“That’s When All The Gimmicks Are Over…” A Review of ‘Slugfest: Inside the Epic 50 Year Battle Between Marvel and DC”

The first thing I’d like to do is give Reed Tucker credit for taking the time to sift and compile both well known and lesser known information into a cohesive and mostly engaging narrative that will keep you occupied on a train ride and that’s not faint praise, I promise. While this is notable for being the fifty year epic battle, being as it begins, for the most part, at the cusp of the “Marvel Age”, it will give necessary background towards the history of both publishing giants.

A minor point of criticism is purely a personal one and does not distract too much from the overall business at hand. Tucker as a writer has an informal style at times and adds pop culture references in the way Wizard Magazine once did this admittedly made my eyes glaze over at times. An example:

“And as with any business, innovation is everything. It’s the key to success, and a single groundbreaking leap forward can shake up an industry, blaze new trails, and reverberate in the industry for years or even decades to come. It can literally change the world. Apple did it with the iPhone, George Lucan did it with Star Wars, and Taco Bell did it with its transcendent Doritos Locos Taco.” (prologue, pg. xi)

Well, okay. I’ll survive the references to Taco Bell and Amanda Seyfried. Tucker is a good writer and credit is given where it is due. But my major point of criticism is that, like too many other writers of varying talent, Tucker falls into the common trap of the intoxicating and storybook narrative of Stan Lee “doing it his way” and defying his publisher to create the Marvel Universe. Due to other instances of Tucker either pointing out contradictions or calling out double standards within the industry, this made his embrace of the Lee narrative all the more disappointing, for he seems smarter than that. But let’s get into the book, Slugfest: Inside the Fifty-Year Battle Between Marvel and DC (2017) which I do encourage anybody with an interest in the history of both the medium and the business of comics to pick up.

“It was being run by a middle-aged, wannabe novelist who had toiled in the comic business since he was seventeen… burnt out and sensing the futility of his career, he finally resolved to do something he should have done years earlier had he any hope of earning a decent wage and a modicum of self-respect: turn off the lights, close his office door behind him, and walk away from the comics business for good. But like an aging detective in a bad cop movie, he couldn’t retire until he gave it one last shot. That wannabe novelist was Stan Lee…” (pg. xii)

See above in regard to my rejection of this narrative, which I understand is very relatable and helpful to anyone crafting a history and/or a story about the history of Marvel. Lee was not a “wannabe novelist” or he’d have surely written that novel by 1961- in the years before he had branched out several times, attempting to break away from Goodman by self-publishing and trying his hand at syndicated newspaper strips. All failed- to be fair, not entirely because of Lee but also the marketplace of that time- but it shows that Lee, who commonly only came into his office 2-3 times a week- had ample time to write the Great American Novel he claimed he always saved his “real name” for.

“Infantino, who still swore that Marvel would be out of business in a few months, just grumbled.” (pg. xiv)

Statements like this are to be taken with a grain of salt and originate from hearsay or other people’s perceptions. For all his faults, it’s highly unlikely that Infantino would think Marvel would be out of business in a few months at any point.

“Lee had gotten wind of the DC strategy meetings and the changes that came out of them, and he took great glee in countering his rival, move for move. When DC decided to load up its covers with more word balloons in an attempt to emulate Marvel, Lee responded by making his covers less wordy. When DC started splashing red on its covers, Lee stopped altogether.
“It didn’t make any difference in the sales”, Lee said in 2000. “It must have driven the crazy. We played this little game for months…. they never caught on.” (pg. xv)

This was a later day example of Lee inventing his charming and entertaining stories for journalists; while it’s true that professionals that had worked at DC at the time like Romita Sr. and Shooter remembered such meetings at DC over Marvel’s growing success, it’s highly unlikely that Lee reacted with a mischievous and thought out plan to thwart them with covers. This was researched in 2012 by a historian who could not find evidence of Marvel covers dramatically changing during this time period and is most likely just a case of Lee spinning the knowledge that DC once discussed the covers into another anecdote for the beaming press.

“The official version goes like this: One day in 1961 Goodman was playing a friendly game of golf with DC’s Jack Liebowitz when Liebowitz began bragging about the sales of his new Justice League of America, a title launched in 1960. Both men later insisted they never played golf together.” (pg. 17)

Credit where credit is due: Tucker correctly points out the fact that both men always denied this, knowledge which has been available for years and is regularly ignored by either lazy writers or writers who don’t want to disrupt the popular story of Lee’s creation myth.

