Cancelled Trade Cavalcade -- where the Collected Editions blog looks back at some trades that never quite made print. You were going to see a different Cancelled Trade Cavalcade today, but in light of the fact that Suicide Squad Vol. 2: The Nightshade Odyssey suddenly disappeared from DC Comics's release list, we interrupt your regularly scheduled cavalcade.

The 1980s Suicide Squad series has had a long, strange collection history of late. In 2009 or earlier, DC solicited a black-and-white Showcase Presents Suicide Squad that would have collected the series' first eighteen issues plus some crossovers; they cancelled this (twice, I believe) and ultimately released the color Suicide Squad: Trial By Fire, collecting the series' first six issues.

I, for one, considered getting the collecting of the Suicide Squad series in color to be a victory, and I was excited to hear about the forthcoming second volume, collecting issues seven through twelve plus more crossovers.

Except, the week that DC had scheduled the release of Suicide Squad Vol. 2: The Nightshade Odyssey, the book disappeared both from DC's site and from Amazon, at least. There's no cancellation notice so far in DC's release lists, but the book didn't come out as planned.

This is a disappointment, first, for those of use eager to read this Suicide Squad series. It's a disappointment also, however, because each successive Suicide Squad trade would have moved us closer to a collection that included Suicide Squad #23 -- the first appearance of Barbara Gordon as Oracle.

Suicide Squad Vol. 2: The Nightshade Odyssey is only the latest in a string of trades that have recently been cancelled by DC: Doom Patrol: Fire Away, JSA All-Stars: Puzzle Men, and brand new -- Supergirl: Good-Looking Corpse, the collection of final pre-Flashpoint Supergirl issues by Nick Spencer, James Peaty, and Kelly Sue DeCconnick, now appears cancelled.

To be sure, pre-ordering is your friend, to create order numbers such that DC will actually print any given trade, but frankly I'm not sure what could save some of these, these days.

Next week, another Cancelled Trade Cavalcade, and new reviews tomorrow! Don't miss our great discussion going on about the merits of continuity, and also breaking news about the DC Retroactive collections. Thanks for reading!

Number 1041


Al Fago's Atomic Rodent


Alfred "Al" Fago was a comic book editor, writer and cartoonist. The earliest strip I have attributed to him is from EC Comics Animated Comics from 1946, when EC was about kiddie comics and not walking corpses. I showed it in Pappy's #824. A little over a decade later, after spending much of his time at Charlton, Fago founded his own comic book line, which was comprised of ten issues of five different comics. Easy come, easy go...I showed you stories by Dick Ayers from one of Fago's comic books, Tense Suspense, in Pappy's #972.

Fago's most famous creation (for me, anyway) was Atomic Mouse.* Fago created the character in 1953 for Charlton. Atomic Mouse joined the ranks of other superhero cartoon mice: Supermouse and Mighty Mouse. Supermouse ate super cheese, and Atomic Mouse popped Uranium-235 pills. (The inset panel of A.M., with crazed expression, on the final page of this posting exclaiming "Gosh! I'll have to take a couple more pills!" should have disturbed Dr. Wertham.)

I wonder why mice became the good guys in animated cartoons and comics and cats were the bad guys? I depend on my cats to keep mice away, since I don't want them in my house. It saves me the humiliation of standing on a chair shrieking like a girl while a mouse does figure eights on my kitchen floor. I guess maybe it's the David and Goliath thing, the little guy prevailing over the big guy? I'm all for that, but mice? Vermin. Ugh.

Atomic Mouse's nemesis was Count Gatto, a cat of course. These two stories are from Atomic Mouse #4, 1953:














*He also created Atomic Rabbit.

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In 2007 I showed the first issue of Dell's Yak-Yak, illustrated completely by Jack Davis. Yak-Yak is a very oddball comic which is numbered as part of the Four Color series, at #1186. You can find it in Pappy's #200.

There were at least two editions of this issue, one with an ad on the back cover, and one without. Jim Gray has found the non-ad edition and has kindly shared a scan of the back cover. For you completists out there, and for all of us Jack Davis lovers, it's really nice of him to go to the trouble. Thanks, Jim!
While we're talking continuity, I'll close out the day mentioning how pleased I am to see DC soliciting collections of the Superman Retroactive and Wonder Woman Retroactive specials, with Batman, Green Lantern, Justice League, and Flash collections certainly on the way.

Given that each main story in the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s specials was only 26 pages, we can guess that these books will include more than just the three specials themselves, but also the backup stories. That would put each trade at about 168 pages, or about the size of an ordinary paperback trade. If we could get some of the digital-only back-up stories as well, interviews with the creators from those eras, or sketchbook or other bonus material, that'd just be icing on the cake.

