Stan Lee - Stan Lees Masterclass

IN MEMORIAM

by Roy Thomas

So here we are at the fourth and final volume.

Ive been intrigued to read the previous three iterations, in which Stan presided over lessons in writing and drawing comic books in general, and Marvel-style superheroes in particular.

He was perhaps the ideal person to spearhead such a project; since not only was he the foremost comics writer (and editor) of the last half of the twentieth century, he also served as Marvels art director, officially from the 1940s through the early 1970s, and unofficially for the rest of the latter decade, until he moved to Los Angeles to concentrate his efforts on getting Marvels heroes first into quality animation entries and then into live-action TV shows and films.

Although Stan wasnt an artist, the art director title was not just an honorary one. For decades, he pored over each and every page of penciled artwork, and most inked ones as welland he had a swift eye for a dull figure or poor storytelling.

Besides that, he was, in his own way, a comics fan. He would suddenly wax enthusiastic over a page of artwork, whether it was done by a familiar, seasoned pro or a brand-new recruit. I recall how thrilled he was that day in late 1965 when Jack Kirby turned in the pencils for the Fantastic Four issue that introduced a space-soaring character called the Surfer. Stan, inspired in his own way, christened him the Silver Surfer when adding dialogue to the story, giving him not only a noble nomenclature but a definite color scheme. Thus were his writing, editorial, and art-director skills all put on display in one fell swoop.

Working for and with Stan, from the day I began in early July of 1965 until our last collaboration in the mid-1990s on a comic for the next-released Excelsior line he intended to edit in California, was always an exciting experience. His enthusiasms were as boundless as his abilities. Of course, over the years, he was blessed to work with some of the best artists in the business. In the 1940s and for most of the 50s, there was, above all, the great Joe Maneely, who could draw damn near any kind of story, and do it welland fast . In the latter 1950s, two more prodigious talents wandered into the company, then known as Timely, at a propitious momentJack Kirby and Steve Ditko. Working with them, utilizing not only their manual artistry but also harnessing their considerable brainpower to his own, Stan produced, in a period of three short years, The Fantastic Four, The Incredible Hulk, The Amazing Spider-Man, The Mighty Thor, The Astonishing Ant-Man, The Invincible Iron Man, Nick FuryAgent of S.H.I.E.L.D., Dr. Strange, Captain America, Sub-Mariner, The Avengers, The X-Men, and Daredevil . Even on the handful of characters he did not totally co-create with Kirby, such as Cap and Prince Namor, he left an indelible stamp that turned them into something even greater than they had been before.

It was a joy and a wonder to me to stand, several days a week from mid-1965 through the early 1970s (and even after), at his side and watch him point out the strengths and weaknesses in the artwork for which he had (probably overnight!) written dialogue that had just as much to do with the sales success of Marvel Comics as did the beautiful, power-packed illustrations before him. He knew full well how important his scripting was to Marvels ever-increasing popularity, which is why he had taken so long to hire new writers such as myself, whom he felt he could train to tell stories the way he wanted them told. (Although, even then, we were acutely aware, especially during our early months, how far short of the mark our own efforts fell compared to most of what he wrote. And later, when some of us adequately gained our own voices, so that we could mesh our own ideas and specific skills with what he had taught us, Stan was smart enough to know when it was time to step aside and, at least for the most part, let his fledglings fly or fall on their own.)

Stan wasnt perfect, of course. No one is.

In the end, perhaps he wasnt able to find a way to bridge a growing gap between himself and some of the most talented and headstrong of his artists, such as Ditko, Kirby, and Wally Wood. But, while he hated to see each and every one of those Olympians depart, he felt, at the same time, that he had recruited a new generation of artists to help him carry the torch; the likes of John Romita (with whose help he steered The Amazing Spider-Man to even greater heights), John Buscema (whose Silver Surfer was, for its two-year life, the toast of college students all over the country), Gene Colan (who could combine nigh-photographic realism with heart-stopping superhero action), Jim Steranko (who combined his Kirby influences with pop-art imagination to take things to the next level), Marie Severin (whose humor work alone made her one of the greats), and the list goes on.

Nothing stopped Stan. When I suggested Dr. Voodoo as the name and concept of a new supernatural hero, Stan turned the moniker over in his head for roughly three seconds and then said Brother Voodoo. It was an improvement.

Even when he faltered, as when he proposed a new comic be titled The Mark of Satan , and I suggested that such an approach wouldnt exactly put us in solid with the so-called Bible Belt and maybe Son of Satan was a way to slice the difference, well, once again he thought it over for a passing moment and then told me to go off and do it. Just as he had when I told him about Steve Englehart and Jim Starlins idea for Master of Kung Fu or my own thoughts for a secret-identity kung-fu hero called Iron Fist or when he guided writer Archie Goodwin and me to help him shape the first solo African American superhero, who became Luke Cage, Hero for Hire .

But there isnt a better way to show Stans indomitable spirit than to recount the events of Tuesday, November 9, 1965, and the morning after.

At around 5:30 p m. on the 9th, there was a power blackout over most of the American Northeast, which plunged all of New York City and environs into darkness until well into the next morning. My new fellow Marvel staffer Denny ONeil and I, after being eventually led off our subway train through creepy tunnels by a man with a lantern, gave up on any idea of writing anything that night. I was right in the middle of dialoguing an issue of Millie the Model , but what was I gonna do? No lightnot to mention no electricity to power my Smith-Corona portable typewriter. So Denny and I went out with a friend and sat around talking and carousing by candlelight at a Greenwich Village restaurant called the Red Lantern.

Next morning, we came into the officewalking the sixty or so blocks from the Village because the power was just beginning to come back onand were astonished to find Stan already there, having made it in from his home out on Long Island, with a briefcase full of fully dialogued pages of a Daredevil issue that had needed scripting. Yes, the blackout had hit Long Island as well as Manhattan, but Stan knew that the production manager needed those pages written by the next morning, so he and his wife, Joan, set up what he referred to as a candle brigade to provide just enough lightand, on his manual typewriter, using the two-finger typing method by which he had always done his writing, he scripted dialogue for virtually a full comic book. All while his young acolytes had goofed off and sought the ready excuse of well, theres a blackout!

Like I said, nothing stopped Stan Lee.

Not power blackouts, not defections of artists, not the inevitable ups or downs of comics sales over the yearsnothing.

Well, eventually, Stan left this mortal coil, as all must do one day. But, even though he always insisted that he was not a legacy type of guy, he did leave a legacya legacy that combined talent and hard work, and yes, as he would have insisted, a decent helping of luck from time to time as well.