Who Purged My Comic Books? – Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Monday, September 28, 2020

 

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In writing last week of how painful it was for me to jettison books, I was reminded of what happened to my comic books some years ago. I was also reminded of Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, one of my favorites, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay.

In the novel, Kavalier and Clay become major figures in the comics industry from its nascency into its Golden Age. It is a stunning novel in which the poignant adventures of two young prodigies reveal much of what happened to America in the mid-twentieth century. The novel’s heroes collaborate to create the supermen, stories, and art for one of America’s greatest and well-loved novelties: the comic book. It is an amazing walk through the comic book industry, and I loved every bit of it. Yes, I have read the book twice and now, with memories of it tweaked, I will read it again.

In the 1950s, my friends and I caught the comic book frenzy. We bought and swapped but, being somewhat possessive, I stopped buying and trading because the eighty-six I owned became so personal.

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I kept them in a safe place: the bottom drawer of the large bureau in my bedroom, just under Dad’s pristine copy of the Providence Journal’s 1938 Hurricane issue.

The books were an entertaining escape. The stories were just plain good; believable conflicts with good and bad guys, just like in the movies. I read them repeatedly, submersing my latest read to the bottom of the pile. It took weeks to read the cycle. When I returned to the first the comic was refreshed.

My eighty-six comics were a big-league collection with an all-star cast: Superman, Captain Marvel, Green Lantern, Batman, Tarzan, Plastic Man, Wonder Woman and my cowboys, Roy and Gene. Because I had seen Roy and Gene live at The RI Arena, their books became even more personal.

I read about Donald Duck and his mischievous nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Nancy, Sluggo, Archie and Mary Jane and Sniffles were in the pile. I had a warm spot for Archie and his friends because they hung out at a soda shop much like the one my friends and I visited after the Friday night movies.

I owned a few of the Classics Illustrated. Ivanhoe, The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers gave me some comfort that these comics were literature. After all, they were Classics. They absolved me of some guilt of not reading the real thing, and I could say, “Yes” when the teachers asked me if I had read any of them during summer break.

The comics had their cheerful and sad moments.

Cheerful, because they were just plain fun. Good guys defeating the enemy, teenage stars, daredevils taking chances and heroes always winning. As I became absorbed with their escapades, they made me feel good.

Sad, because one day they were gone, vanished. I am not sure what happened to them. Maybe Dad threw them out in a purge. Maybe I did.

I could have cried.

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Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.”  Learn more here

 
 

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