I had only grabbed the ones of these whose eras I enjoyed the most and hoped I could find the rest in a back-issue bin some time, figuring the disparate specials of this type probably wouldn't see trade. I'm quite pleased to have been incorrect in this instance, and even better -- if these volumes do contain the backup reprints, it's going to be a blast getting them situated on the DC Universe Trade Paperback Timeline.

Will you be grabbing all the volumes, or picking and choosing? What was your favorite Retroactive?

UPDATE: You can still see where these were solicited online, but it does not look at this point like DC will be releasing them. Oh, well -- would've been fun!
I care about continuity.

... Seems like almost a shameful admission, doesn't it?

I read an "Ask Chris" column by Chris Sims on Comics Alliance the other day (not realizing the column was from January!) and it stuck with me. A reader asks, "Are there any great Superman Stories that are actually part of current DC continuity?" Chris goes on to discuss, in an entirely fair way, that while he's a fan of continuity himself, the fact that a story isn't in continuity shouldn't be a reason to avoid it. Chris rightly says that continuity is "a tool, just like anything else. The problem is when it stops being a tool and starts being a shackle. Not for the creators, but for the reader."

Absolutely right.

Given that I agree with this, however -- and I've enjoyed DC: New Frontier and All-Star Superman and Fables and Y: The Last Man and Ultimate Spider-Man and other sub-continuity or non-continuity comics -- I still find myself feeling a tad ashamed sometimes to say I'll probably pick up all of DC's New 52 collections except All-Star Western because it's not as "tied in" as other titles, or that I picked up the Magog trade even though I didn't have high hopes for it mainly because I thought it was connected to Flashpoint. As if having as continuity one of your primary interests in comics-reading makes you a less pure fan or a "zombie" picking up whatever a publisher produces.

Except I think I finally worked out a paradigm that explains it better.

I mainly collect just one title, I realized, and that title's called DC Universe. Not DC Universe Presents, mind you, but DC Universe, the ongoing story of the DC Comics superheroes. That series is published in a couple of volumes every week (never mind the different names on the books), and the books often look at different corners of the DC Universe more or less simultaneously.

To put it another way, what I enjoy reading about is the DC Universe in its entirety. It's not always a cohesive story -- sometimes Captain Atom's doing his thing over here and Flash is doing his thing over there, but then other times Flash is in Captain Atom's book, or Frankenstein and OMAC are in each others' books, or all the heroes from all the books are in the same book called Blackest Night or Final Crisis or such. As the DC Universe became increasingly interconnected after Identity Crisis and in the lead-up to Infinite Crisis, what I began reading was more or less all the titles, because together they formed a tapestry telling different parts of the same story.

So if I were to forgo All-Star Western for the moment, it's not so much that the book is outside continuity that's important to me (though, from what I hear, there may be continuity ties there, too), so much as the fact that it's just not part of the series that I read, arbitrarily defined as that is. And if I were to pick up the Magog trade even if I hadn't heard great things about it (and then had the gall to be disappointed), I justify that decision in part because that book is a little aspect of the tapestry of my "series."

Certainly, continuity shouldn't keep you from enjoying a good book. But I'd like to see some of the stigma fall away from enjoying continuity, too.
Grant Morrison's JLA was what it claimed -- one couldn't read that title without thinking, "This is the Justice League of America." I felt more tentative about Joe Kelly's JLA run that followed, but somewhere in the middle of The Obsidian Age's time-traveling craziness, I again thought to myself, "This is the Justice League."

Writer James Robinson sets out to accomplish the same in Justice League of America: Omega, and it works. Omega is a superheroic romp of the best kind, a frenetic, messy story stuffed with years of obscurity and continuity and esoteric guest-stars, that sizzles in its conclusion when the heroes snatch victory from defeat. Robinson embodies the characters in a manner different from any of DC Comics's other team book writers at present, and creates a model for what team books can be in more ways than one.

[Contains spoilers]

To be sure, Robinson's Omega is a heady mash-up of a dozen other DC Comics. The alternate-Earth Crime Syndicate of America (a conflation of Grant Morrison's JLA: Earth-2 graphic novel and Kurt Busiek's Trinity miniseries) have infected their own and the Tangent universe (from DC's Tangent fifth week events) with a deadly dark matter, and need to resurrect Alexander Luthor (killed in Infinite Crisis) to reverse the damage (no one acknowledges that the pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths Luthor is not actually the Luthor of their world). Aiding the Syndicate is a band of Apokolips-enhanced villains lead by Dr. Impossible, who instead betrays the Syndicate and tries to resurrect Darkseid (late of Final Crisis). The story involves a number of double-crossed, flashes back to the Countdown to Final Crisis and Day of Vengeance miniseries at least, and even includes the "dark" Supergirl not seen since the early days of the Supergirl series some six years ago.

