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Distant Early Warnings
Paul Mavrides: “My earliest ‘art’ memory dates from
when I was two, when I discovered that the contents of
my diaper were suitable for the creation of a large-scale
(to my child-sized point of view, anyway) mural on my
grandmother’s hallway wall. I was told that my father
had to spend several hours deconstructing this seminal
work and was none too happy about the task (for reasons
I didn’t fully comprehend at the time). I was strongly
and physically encouraged by my family to switch to
more traditional painting media.”
Justin Green: “Captain Crow was the first comic book
I ever saw. I saw it when I was four or five. I learned how
to read and write by copying the blurbs over and over
again. Somehow along the way I ingested a whole bunch
of truisms about life. Captain Crow was a lot like Aesop’s
Fables. It was a very moralistic comic and there was
always a point to every story.”
Bobby London: “The first children’s book illustrator
I remember seeing was W.W. Denslow and his pictures
for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. My father brought home
a biography of Frank Baum that reprinted the entire
book. Denslow was my first exposure to print cartooning
and it had a profound influence on me. Puppetry
and animation got to me first, however, and early shows
like Foodini; Kukla, Fran and Ollie; Rootie Kazootie; Howdy
Doody; and especially Time for Beanie opened the door to
the performing arts and got me stage-struck.”
Robert Crumb: “By the age of seven or eight, we had
begun drawing our own comics, and that compelled us
to study comics much more closely. Then the good stuff
started to shine out! We were connoisseurs by age 11. By
then it was obvious to us that most comics were hacked-out
crap, boring, stupid. Outside of the really good storytellers
like Carl Barks and John Stanley, there were only
a few comics that attracted us. I liked Super Duck, which
was completely wacko and still strikes me as imaginative
and funny when I look at it today. I liked Nancy. I remember
reading Nancy while sitting on the toilet.”
Jay Kinney: “I went to the pharmacy in our neighborhood
where they carried Mad in their magazine rack and
tried to buy a copy. But the pharmacist refused to sell it
to me because it was for adults, and I was only eight at
the time. So I complained to my father and thereafter he
would go and buy me Mad each month, until I was old
enough to convince the pharmacist that I deserved it.”
Jay Lynch: “I did a little book called The Vulgarmental
when I was about nine or ten years old. There was a TV
show called The Continental. It was this continental guy
who’d come out in a smoking jacket and mix martinis
and talk to the housewives in a real seductive voice. He’d
say things like, ‘Have a little more champagne, my
darling.’ My character would say things like, ‘My darling,
I see you are growing a tail. Oh no, it is only the
shit coming out of your ass.’ I passed this around to
my friends. Somehow this kid Billy Sullivan wound up
with it and his father was a cop. Billy Sullivan’s father
showed me that he had found this Vulgarmental comic
book in Billy’s possession and warned me never to do
obscenity again or he’d arrest me.”
Jack Jackson: “I was raised on a farm, and being able to
draw is the most totally useless trait in that kind of environment.
It was always discouraged. There were people
in my family that were artistic. They did things like go
out and shoot birds and stuff them or paint pictures of
them. That was acceptable, that was considered an innocent
pastime. But scribbling in pads, filling Big Chief pads
with little pictures of cowboys and Indians and all this...”
George Metzger: “Like a lot of kids who were into
collecting comic books, my parents made me burn my
collection. I collected a lot of newspaper strips and comic
books, and they made me take them out to the incinerator
and burn them. Two weeks later, I was right back at it. It
didn’t work. It just made me feel ill towards my parents.
It was a turning point for me and my parents.”
Skip Williamson: “My introduction to pre-Code comics
came from my father’s younger brother, my uncle Bill
Henry Williamson. He kept a stash of crime, range-rider
and horror comics in a box under his bed. So when we’d
visit my grandparents in Appomattox, I’d try to sneak a
read or two. Also there was a teen-aged baby sitter who
would look after me and my younger siblings who had a
great cache of ECs that she would let me have free access
to. The EC horror story that implanted itself most vividly
in my unfledged psyche was one illustrated by Jack
Davis featuring a baseball game where intestines were
the baselines, a human heart was home plate and a head
was the ball.”
S.Clay Wilson: “I asked my Mom one day, ‘When are
we going to get a TV?’ She says, ‘draw your own pictures’
and threw me a crayon. I’ve been drawing ever since.”
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