There are a few things I know to be stone, verifiable truth, after having splashed and wallowed gleefully in the mainstream American comics medium for mumbledy-something years, now.

Example "Jack 'King' Kirby was (and remains; even post mortem) the true spiritual and creative progenitor of what we recognize and reference, today, as 'the super-hero comic book.' " [SEE "GOD SAVE THE KING Resolving the Question of Silver Age Marvel Authorship...Once and For All" ]
Example "Carl Barks is (and remains) the single greatest, most relentlessly innovative storyteller with which the American comic book has ever been manifestly blessed." [SEE Carl Barks' DONALD DUCK and UNCLE SCROOGE ]

Example "Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of every thousand... adaptations of prose science fiction classics into a mainstream comics format bite the fabled hairy root. AND chew. VIGOROUSLY."

The one, sole exception, out of that aforementioned thousand "... unless the comics scripter in question actually happens to understand and respect the storytelling conventions of prose science fiction."

Let's talk 70's Marvel Comics scripter Tony Isabella.

Let's talk UNKNOWN WORLDS OF SCIENCE FICTION.

I remember being at a New Year's Eve party in Nashville, Tennessee --organized and hosted by hotshot SF fans Ken and Lou Moore -- when someone handed me a copy of the first issue of UNKNOWN WORLDS OF SCIENCE FICTION.

The gentleman handing me said magazine stated, by way of explanation "Looks like someone at Marvel finally figured out how to do it right."

That "someone" was Hugo Award winning novelist Allen [ORBITAL DECAY; THE JERICHO ITERATION; etc.] Steele.

(Okay... okay granted, he wasn't "Allen-the-Hugo-winner" back then, twenty-five years ago. Then, he was just "Allen-the-guy-who-liked-

fastening-firecrackers-to-'Major Matt Mason'-spaceman-dolls-and-

blowing-them-up-real-good"; the guy who first turned me on to science fiction, way back in Mrs. Gooch's third grade class at Robertson Academy Day School, by loaning me a battered copy of Daniel Keyes' FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON. Still he's got dem dere Hugo Awards up on his shelf now, by golly! You go, Allen -- !)

Several other attendees at said wing-ding opined similarly effusive sentiments of the magazine in question. SF novelist Charles Fontenay; sui generis SF illustrator Frank Kelly Freas (along with his wife, Polly). SF novelist Gordon R. Dickson. Folks like that, there.

Understand this was anything but an "easy" room, impressing-the-

pants-off-of-'em-wise.

During its (regrettably) brief existence, UNKNOWN WORLDS managed to accomplish something which the mainstream American comics medium hadn't done since the long ago days of the old "E.C. Comics" Ray Bradbury adaptations:

It took some of the signal, keystone works of prose science fiction...

... and (may God strike me dead if I lie) managed not to "Buck Rogers" 'em into total, screaming, imbecilic incomprehensibility.

(... and if that seems like "praising-with-faint-damns" to some of you, out there then you've obviously never read an issue of STAR HUNTERS. Or ROM SPACE KNIGHT.)

The four, five or six stories within each issue of UNKNOWN WORLDS were bracketed by nicely conceived and executed little "vignettes" based upon the concept of "slow glass" (as per the classic Hugo-winning Bob Shaw short story of the same name); a reflective agent by means of which brief snippets of time could be captured and viewed by an astute observer.

The recurring character within these pre- and post-story codas was an antiques dealer by the name of "Sandson O. Tyme" (the balding, bespectacled gentleman in the sample provided above)...

... and the writer of said pieces was (boy... can I "segue" with the best of 'em, or what...?) Tony Isabella.

Probably the most intelligently executed (and most fondly remembered) story to appear in UNKNOWN WORLDS was an original Isabella offering the George Perez illustrated "War Toy."

"War Toy" concerns the brief (and unhappy) "life" of an artificial military construct code-designated "FM-1" [i.e., "Fighting Machine-1"] an automaton created solely and specifically to take the place of "real," flesh-and-blood soldiers on the battlefield, re the armed conflicts of the near future.

Human prejudice, however -- even after the luckless "FM-1" has distinguished himself (no one, upon reading this story, could possibly elect to refer to him as an "it") on the field of battle; on humanity's collective behalf -- robs the courageous creature of his opportunity to perform the single function for which he was designed in the first place --

[FM-1 "Sir... I've only been programmed for military service." [Pause] "Where do I go to re-enlist...?"]

[GENERAL "You don't." [Pause] "The Army has considered the matter, and has concluded that having even one robotic soldier --" [Pause; smiles a chill and implacable smile] " -- would set a bad precedent."]

-- and forces the all-too-human "FM-1" into the only decision he can make, ultimately.

