The History of Underground Comics (1974)

I grew up in a small town in Ohio. It was Mayberry. We had the classic corner drugstore in the center of town where I could puchase all the mainstream titles, but I slowly became aware there was a whole lot more out there somewhere, comix that I had never seen. Underground Comics. Man, that even sounded cool! I had a subscription to Creem magazine, and there were small ads for Undergrounds in tha back, but what to order? I knew who Crumb was, thanks to the Keep on Truckin’ stuff you saw everywhere, but I knew nothing about his comics. Then one day I was at the mall and wandered into Walden’s Books, as I usually did, to pick over the sci-fi selections. Yawn. Nothing new. But hey, what’s this? The History of Underground Comics? Sold! It amazes me that they carried this thing at Walden’s. I mean, the logo is actually a big veiny penis! But they sold it to me without hesitation. It’s a who’s who of undergrounds, with samples of all the greats and the their bibliographies. It was my first exposure to Gilbert Shelton and Spain and Spiegelman and Bill Griffith. I could then send away for those undergrounds. Sign here to prove I’m 18? Why sure, Mr. Comix Dealer!

Big Ideas, Lynda Barry (1983)

This is Lynda’s second collection of cartoons from early in her career when her comics were incredibly wild and punk. I think some of them may be from her college days. I was working as an art director at the Cleveland Plain Dealer in the late 80s, and was bored stiff and miserable. I wanted to get back into comix, but was unsure what I wanted to do, or how to do it. I ran across this book at one of the Cleveland bookstores I haunted. I read it once, thought “I could do something like this” and promptly tossed the book away. Think I left it on a train seat. I didn’t want to copy anyone. I was also aware of the other alt-cartoonists like Groening and Tom Tomorrow, since they ran in my local weekly, The Cleveland Edition, but it was Lynda who planted the seed in my brain. I quit my job, holed up in my studio and came up with The City. A year later it debuted in the same Cleveland Edition and I was on my way.

Fantastic Four #102 (Note: this is a scan of Derf's actual copy of FF 102.)

In July 1970, I was 10 years old and on vacation with my family at a lakeside lodge in Ontario. We’d been vacationing here all my life and it was a magic place, as these boyhood spots often are. The lodge had a gift shop in one of the main buildings, called the “Tuck Shop”, for some reason. It was full of souvenir pennants, t-shirts and fake Indian totem poles, that sort of thing. Mainly I went there to purchase the day’s allotment of strange Canadian candy. But on the back wall, behind the counter, safe from sticky, sandy hands, was a wall rack of comix. I’d never had much interest in comic books before, but this day, on a whim, I pointed to FF #102 and parted with 15 precious cents. This was Kirby’s last issue, the first part of yet another war with the perpetually pissed-off Prince Namor. Some of those last Kirby Marvels are a little weak, since he was already secretly working on The Fourth World, but this issue is a beaut, just masterfully drawn and paced. As I walked barefoot back to our cabin, I read it, while wolfing down a candy bar. I read it again on the front porch. Then again. I went back to the Tuck Shop and bought more. By week’s end, I had cleared the rack. And that was it. I was lost. Would it have been the same had I selected a lame book instead of a Kirby one? Probably not!