Stripper's Guide

This week we'll be going Herriman-less. Instead I offer (or rather Hogan's Alley editor Tom Heintjes offers) a free copy of everyone's favorite cartooning magazine. In observance of Free Comic Book Day, Heintjes makes the following offer:

Even in the depths of the Great Recession, the best things in life are
free! Mark your calendars for this Saturday, May 2: Free Comic Book
Day. Send us an e-mail ON THAT DATE with your mailing address, and
we’ll send you a FREE issue of Hogan’s Alley! No obligations, no
strings attached; the only thing it will cost you is several hours as
you enjoy the issue. (This offer is valid for all U.S. residents,
whether you’re a current subscriber or not.) Remember the one condition
—we must receive your e-mail request on Free Comic Book Day (May 2),
not the day before or the day after. (Before and after that date, any
requests for freebies will receive only scorn and derision.) Feel free
to pass this offer along to anyone you know who might enjoy Hogan’s
Alley!

Send your request to hoganmag@gmail.com. Do it today or don't bother!

S. S. McClure, 92, Dies; Father of Syndicates
(E&P, 3/26/49)

Samuel Sidney McClure, 92, who launched the first newspaper syndicate, Nov. 16, 1884, died in New York City, March 21, almost forgotten by the general public that his editorship and inventiveness had once so importantly influenced.

Since writing his "Autobiography" in 1913 he was virtually retired from McClure Syndicate and the once-powerful McClure's Magazine.

He had another fling at publishing, however, in 1916 when he and associates bought the old New York Evening Mail, in later years to be merged with the New York Telegram under the ownership of the late Frank Munsey.

Wiry, alert, bright-eyed and always in a hurry, Mr. McClure is remembered by his associates as a man who could completely absorb himself with a new idea.

"I never get ideas sitting still," he said.

Started with $5 Loan
Mr. McClure began the syndicate on $5 borrowed capital, after the idea was rejected by his employers, Century Co., for the material in St. Nicholas Magazine which he insisted newspapers would pay to reprint. Five months later he owed authors $1,500, had $1,000 coming in from newspapers.

He was joined by John S. Phillips, a friend he had worked with on the Wheelman, Boston publication of a cycle manufacturer. Mr. Phillips was a business man, and Mr. McClure was not inclined to watch money, as he admitted.

The fortunes of the syndicate were at a low ebb when Mr. McClure went over to Columbia College and offered to file clippings at $3.50 a week. Even when he had 40 newspaper clients, he gave stories free to one of them to get proof-press releases for the others.

Mr. McClure was responsible for developing many great authors. Robert Louis Stevenson, then a noted writer, was promoted to new heights, when Mr. McClure received instruction from Joseph Pulitzer of the New York World to get Stevenson for $10,000 a year to write a weekly essay.
The syndicate also printed Stevenson's "Black Arrow" under another title, first story to be illustrated. The illustrations were done by Will H. Low, friend of Stevenson. This brought in the most money of any of the McClure's syndication.

At the turn of the century the McClure Syndicate developed its own printing plant in Baltimore, Md., and was among the first to print color comic sections.

In 1892, S. S. McClure had turned the syndicate over to a brother, T. C. McClure, so that he could devote himself to his proposed magazine. McClure's. He had developed a wide acquaintance with authors and journalists in nine years of syndication, although he had less than $3,000 in the bank.

Recognized Writing Genius
Mr. McClure's almost infallible ability to recognize writing genius made his magazine top rank. He discovered Willa Cather, helped popularize William Dean Howells and Mark Twain, and introduced Kipling, A. Conan Doyle, and many others.

Mr. McClure, ever modest, declined to take credit for his discoveries. "What an editor does is give a writer a chance to be printed," he said. He compared himself to a farmer who does not "make the wheat. What the farmer did was give the wheat a chance to grow."

His life is in accordance with American tradition. He was born in Ireland, came here as a poor boy, worked his way through college in Indiana, married a daughter of one of the professors. To his father-in-law he gave much credit for his training. To Harriet Hurd, the girl he married, he owed much, too. She helped him through early struggles, decided in favor of postage for the syndicate rather than steaks for the family, and translated French and German stories for him. She died in 1929.

Mr. McClure is survived by four children, nine grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren.

Labels: News of Yore

Private Will B. Wright was a rather undistinguished 'me-too' feature, one of dozens of strips and panels about military life that were created during World War II. The panel was a real latecomer, starting on December 18 1944, a scant six months away from the end of the war. No matter, though, because Private Wright was apparently in the same camp as Beetle Bailey would later inhabit -- in the middle of a war he never left his base.

When the end of the war came, creator Joe Certa did his darndest to keep the panel going. Private Wright was mustered out, went home to mama and got a job. What worked for some other military strips didn't keep this strip out of the cancellation crosshairs, though. The latest known appearance of the daily panel was in September 1945.

