PART I
THE NEW WAVE
CRUCIAL WRITERS, ARTISTS, AND TITLES
In the summer of 1986, writer Mindy Newell was stuck. Her series The New Wave, written with Sean Demming and drawn by Lee Weeks and Ty Templeton, appeared on a biweekly schedule, an experiment for her publisher, Eclipse Comics. Each issue, about half the length of a regular newsstand comic, was priced at fifty cents. By the fifth issue, Demming explained, they had plenty of fan letters, but they still needed a âtext pageâ to fill out the comic: âThe letters are coming in,â he said, âbut the deadline is coming fasterâ (Newell 15).
After describing the things sheâd rather be doing than writing a personal essay for âHigh Tide,â the page that would become the letter column for the series, Newell asks her readers, âWould you like to know where I am going with The New Wave?â Having recently quit a full-time job to become a freelance writer, she admits, sheâs both elated and a little nervous: What will come next? âOh, I have plots aplenty in my head,â she writes, but where they will take her and her characters, for now, âis a mystery,â one that leads to anxiety and to self-doubt. âAnd so perhaps I am not as good a writer as I should be, or could be, or can be,â she confesses, after revealing her inspirations, including Star Wars, Dune, and 1960s-era Ford Mustangs. She then offers insight into her craft. The writing process is âsomething strange (sometimes wonderful, sometimes horrible),â especially âwhen a continuing series is attempted.â Just before concluding the essay, she anticipates Colleen Doranâs reflections in the afterword to A Distant Soil: Immigrant Song, published by Starblaze just a year later: âI cannot even promise a steady course, or a smooth one. For I am still learning these watersâ (Newell).
In this first section, our writers will explore a few of the creators who, like Newell, got their start in these promising but often uncertain waters. In her essay on Wendy and Richard Piniâs Elfquest, Isabelle Licari-Guillaume builds on previous work sheâs done on the series to emphasize the tremendous role that the Pinis played in the direct market of the period and to explore the impact they continue to have on artists and readers today. Maaheen Ahmed argues, in her study of Neil the Horse, that, much like the Pinis, writer and artist Katherine Collins and her collaborators drew on other popular formsâin Neilâs case, vaudeville and musical theaterâto challenge heteronormative conventions that continue to limit the mediumâs full potential. In Doug Moenchâs work, Andrew Kunka finds a writer pushing against the limits placed upon him by publishers like Marvel and DC. To do so, Moench sought greater freedom with Eclipse, which published his ambitious but still incomplete time travel series Aztec Ace. In her analysis of P. Craig Russellâs comics adaptations of Oscar Wilde and Maurice Maeterlinck, Shiamin Kwa draws comparisons between the anxieties that brought to a close both the nineteenth and the twentieth centuriesâanxieties that, as she reminds us, are still with us today.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Newell, Mindy. âHigh Tide.â The New Wave #5, 19 Aug. 1986, Eclipse Comics, p. 15.
DELAYED RECOGNITION
Wendy and Richard Piniâs Elfquest
ISABELLE LICARI-GUILLAUME
Elfquest, Wendy and Richard Piniâs influential fantasy series, reached its conclusion on February 20, 2018, after exactly forty years of publication. While its importance in the development of the U.S. comics industry is frequently mentioned in passing by cultural historians (Weiner 26; Gabilliet, Des Comics 125), it has seldom been the object of more in-depth analysis. In fact, Elfquestâs minor role in comics scholarship echoes the reception of the series at the time of its publication.
Because the Pinisâ work did not conform to the unspoken standards of independent comics, it may have seemed incomprehensible to some gatekeepers, leading to its marginalization in the dominant narrative of comics history. The fantasy world of Elfquest was straightforward, not ironic and parodic like the one in Dave Simâs Cerebus; it was character driven and explored human relationships but, unlike Love and Rockets, it foregrounded generic conventions1 and remained child-friendly; it problematized violence, but not within a Frank Milleresque, grim and gritty framework of masculine antiheroes; and, unlike the comics of the so-called British Invasion, it was wholly uninterested in playing the game of cultural legitimation.
However, in recent years, aided perhaps by the Pinisâ donation of their archive to Columbia University (2013), more research has begun to shed light on the importance of the series, both as an artistic achievement and as a pivotal text in the history of 1980s independent comics (Kaipanen; Saunders; Guillaume). In retrospect, it has become clear that the Pinis were ahead of the curve in their ability to recognize the tastes of new readerships. Many of Elfquestâs innovations, in terms of format, art style, and themes, have in fact become staples of the contemporary market. And although the series was not attuned to the implicit demands of the comics scene at the time, it has anticipated some of the broader trends of late twentieth- and early twenty-first-century popular culture, such as the advent of manga, the increasing mainstream popularity of the fantasy genre, and the growing visibility of female audiences in the field.
Pioneer, Best Seller, Maverick: Elfquestâs Art and Publication History
The Pinis self-published the initial series (usually dubbed âThe Original Questâ) between 1978 and 1984 and sold it through the direct market under the guidance of distributors Bud Plant and Phil Seuling. With its black-and-white graphics, its one-dollar price tag, its magazine size, and a deliberate four-month gap between successive issues, Elfquest fit no existing publication model. Its format and price were similar to those of other magazines, but its page count, at thirty-two, was closer to the traditional monthly comic book.2 Unsurprisingly, the title that it resembled most was Mike Friedrichâs Star*Reach, which the Pinis had used as a model for their publishing venture.
Under this triannual schedule, Wendy Pini was able to pencil, ink, and letter each page of the story herself, developing a graphic style that combined many different influences yet was unmistakably her own. Her character...