“(Goodman) said, ‘Hey, maybe there’s still a market for superheroes. Why don’t you bring out a team like the Justice League. We could call it the Righteous League or something,” Lee recalled in 1977. “I worked for him, and I had to do what he wanted, so I was willing to put out a team of superheroes. But I figured I’ll be damned if I’m just going to copy (DC).” (pg. 17)

Included partially so that I might make a public apology to Bob Batchelor, who quoted this ridiculous name in his book ‘Stan Lee: The Man Behind Marvel‘, which I reviewed and cast doubt on this anecdote. It turns out Lee did say this in 1977, and I admit my fault in doubting Batchelor’s inclusion of it. But also included because Lee’s righteous tone of defiance (“I’ll be damned if I’m just going to copy..”) is a retroactive falsehood. He had no other real career except working for Goodman and his attempts at breaking away had all failed, so one doubts his tone and attitude was as bold as he says.

“…and the setup had some echoes of a book Kirby had done for DC in 1957, Challengers of the Unknown, about a group of four adventurers who survive a plane crash and tackle missions.” (pg. 18)

Again, credit due. Most writers choose to ignore- or worse, are completely ignorant of Kirby’s Challengers though they publicly claim to be historians– the evidence of the Challengers predating the Fantastic Four. But Tucker rightfully includes it.

“There’s something fundamental about the environment in which these heroes were imagined,” says Joan Hilty, a DC editor from 1995 to 2010. “All of DC’s heroes are royalty. Superman is the last son of an alien planet. Batman is a super-rich guy. Wonder Woman is a princess. Green Lantern is a top-line fighter pilot. Aquaman is the king of the sea. All of these heroes came out of the 1930s and ’40s during World Wars and a desire to find arch types that could save entire countries. DC characters are too perfect and pegged to a different time.” (pg. 20)

I felt this was a fair assessment of DC’s characters. I also believe that Kirby and Ditko’s working class, blue collar roots infused a certain amount of grittiness into the early Marvel characters and stories.

“Lee walked out of that meeting thinking, “This demonstrates how some people in big positions are idiots” (pg. 30)

This apparently happened when Lee walked out of a meeting with Goodman, who told him people didn’t know what a mutation was. I highly doubt that Lee thought this and instead invented it for his glossy recollections to the press.

“…and before he left the stage, he couldn’t resist taking one final dig at Lee. Drake ended his speech by breaking into an acapella song he’d written that included the line, “I hears somebody said it/ that Stan Lee would take credit / for Spider-Man to the King James testament.” Many in attendance gasped. (pg. 32)

This was Doom Patrol creator Arnold Drake calling out Lee for apparently ripping off many of his ideas for the X-Men while accepting an award in front of collected industry professionals.

“Brave and the Bold #74 (November 1967) opened with Batman acrobatically twirling around a flag pole, boasting, “Here’s one I did before anybody, including a certain web-spinning Peter-come-lately!” The Spider-Man insult aggravated some Marvel fans. (pg. 33)

Included here purely because I found this amusing and hadn’t known about it before. I do find Marvel fans being aggravated at all over this highly ridiculous but not surprising.

“Lee was hurt and confused. “I used to wonder why he left,” Lee said in 1993. “I think he wanted to prove how good he was without me, but I have no way of knowing if that’s right.” (pg. 64)

Was Lee hurt and confused, or was he concerned at the loss of his major generator for stories and ideas? There’s no way Lee could be confused and his regular stance of “we never spoke about it” etc. was a way to shield Lee from having to address Kirby’s actual issues rather than deny or elaborate on them outright.

“Kirby felt Lee was hogging all the credit for Marvel’s success, and Kirby also despaired that the company was distancing him from his creations. When a Silver Surfer solo comic had been launched in 1968, it was John Buscema who’s been tapped to pencil it, not Kirby, the character’s creator.” (pg. 64)

Again, credit to Tucker for correctly attributing creator credit to Kirby for the Silver Surfer. It’s worth pointing out again that Lee’s solo Surfer series of the Sixties was much lauded as his big important- and solo– statement in comics, but Jim Shooter revealed in 2021 that he actually had to plot some of the Silver Surfer series for Lee, which was surprising even to me as so much had been made about Lee’s work on the title.

“But I thought to myself: Who do you think you just got? You guys just landed the top artist in the business, and you want him to draw like everything you’ve been publishing for twenty years?” (pg. 66)

Mark Evanier said this in regard to Infantino instructing the DC offices to redraw Kirby’s Superman heads. What’s notable is that two years prior, Evanier had publicly stated- and often, at that- that Kirby was a “mediocre artist at best” and was so prolific in his anti-Kirby statements in the Yancy Street Gazette publication that Roy Thomas himself alluded to Evanier’s multiple criticisms and insults of Kirby in a bemused fashion. Notable because of how Evanier quickly shifted and grafted on to Kirby for position and job security, which we will explore much more in a future entry.