Certa tried to sell his syndicate, McClure, on the idea of a Sunday page version of the feature. He produced at least six samples (all hand-colored as the example above) but as far as I've been able to determine the idea met with no interest.

Certa went on to uncredited work on the Joe Palooka strip in the 1950s, and did get a byline on the short-lived Straight Arrow strip. He also did a lot of work in the comic book industry.

Labels: Obscurities

Mandrake and Narda Look Like Creators
by Ogden J. Rochelle (E&P, 1/22/49)

Cartoonists often draw heroes (i.e. principal characters) that resemble themselves.

This statement is trite, with varying degrees of accuracy, but it is doubly true in the case of "Mandrake the Magician," drawn for King Features Syndicate by Phil Davis.

Not only can Davis put on silk topper and cloak and pass for Mandrake, but Mrs. Davis can slip into one of the fashionable frocks of Narda, the heroine, and Mandrake fans would see the resemblance.

Mrs. Davis, as a matter of fact, often draws Narda. An artist in her own right, and a fashion illustrator for a St. Louis department store until early in War II, Martha Davis got in the habit of drawing Narda—and sometimes the entire strip — when her husband was working with the Curtiss-Wright Corp., illustrating Air Force manuals.

"Without her help," says Davis, "Mandrake probably would have folded."

Mrs. Davis enjoyed her work on the strip so much she stayed on after the War. Now the couple produce it as a joint effort, but Phil usually does Mandrake and Martha usually does Narda. They work in a studio in downtown St. Louis, move out into the Ozarks in the Summer.

The strip was hatched when Lee Falk, a St. Louis advertising agency executive, asked Davis to draw a dozen panels on a speculative basis. Davis agreed and in 1934 Falk took the idea to New York and sold it. Falk has continued to supply the continuity. Artist and continuity writer are no longer geographically close. Falk, now a New Yorker, spends his summers in Massachusetts, where he is co-owner of Cambridge Summer Theater.

Mandrake is another strip with double-appeal—to the men for adventure action, and to the women because of the accurate modishness of Narda's wardrobe.

Davis denies any resemblance, especially Mandrake's lust for strenuous exercise.

"When I get the desire to exercise," he says, "I just lie down for awhile until it passes."

Labels: News of Yore

Here's one that came and went pretty quick. C.H. Wellington, who was a one-man cartooning factory back in those days, did For He's a Jolly Good Fellow for Hearst's New York Evening Journal from May 31 to June 18 1910.

It's a bit surprising (to me anyway) that this is the only continuing comic strip ever to bear this exact title -- seemingly a natural since everyone knows the traditional song, and it's a perfect name for a strip about a good-time Charlie, a harried husband, or an overly accommodating nebbish (as in Wellington's strip). There is one other strip that uses a variation on the title, but I'll keep that one under my hat for another day.

Labels: Obscurities

After over a quarter century of service on the Buck Rogers strip, the stormy relationship between artist Rick Yager and syndicate chief Robert Dille exploded in 1958. When the smoke cleared Yager was off the strip and Dille was happy to see him go. Yager vowed to create a rival sci-fi strip that would zap Buck Rogers off the comics page.

But Yager's dreams of revenge went unfulfilled. His next comic strip, syndicated by the Chicago Sun-Times Field Enterprises syndicate, was about a bespectacled little boy named Orvy and his daydreams. While Orvy did indeed occasionally fantasize about the future, most of his daydreams were of a more prosaic variety. The strip was firmly in the comedy vein and actually succeeded at that rather well. Considering that Yager's previous comic strip experience was with the always earnest and serious Buck Rogers, whose only comedy was unintentional, Little Orvy was quite surprisingly good. Little Orvy was a Sunday only strip, and each of his fantasies usually played out over the space of 2-4 pages. To my eyes, Orvy's humor owed something to the hip, inventive stuff that was on display in the pages of Mad magazine.

What might have held the strip back from success was the fussiness of Yager's art. The breezy writing was confounded by an art style that looked like it would better match a serious strip. Since Orvy often fantasized about historical subjects, I can imagine that kids might have thought the strip was supposed to be educational and avoided it like the plague, not realizing that under that facade lurked a pretty funny strip.

Little Orvy ran from January 3 1960 to January 21 1962 in a very short list of papers.

EDIT 9/12/16: Recently I discovered that the strip ran quite awhile longer, to September 30 1962

Labels: Obscurities

Jim Ivey's new book, Graphic Shorthand, is available from Lulu.com for $19.95 plus shipping, or you can order direct from Ivey for $25 postpaid. Jim Ivey teaches the fundamentals of cartooning in his own inimitable style. The book is 128 pages, coil-bound. Send your order to:


Also still available, Jim Ivey's career retrospective Cartoons I Liked, available on Lulu.com or direct from Jim Ivey for $20 postpaid. When ordered from Ivey direct, either book will include an original Ivey sketch.

Labels: Jim Ivey's Sunday Comics