where the Spirit foils an attempt by some treasonous Mexican army folks to side with foreign powers to overthrow the government. The foreign powers are presumably German, but Eisner’s still not being specific.
But Spirit doesn’t show up until page three, with the strip opening instead on a young man named Pedro arriving in town to tell everyone about enemy aircraft. No one believes him, so he keeps trying; the sequence gives Eisner and studio the chance to do some slice-of-life panels for the village. Lots of good little panels establish the setting before the action turns to the villains.
Using their silent bombs, the bad guys take out a different village, which is explained in the expository text, but, visually, it seems like it’s the opening village. These silent bombs do all the damage and exploding of regular bombs, only with no sound whatsoever. All of a sudden, Spirit’s flying car becomes a lot less far-fetched.
The Spirit arrives and tries to take on the baddies himself, only to get captured and dropped out of a flying plane. Luckily, he’s got those gymnastics skills and is able to save himself; he then comes across Pedro and enlists him in the effort.
There’s a somewhat complex setup involving Pedro using the silent bombs against their makers while Spirit goes in for the direct approach. The last few pages have some wonderful art, whether Spirit’s fisticuffs or the bad guys walking around the ensuing wreckage.
The strip feels a little forced with its politics, and, despite the villains being indistinct, spends a lot of time with them. Spirit’s never really the protagonist (it’s either Pedro or the bad guys running scenes); he’s presumably in Mexico on assignment from the U.S. government. It’s never clarified. Missed opportunity for a very humorous scene of Spirit gassing up the autoplane for his approximately two-thousand-mile trip.
Eisner’s characterization of Mexico has the accent and portrays all of the villagers as so layabout they literally do nothing but layabout, while also putting Mexico as comparable to the United States as both countries threw off the imperial yoke. A 1941 version of ahistorical good vibes.
The art, action, and timing make up for the rockier bits.

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The Spirit (January 19, 1941) “Pancho de Bool and Peppi Tamale”

Eisner wastes no time getting this strip started—the first panel has Commissioner Dolan asking daughter Ellen what ever happened with her former beau, Homer Creep (né Creap). She hasn’t seen him since he was last in the strip, getting some loving attention from a nurse after Ellen threw him over for the Spirit; she never wants to see him again.
So, of course, he knocks on the door with a wife in tow, one Peppi Tamale. Eisner and studio are introducing Cubans this strip, which—outside making fun of the accent—doesn’t require much buckling up.
Homer and Peppi got married in Havana and are now on the run from her murderous thug brother, Pancho the Bull (spelled Bool because accents are funny). Pancho is on his way to Central City to find the man who’s run off with his sister.
Hearing all this drama, Commissioner Dolan orders police protection for his house (Peppi’s going to stay with them until things blow over). The Spirit (and Ebony) hear that order on the police scanner and, thinking Ellen’s in danger—despite telling Ebony she’s a “silly” and not a love interest—Spirit zooms to her rescue.
At the same time, the gangs in Central City are running up against Pancho and his men. And losing. So they all plan to band together and take out Pancho, except the cops know they’re planning on banding together. Dolan’s able to counter their attempted attack properly.
Meanwhile, things at the Dolan house get complicated when Ellen pretends she’s the one in danger to get the Spirit to swoon over her—Ellen and Peppi sadly don’t pass Bechdel, but it’s nice for Ellen to have a pal for once. Except then one of the gangsters comes to the house, actually looking for Ellen as retribution for Dolan launching the counterattack on the gangs. And Ebony may not know what he’s looking for when standing guard for Pancho.
There’s a lot of iffy sight gags for the finale (Eisner’s got a bit lined up for Pancho, not racial; the strip thinking the accent’s a laugh riot doesn’t help the bit), but also some absolutely beautiful action pages, as well as just great narrative building. It’s the first strip of the year to flex, albeit in some problematic ways. It also gives Dolan a full arc separate from his Spirit jealousy, which is nice. Well, maybe not for Dolan. The last page’s a lot of fun.