“Mike Sekowsky once told Kirby’s assistant that, to Infantino, having Kirby’s Superman redrawn was about scoring a victory over Marvel. It was proof that Marvel’s star artist still wasn’t good enough to cut it at DC. (Infantino denied the accusation.) (pg. 66)

There was a prevailing thought that Kirby was courted by DC less because of a sincere interest in Kirby’s talents and more because of a serious effort to hurt Marvel.

“The series introduced a host of new characters, many of whom would become DC universe mainstays.” (pg. 67)

Relates to Kirby’s FOURTH WORLD characters who have indeed had a lasting presence in DC and pop culture, as evidenced by their use in modern DC films. Consider this when you hear the inevitable “Kirby wasn’t as good without Lee” argument.

“I felt Funky Flashman was a nasty business”, Roy Thomas says. “I think Stan was a bit hurt by it, to see that nastiness coming out of Jack. In 1974… I told him that the Funky Flashman thing had hurt Stan’s feelings… Jack just laughed and said it had all been in fun, but I knew he was lying. And I guess he knew I knew. Nowadays I often call myself ‘Houseroy’, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think it was a low point in Jack’s personal career.” (pg. 68)

I’d like to counter the perception of Funky Flashman as nasty business by reminding everyone that Roy Thomas once wrote “lousy dialogue” on the original art of a Kirby splash page he himself had written, and then had it returned to Kirby so that Kirby saw this. Great for morale, that. Before that, Thomas- a relative novice in the comics field after years of being active in the fan press- had decided to make reference to Kirby’s personal business and past history with DC- events that had taken place prior to Thomas’s entry into the field- by including “all is forgiven- Carmine” in a published story appearing in Not Brand Ecch.

This understandably rubbed Kirby the wrong way, especially coming as it did from someone who had yet to pay his dues in the comics industry but it also speaks volumes about Thomas’s obtuse, entitled mindset. He shows no awareness or consideration about how other people may feel. When Ditko showed up the Marvel offices to deliver a finished story and informed Thomas he’d be in touch about the following one, Thomas remarked “Oh, so there’s going to be a next one??”, alluding to Lee and Ditko’s estrangement of the time (which was none of Thomas’s business).

Sol Brodsky had to admonish Thomas directly after this, telling him not to do things like that, and explaining how it could lead to a freelancer reading more into it. One can imagine the behavior of the insensitive, self-absorbed and relatively journeyman writer Thomas not making the best impression with veterans of the industry. So it’s ironic that Thomas speaks of mean spiritedness when so much of his career is filled with it. Thomas himself displayed regret for once insulting Werner Roth’s art in front of Roth’s sons and, decades later, wished he could apologize for it- so possibly there’s been a sliver of growth there. But I doubt it. Roy Thomas is an asshole.

“The leak enraged Kirby, and they soon identified a culprit: Vinnie Colletta, perhaps the only man who had access to the work and could have given it to Marvel. The news came as little surprise to Kirby, who had suspected Colletta of being a Marvel spy.” (pg. 71)

While working on Kirby’s Fourth World books, Colletta took original art into the Marvel Offices which Marie Severin photocopied and, to her credit, wrote Kirby a fan letter over. Notable because Kirby’s story in Jimmy Olsen introduces the science-based white skinned vampire Count Dragorin, which would have predated the science-based white skinned vampire Morbius, created by Roy Thomas and noted art thief Gil Kane.

“As much as it might have pained him, he could have used someone like Stan Lee. Without him Kirby seemed adrift.” (pg. 72)

Again, when writers inevitably trash Kirby’s DC titles it would be nice if they’d recognize that this is all subjective. Lee’s dialogue over the New Gods certainly would not have been enjoyed by all.

“To my ear he couldn’t write”, says Steve Englehart, a Marvel writer at the time. “I’ve said for a long time: I wish that DC would republish the Fourth World in English.” (pg. 72)

I’ve said for a long time that I wish Marvel would republish Steve Englehart stories without sexual assault being a regular component of several female characters he’s written. Anyway, I again wonder what the upside is to publicly trash Kirby, which seems to be in vogue- noticeably, among writers and future writer/editors- in interviews. If I were working in an industry and thought a veteran was sucking, I’d most likely keep my opinion to myself rather than be outspoken for the sake of trashing someone who had been mistreated as much as Kirby had.