Mind, now it's not as if Mr. Isabella was the only fellah involved with UNKNOWN WORLDS to turn in some thoughtful and perceptive work on its behalf. Bruce Jones (later of TWISTED TALES and ALIEN WORLDS fame) contributed some eminently worthwhile stuff; Gerry Conway's adaptation of Robert Silverberg's "Good News From the Vatican" was an A-1 job; and writer Roy Thomas (along with criminally underrated artist Alex Nino) collaborated on a re-telling of Harlan Ellison's (deservedly) immortal " 'Repent, Harlequin!' Said the TickTockMan" that (basically) just bloody kicked out the storytelling jams, is all.

However Tony Isabella was one of the vanishingly few Marvel Comics writers of the day who genuinely seemed to understand that "dumbing down" a classic prose science fiction tale for translation into the comics medium seldom (if ever) did either one of the two any real storytelling "favors," push come to shove...

... and of all the writers to turn in original works of science fiction for the Marvel black-and-whites from the era in question... he was the only one (other than, perhaps, the aforementioned Conway; whose published novels THE MIDNIGHT DANCERS and MINDSHIP -- while by no stretch of the imagination "classic" stuff -- do serve as pedigree) who actually displayed compelling evidence that he'd both read and understood the stuff, prior to the whole UNKNOWN WORLDS thing.

Yet another example of this (demonstrable) familiarity and facility with the conventions of science fiction on Mr. Isabella's part could be found within (of all things) the pages of Marvel's black-and-white THE LEGION OF MONSTERS. [See cover reproduction, below]

(Boy... can that guy Neal Adams whip up one poke-their-little-fanboy-

eyes-out cover, or what...?)

In the course of a ten-page tale which was originally conceived of (one gathers) as the introductory "chapter" of a planned ongoing series, Mr. Isabella's clever "Vengeance Crude" -- concerning the genesis and initial adventure(s) of a creature dubbed (rather luridly, I'll grant you) The ManPhibian; and attractively penciled by the polished Dave Cockrum -- displays an easy, knowing familiarity with the storytelling "grammar" of classic science fiction; wedding them to the dictates of the adventure comics genre, in turn, with both flair and good humor.

The scaled-and-silent protagonist of this tale -- an interplanetary explorer; one who has (the captions so inform us) lived and journeyed "... for ten centuries... and across a hundred worlds" -- is remorselessly stalking the insane, equally-mute member of his species who cold-bloodedly butchered his (the "ManPhibian's," I mean) life-mate; an act wholly uncharacteristic of these creatures and their pacifistic, coolly-intellectual ways. ("He was the first of your kind to raise hand or weapon against another in untold eons. And you -- Prime Mover forgive you -- are the second.")

While in pursuit of his deranged foeman/kinsman, the ManPhibian -- whose every waking moment is all but consumed by the cold and unquenchable fires of memory, re his murdered bride (" 'To seek vengeance would be to become as mad as he,' the Elders had said... but they had not lost their mates.") -- is (falsely) accused, in turn, of visiting similar harm upon the helpless wife of a powerful industrialist... adding yet a third player to the board; one whose own motivations (misguided as they might be) are eerily synchronous to the ManPhibian's own.

All of this, in a scant, breezy ten pages, mind.

Just makes it look so damnably easy, doesn't he...?

Marvel (or DC; or Dark Horse; or some-bloody-body) ought to give this man stewardship over a new "anthology"-style science fiction comics magazine...

... or -- at the very least -- allow us to find out whatever became of the ManPhibian's silent and obsessive quest, f'chrissakes.

Yeah, yeah... I know "... and I want a pony next Christmas, too."

The Marvel black-and-whites of the '70's (a topic -- I've only just now realized -- the surface of which I haven't even decently begun to scratch; there's still so much left to be said regarding Steve Gerber's moody and cerebral TALES OF THE ZOMBIE; the Bill Mantlo/George Perez duo's The White Tiger, in the later issues of DEADLY HANDS OF KUNG FU; Don McGregor's endearingly loopy "Sherlock Holmes" pastiche, Hodiah Twist; etc., etc.) were a stone bargain, back in their storytelling "day"...

... and they still are, miraculously enough. The books are severely underpriced (when they can be found as "back issues" at all, I mean); and anyone wishing to score a quick'n'easy armloaad or three of the things would be well-advised to make a point of attending the next available good-sized comics convention in their immediate area.

You've all seen the three pages preceding, campers.

You know Unca Cheeks is on to something, here.

I'm just sayin', is all.

The MARVEL Black-and-White Magazines of the 1970's PAGE ONE

The MARVEL Black-and-White Magazines of the 1970's PAGE TWO