If it sounds confusing, it is -- gleefully so. Consider the conversation between the title characters at the beginning of the Starman/Congorilla one-shot included here; there's a remarkably text-heavy two-page spread where Congorilla references Green Arrow, Sirroco (briefly of Superman: Camelot Falls) the Shade, and elements of Justice League: Team History and Cry for Justice, and that's all before Animal Man and Rex the Wonder Dog show up. And yet, it's exactly the kind of conversation one might expect two superheroes to have discussing a mission, if there weren't a writer who needed to be concerned what the reader might or might not understand. We've established already that Robinson writes like an Aaron Sorkin screenplay, with enough interruptions and deviations to drive any reader to madness, but in Omega it's elevated to a kind of devil-may-care continuity free-for-all, true to the characters even if the reader gets left behind.

Robinson, however, demonstrates he's cognizant of the weight of all this continuity. I've mentioned before that Robinson's Donna seems "off" in a way, angrier than we think of her in the classic Marv Wolfman New Teen Titans stories. Robinson addresses that here, as Donna considers her own rage, borne from a sadness and tiredness from numerous tragedies, including the death and gross resurrection of her own son during Blackest Night. Donna's anger, however, seems as much directed as her circumstances as it does the architects of those tragedies, the comics writers -- she calls her past "convoluted ... to such a degree that I've long since decided to ignore it, when I'm able." Donna's rage must reflect how daunted Robinson and other writers feel to use this character given how much baggage she carries; in Donna, Robinson gives outlet to the lost reader, simultaneously giving Donna Troy an awareness of the continuity puzzles she poses and also giving her license to ignore them entirely.

Indeed, Robinson's League becomes something of a home for wayward heroes, especially those mistreated by other writers. At the forefront are Donna Troy and Jade, each who have been at times more the foils for male characters of their titles than characters in their own right; in the book's first self-contained chapter, the two agree to a partnership built on their own merits. With Congorilla and Starman on their own for most of the book, Robinson presents a League that is predominantly female, likely a first for the team. Robinson also uses three gay characters -- three is not a lot necessarily, but it's more than one finds in other titles, and it's unlikely Robinson fosters all of this inclusiveness accidentally. Robinson makes strides for diversity in a Justice League title (probably not since Gerard Jones has the League been this diverse) but also this goes again toward how "normal" Robinson's League is, in a way -- just as it's likely superheroes would have continuity-rich discussions, it's just as likely not every hero on a team would be male or straight, and Robinson's League becomes more "realistic" in its difference from the standard fare.

Justice League of America: Omega is the first solo adventure for this League (and, with the DC Relaunch, actually also the penultimate one) and Robinson makes no secret his desire to "legitimize" the team's incarnation in this book. In the previous volume, Dark Things, Starman and Congorilla wonder aloud when they'll be recognized as the Justice League; here, the "Omega" storyline is just underway when Superman himself assures other heroes that this team, the Justice League, will save the day. It's too quick, and with no basis for Superman to believe so, but the story of Washington D.C.'s residents trapped in a dome with only this team of heroes to save them from the villains is very compelling (especially Jesse Quick's underrated role constantly moving the people from spot to spot for three days). In the final pages, a seemingly defeated Batman reveals that his plan to stop the rampaging Omega Man has been in play all along, and it's a twist worthy of Morrison's JLA adventures. This may not have been the Justice League when the Omega started, but it feels that way when they announce themselves in the end.

[Contains original and variant covers. Printed on glossy paper.]

James Robinson has one more volume of Justice League, The Rise of Eclipso, before the title gives way to the DC Relaunch, after which he turns to a new Shade miniseries. I can't really feel disappointed by James Robinson working with the Starman characters again, but Robinson on Shade feels like playing it safe, the writer working with characters he knows and can do with as he pleases. I'd be happy to see Robinson again on a team book, and a mainstream one at that -- his Justice League is out of the ordinary just in the way the comics expanse probably needs.

Coming up this week, new reviews and another entry in our new series, Cancelled Trade Cavalcade. See you then!

Number 1040


From the depths of Hades to Der Fuehrer's face


We have in this Destroyer tale from All-Winners Comics the arch villains of all time: Hitler, Attila the Hun, Madame Satan and her husband, Satan himself.

Well, hard to beat all of those characters for sheer evil.