“To celebrate the victory Goodman gathered up the entire Marvel office and treated them to dinner. And his choice of eatery could not have been more laden with meaning: he took the Marvel staff to Friar Tuck’s, located just across the street, from DC’s offices, then located on Third Avenue at 55th Street and DC staffers’ favorite watering hole.” (pg. 75)

Learning about this event- Goodman celebrating Marvel becoming the industry leader- was glorious. It does work against Lee’s narrative of Goodman as an unsocial, distant and disciplinarian conservative figurehead who barely visited the Marvel offices and showed contempt for comic creators.

“The idea had come from Stan Lee, who’d told his assistant editor Roy Thomas to write a story about a scientist working with experimental chemicals who falls into a swamp and comes out a monster. Thomas later passed on the plot to Gerry Conway, who wrote the first appearance.” (pg. 78)

This credits Stan Lee as having the idea for Man-Thing without noting that Lee had publicly stated more than once that, when coming up for the Hulk, had remembered and “always liked” the name of The Heap. The Heap was a very popular Golden Age swamp creature that lasted over a decade and it’s impossible not to think that that the Heap was directly responsible for Lee’s “idea”.

“Until at least 2006 DC’s official position was that Wonder Woman was a virgin, according to copublisher Dan DiDio.” (pg. 103)

Sigh.

“When we decided to change our name, I came up with Marvel because it was a great word to use,” Stan Lee says. “When they changed theirs, what did they come up with? DC. I think that’s a perfect example of why we outsold them. Whoever was making the decisions there, they were just unimaginative. I’m sorry I’m saying this.” (pg. 105)

It is indeed true that National hired an outside firm to decide the most marketable name for them. Lee had some fun with it in more than one interview, and I can’t blame him.

“After DC failed to offer Kirby a contract renewal he was happy with, the artist returned to Marvel in 1975. Although some staffers weren’t so keen to see him return after his defection.
“There are a couple people there who were telling me, ‘Well, he left. We don’t want him back,” recalls Roy Thomas.” (pg. 109)
‘Stan was able to make it work without him. I think he was pissed off at the world…”- Steve Englehart (pg. 109)
“Kirby’s work polarized readers, and many wrote critical letters printed in the comic’s letters columns.” (pg. 110)

Tucker fails to mention the negative letter writing campaign that was an organized assault at Kirby’s work. To this day, I’m still amazed that toadies who had barely accomplished anything in the comics field would dare to even privately criticize Kirby, who basically provided them with their jobs at that time as well as a host of marketable properties to benefit from. It speaks to the entitled outlook of the fan turned pro that infiltrated the industry throughout the late Sixties and Seventies. Jim Shooter blamed David Anthony Kraft; I’ve heard others say Ralph Macchio was behind the “Jack the Hack” campaign. It was recognized enough at the time that it provoked letters in Kirby’s defense. I wish Tucker had touched upon this in the book.

“The idea for a revival came in the early 1970s from Marvel’s then president, who recognized the importance of overseas licensing and suggested creating a team composed of international heroes. Writer Mike Friedrich, Roy Thomas, and a freelance artist named Dave Cockrum went to lunch to hash out a concept. Thomas pictured the book as a mutant spin on DC’s Blackhawks, a team of soldiers from various countries.” (pg. 111)

Note that Tucker correctly credits Marvel’s Al Landau for the idea of a group of international heroes; Roy Thomas presently downplays that information in his convention signing publicity as he exaggerates his “co-creator” credit in regard to the rebooted X-Men of the Seventies.

“Cockrum had been angling to draw something for Marvel and showed Thomas sketches for a group of characters he had developed for DC in 1972. One was a fanged killer with big hair and sideburns whom Cockrum called Wolverine. A third was called Typhoon and could control weather.” (pg. 111)

Thomas claimed in 1998 that Cockrum “may have” shown him a character called Wolverine but that it “didn’t matter”- I would argue it does matter. While Cockrum’s Wolverine later develops into the character Fang of the Imperial Guard, his distinctive hair lent itself to Wolverine’s unmasked look. Thomas seems less like a co-creator proper and more like an Editorial facilitator. He should stop these somewhat recent and partially false claims.

“One of the main points of contention was Marvel’s allowance to let some writers serve as their own editors, a system partially driven by the huge amount of titles the company was releasing. Shooter set out to end the practice. One of the aggrieved was Roy Thomas…” (pg. 112)

It’s notable that both Thomas and Marv Wolfman left Marvel for DC over not being able to retain their Writer/Editor status at Marvel only to also not be a Writer/Editor at DC.

“Even the regular softball games between the two companies became heated, with the casual matches in Central Park taking on an increased significance. Shooter, who played first base, says he suspected that DC might have been bending the rules to get the coveted W. At one game Shooter noticed a particularly athletic and strapping guy on DC’s team whom he didn’t recognize, despite the industry being small at the time.
“What do you do for DC?” Shooter asked the stranger.
“Uh, I do production,” the man said.
“Oh, do you use rubber cement one coat, or how do you work?” the Marvel editor-in-chief inquired. The man paused and said, “Uh, I do production.” (pg. 117)

I’m just delighted Marvel and DC had regular softball games in NYC. This photo shows Paul Levitz I believe and Irene Vartanoff, so the ringer that DC brought remains a mystery for now.

“The ailing industry was about to find its salvation in an unexpected way- not by expanding its focus but by narrowing it.” (pg. 132)

This one line describing the creation and development of the Direct Market summed it up perfectly I believe.

“One night some twenty-five DC and Marvel staffers were out for a friendly dinner together when the check arrived. The DC editors grabbed their wallets and began trying to parse the bill among several credit cards, exasperating the distressed waiter.
“I finally said, ‘Screw it,’ and pulled out my Amex and paid for the whole thing,” says Chris Claremont. “I was showing off. I work for Marvel. I write the X-Men, dude.”
The next day Claremont got an unpleasant phone call from DC honcho Paul Levitz.
“Under no circumstances will DC editors ever allow a Marvel freelancer to pay for their dinner,” Levitz told him. (pg. 172)

I still find the majority of these apparent legendary comic creators hilarious and pretentious in their behavior. Can you imagine DC editors getting heat over this nonsense? I really hope this really happened.

“The bankruptcy also helped, once and for all, to kill the myth that Stan Lee had cultivated for so many years, painting Marvel as a rollicking, carefree place staffed by the wacky bullpenners who did it for the love of superheroes and the pursuit of far-out ideas. In the end Marvel had no special magic. It was just like every other business- all about dollars and cents and vulnerable to the cruel whims of capitlism.” (pg. 189)

“In the end Marvel had no special magic” describes the speculative Nineties so perfectly. At times, Tucker is a very good writer.

“It (Just Imagine Stan Lee Creating…) was a big get for DC and made for some sensational headlines. But it’s up for debate how much the then-seventy-eight-year-old Lee actually contributed beyond his name.
“Was he that involved with them?” asked artist Jerry Ordway who drew Just Imagine Stan Lee’s JLA. “Ehhhh.”
“We had a story conference with me, Stan, editor Mike Carlin, and Michael Uslan. We spent two hours on the phone talking over what was going to happen, and then the phone call is ending and Stan says, ‘You got enough there to work with? You don’t need me to write anything do you?” (pg. 213)

It’d long been speculated that Lee only lent his name and did not actually write anything for the Just Imagine… project. Ordway basically reveals it here, albeit through gritted teeth.

• “DC ran a 2016 Batman epic called “Night of the Monster Men.” Marvel soon announced a 2017 event called “Monsters Unleashed.” The most insane similarities came with the publishers’ 2015 events. That summer both DC and Marvel ran heavily promoted, mega-storylines involving a powerful villain building a single world out of various parts plucked from different dimensions. DC’s, called Convergence, debuted in April, while Marvel’s, Secret Wars, was released in May.

• The similarities were not lost on readers. Tech Times ran an article entitled, “Are Marvel’s ‘Secret Wars’ and DC’s ‘Convergence’ the Exact Same Story?”

• “Yeah, pretty much.” (pg. 246-247)
• “Any publisher can sell #1s and #2s, but can they sell #12s and #18s?” asks Bill Schanes, a former comic book distributor. “That’s when all the gimmicks are over and you should have your core consumers in.” (pg. 250)

Slugfest isn’t a perfect book by any means, but it’s certainly compelling enough to be the sort of entertainment and light history that most comic fans with a basic knowledge of known history can enjoy and possibly learn something else along the way. Tucker doesn’t seem to have any agenda or bias like other writers, and I will again repeat that credit is due for correctly calling out the legendary “golf game” story and Kirby’s Challengers of the Unknown being the prototype for the Fantastic Four. Which is why I wish he didn’t subscribe to the Stan Lee as frustrated novelist narrative. That’s the glaring distraction in this book which otherwise serves its function as a basic history lesson of Marvel and DC’s supposed feud over the years. It’s an era we are increasingly growing further away from.

Thanks to Michael Hill, Robin Synder, Patrick Ford, Reed Tucker, and Jerry Ordway for being covert in telling us what we already knew