The Destroyer story isn't credited in the Grand Comics Database, except for a guess the inking is by Al Gabriele. It's very well drawn, full of action. Over the years Hitler has appeared in more comics than most fictional villains. It was a sort of wish-dream to get at him, but as we now know, that was all fantasy. Since this is fantasy might as well load it up with all the bad guys you can fit into a panel. I wonder if Madame Satan ever showed up again? She's very sexy, in a crazy-eyes sort of way.

The story appeared in a 2006 reprint from Marvel Comics, but what I'm showing you is from the original All-Winners Comics #8, 1943:













There's a joke in one panel about Der Fuehrer's Face, which was a popular hit of the day. Here's Spike Jones in a Movietone Newsreel doing a shortened version of the song:


Number 1039


Fredric Wertham, George Washington and the Boy of Steel


I'm showing this Superboy story because it was mentioned in the infamous Seduction of the Innocent by Fredric Wertham, M.D. When you've read the story I have a couple of pages from SOTI scanned with pertinent paragraphs highlighted. Then I have my own opinion of what Wertham said.

I continue to be fascinated by Wertham. He'd be an interesting person to study even if he hadn't gotten into the business of condemning comic books. Click on the Fredric Wertham link in the box below for more of what I've had to say about Dr. W.

"George Washington's Drum" is drawn by John Sikela and Ed Dobrotka, and is from Superboy #2, 1949:












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What did Fredric Wertham have against Superboy?

It's safe to say that Dr. Fredric Wertham, author of Seduction of the Innocent, never met a comic book he didn't hate. He found fault with Superman, who reminded him (a German emigré) of the Nazi superman. Wonder Woman was frightening to boys, Batman and Robin were a homosexual wish dream. The list goes on. Wertham slandered them all.

He also had ways of exciting emotions of his core audience, parents, teachers, even government officials, in his battle against comic books. In the two pages I've scanned from SOTI he used the universal propagandist's tool, turning his enemies' own words against them. He quoted an article from the Child Study Association of America, and quickly established it was written by a writer who worked for the publisher of Superman.* He ridiculed the writer's choice of comic books as being unrepresentative of comic books sold to kids. He gave the writer's words to number 10, Jungle Comics, a twist. As quoted by the article writer, "sometimes women are featured in these stories as captives or intended victims." At the bottom of his paragraph scoffing at this writer's claims he inserted this zinger, ". . .and she tries to make parents believe that the sexy wenches in the jungle books are just "fair maidens"!) The article writer didn't say anything about sexy wenches or fair maidens. Those are Wertham's words, poisoning the well with a negative buzzword ("wenches") and sarcasm ("fair maidens").

Wertham went into the argument against comics with his guns firing, and had the comic book publishers ducking for cover. The industry as a whole knew there were a lot of things in comic books that kids probably shouldn't see.** But kids also went to movies, listened to the radio, and presumably read other material that may have things they shouldn't hear or see. What kid hasn't? (By the way, it's called growing up.) By zeroing in on comics Wertham kept the hatred focused, even if he went askew at times with his arguments. To him the Superboy story focused on a "uniformed superman-youth" rather than "the father of American democracy [George Washington]." But of course it did. It's not a history lesson. It is entertainment, a fantasy like other fantasies of time travel. It used historical characters and events for its own purposes, which is what fiction does. This was his answer to the article writer's claim that "History is often a dull subject. . . .Through comics it could be made a fascinating study." He used the Superboy story as an example of kids getting the wrong historical information from comics. I think the kids who were old enough to read the story had heard of George Washington*** and knew that Superboy going back in time was just fantasy, an extension of the whole concept of a Superboy.

Wertham caps off this paragraph by throwing something in that blindsides the reader: "Similarly, it must be admitted that a lesson about anthropoid apes is less 'dull' when accompanied by a picture of the animal about to rape a girl." Where were we talking about apes raping girls? What does that have to do with George Washington or Superboy or American history? Well, nothing, but in Wertham's mind they must have had equal value: Superboy helping George Washington=ape raping girl. He threw everything into his argument: ridicule, slander, misquotes, non sequiturs and conclusions coming from...where? Of course, he was a prominent psychiatrist, a social reformer, the de facto leader of the anti-comics movement, and if he threw things into his argument that didn't make sense to you, well, maybe you just read too many damn comic books!

*The writer he refers to is presumably Josette Frank, a consultant on children's literature to the Child Study Association of America, as listed in comics published by DC.

**Some self-righteous publishers would say it was the "irresponsible publishers" who put out the disreputable comics. That usually meant EC and its imitators.

***Kids my age during the 1950s and '60s had access to wonderful books like the Landmark series of history books for young readers, when we could tear ourselves away from our historically inaccurate comic books, that is: