One tantalizing possibility exists that would make an interesting footnote to Binder’s pulp writing career: he may have been the one who completed the last chapter of Robert E. Howard’s sword-and-planet novel Almuric. The best evidence at present suggests that Howard wrote the novel of Esau Cairn (a man who is mysteriously transported to an alien planet, like Burroughs’s John Carter of Mars) in early 1933, then put it aside to work on something else, leaving the last chapter unfinished, save for some notes. Almuric certainly isn’t first-rate Howard, which may explain why he left it uncompleted. After REH’s suicide, the last chapter of the manuscript was finished by another writer, and the novel was serialized in Weird Tales in 1940. The identity of the person who wrote that last chapter has remained a mystery.
Even a cursory reading of the ending of Almuric reveals that the chapter couldn’t have come from Howard’s typewriter, so different is it in tone and language from the author’s established style. Was it Kline, who offered to revise some of Robert’s unsold stories in a letter to Isaac Howard around this time? Was it Farnsworth Wright, editor of Weird Tales, where the story eventually appeared? Or was it—just perhaps—Otto Binder?
Thus far, no proof has been found by those who have combed over the surviving correspondence of Howard, Kline, Wright, and Binder. The style of that chapter bears certain similarities to that of Binder, who may very well have been Kline’s choice to finish it from Howard’s notes. Both Wright and Kline have been discounted by some, but Binder hasn’t.50
Otto Binder in the office of Amazing Stories in 1938. Courtesy of the Julius Schwartz Collection.
If Otto was the one—and could be counted as a collaborator with Robert E. Howard, as well as agent and colleague—some might think it odd he never talked about it. But he would have considered it a minor bit of work, hardly worthy of comment. He may also have been specifically asked to keep mum. It’s a minor mystery, but an intriguing one. Perhaps someday a heretofore-unknown sheaf of old letters will put this question to rest, one way or the other.
6.
CITIZEN LINK
When examining the trajectory of any writer’s career, one always looks for the moment he reached his maturity, the point when he produced something that clearly resonates with what is recognizable as the author’s individual voice, and expresses his unique worldview. It’s that moment when one can ascertain who the author is as a person, and what he has to say. For Otto Oscar Binder, that moment arrived when he conceived the idea for a science fiction story that remains his signature work in the field: “I, Robot.”
In the fall of 1938, Binder was twenty-seven years old. He had mastered the basics of turning out salable prose for the SF pulp markets. His fascination with science, especially chemistry and astronomy, had given him a basis to speculate in story form on all kinds of future scenarios, but now he was ready to take his knowledge and skills and use them to express his own personal views about humanity itself, and what it is that makes up a worthy member of the human race. Binder chose allegory to make his points, which has ever been the most palatable way to deal with “higher topics” in popular fiction.
To define his concept of humanity, Otto paradoxically created a robot as his protagonist: the first sentient robot, Adam Link.
In the autobiographical sketch that appeared in the issue of Amazing Stories that included this tale, Binder wrote, “A robot speaking in the first person sums up the basic idea of this story. The idea struck me like a bolt of lightning. Who could tell what happened to a robot better than the robot himself, assuming him to be of near human intelligence? Such a robot, in a sense, is actually a form of life rather than just a mechanical man. He would have his personal opinions, prejudices and outlook.
Opening pages of “I, Robot,” Otto Binder’s most famous SF story. Art by Robert Fuqua (Joseph Wirt Tillotson). ™ and © the Estate of Otto Binder.
“The Frankenstein theme rears its head almost automatically with the mention of a robot. I thought it a good spot to reverse that formula and actually use it as a foil for a different sort of robot evolution. I wanted a robot who could see the human point of view, even if he couldn’t quite understand. And one that proved that it was his environment that molded him as much and as thoroughly as it does a human being.”51
In “I, Robot,” Adam Link is the invention of an elderly scientist, Dr. Charles Link, who has toiled for twenty years on his creation. The opening lines of the story (which were either eliminated or altered in the 1965 book) under the heading “My Creation” were, “Much of what has occurred puzzles me. But I think I am beginning to understand now. You call me a monster, but you are wrong. Utterly wrong!”52
The first human being the robot meets is Dr. Link, who explains that Adam is a different kind of robot from any other that had been created before—a robot with an iridium-sponge brain that gives him the ability to think for himself and retain memories. Adam Link can learn, and he does so at an astonishing pace. But far more remarkable than his ability to assimilate and remember information is the revelation that Adam has picked up the innate morality and sensitivity of kindly Dr. Link. He, too, is kind, and keenly perceptive of the feelings of the humans that he encounters.
Then comes tragedy: Dr. Link is killed in a freak laboratory accident. Adam Link is blamed. The story ends with him on the run, through a forest, from a fast-approaching manhunt, reminiscent of the scene in Frankenstein with the monster fleeing from angry villagers carrying torches. Adam is about to flick the switch on his breastplate that will cut his power—the closest he can come to ending his own life—rather than let the slavering mob do him in.
The impact of the story was enhanced not only because it was accorded cover status by editor Ray Palmer, but because the cover and interior illustrations were of exceptional quality. Robert Fuqua, the artist responsible for that cover and interior art on Adam Link, was a pseudonym for the prolific commercial artist Joseph Wirt Tillotson. Between 1938 and 1951, he painted some eighty covers for Amazing Stories alone. His work on the Adam Link feature was among his best. Perhaps this is because Tillotson was a Chicago native who had gone to school with Otto Binder. They had long been friends, and it’s tempting to speculate that it was Binder who helped Tillotson break into the pulp field. Whatever the case, his illustrations complemented Otto’s story splendidly, which wasn’t always the case with the work of other pulp artists of the era.
“I, Robot” created a small sensation when it appeared in the January 1939 edition of Amazing Stories. After meeting with Palmer, Earl wrote to Otto, “‘Adam Link’ is stirring the country. Your style is superb. I saw the letters pouring in! Even cards, stating merely, ‘PLEASE SAVE ADAM LINK!’ Man what a character! He is going to cop first prize [in the readers’ poll]. I am glad you left a loop-hole for a continuation. It isn’t right for a brother to brag so much but I simply must give credit where it is due. I see great things for you, and I will always be your most ardent booster.”53
Several weeks later, Earl added, “Ray still insists that there is an amazing shortage of material. So hop to it and send him all you can. Because of … your widespread popularity, plus your name constantly appearing before the eyes of the public, your acceptance ratio [should increase] a whole lot.”54
Otto immediately set to work foiling Adam’s attempt at suicide. The first sequel, “The Trial of Adam Link,” continues with Adam waking up in jail, and about to go on trial for his creator’s murder. Just before the trial, Binder emphasizes his point that this isn’t a typical robot story. “I remembered Dr. Link’s repeated remarks that I was not just a robot, a metal man. I was life! I was a thinking being, as man-like as any clothed in flesh and blood. He had trained me, brought me up with all the loving kindness, patience and true feeling of a father with his own child.
“And now, with the thought of my creator, came a sadness, an ache within me. I felt as I had that day I discovered him dead, when the sunlight had seemed suddenly faded to me. You who read may smile cynically, but m
y ‘emotions’, I believe, are real and deep. Life is essentially in the mind. I have a mind.”55
Binder’s allegorical meaning is clear: though Adam Link will experience certain difficulties inherent to his metal body, he is, for all intents and purposes, a human being—whose goal is to get more than just his immediate friends (Thomas Link, Dr. Link’s son, and a few others in the course of the stories) to accept him as an equal. Adam wants society as a whole to accept him as equal to Homo sapiens.
“I, Robot” and three of its sequels were featured on the covers of these issues of Amazing Stories. January 1939. ™ & © respective copyright holders.
Amazing Stories. February 1940. ™ & © respective copyright holders.
Amazing Stories. December 1940. ™ & © respective copyright holders.
Amazing Stories. April 1942. ™ & © respective copyright holders.
Others have already pointed out the obvious parallel of Adam’s situation to the dilemma of African Americans (and other racial minorities) in America in 1938. From this comes the conclusion that Binder was of a liberal bent. He not only opposed racism, he also believed it was incumbent on the white majority to recognize the basic equality of all men. Other evidence of his leftist political leanings can be found in subsequent chapters in the Adam Link series.
In the sequel “Adam Link in Business,” in the January 1940 issue of Amazing Stories, Binder answered the question, “How is Adam Link going to earn his living?” Adam, with the help of reporter Jack Hall, decides to become a consultant who will use his extraordinary analytical abilities to help scientists, businessmen, and others solve particularly thorny problems. “My purpose is not to do the best for myself, but to do my best for others,” Adam writes.56 He realizes that service to mankind is one way to give his life meaning. Now that he’s earning large sums of money, Adam pours much of his new wealth into a slum-clearance project.
We meet Kay Temple, a young woman who seems to embody all the qualities that the author appreciated in the opposite sex: sweetness, loyalty, sincerity, and romanticism. Kay’s romanticism allows her to envision the “real Adam,” which completes his sense of humanity. “‘I don’t see you as a robot any more, Adam,’ she exclaimed. ‘I see you as a man. You have character, personality, just like anyone else. You are like a man who is big and strong—and warmhearted. You have kindly eyes, sympathetic lips, and a strong chin.’ She was looking at me with half-closed eyes. ‘You have a grave, boyish face, a shock of unruly hair, seldom combed. Your hands are big, thick-fingered, but so very gentle. And when you smile—you often do, I know—it is like a warm sun breaking through clouds.’”57
Soon Kay is in love with Adam Link, and he with her—which he finds so unsettling that he flees to a secret getaway in the Ozark Mountains. It’s too bad, because a love affair between robot and flesh-and-blood woman would have offered interesting story potential, but such was not in the character of Binder’s protagonist. Adam would not allow that kind of relationship to occur, because he knew Jack Hall was in love with Kay, and because he wanted Kay to have the complete relationship that he could not offer. Again a downbeat ending, with Adam feeling doomed to loneliness.
The next chapter is “Adam Link’s Vengeance,” perhaps the best of the sequels. It’s the equivalent of Bride of Frankenstein, the film wherein the creature is given a mate. In the Ozarks, Adam meets scientist Dr. Paul Hillory, and takes him up on his offer to construct a robot companion. It will be a female, and is to be named Eve. Kay Temple agrees to provide Eve’s ‘upbringing,’ in order to give her the female perspective. In the process, Eve takes on much of Kay’s personality, certainly a bonus from the metal man’s point of view.
All proceeds smoothly, and it seems that Adam’s dream is about to come true, when Hillory reveals his hidden plan to use them as instruments of his will. By attaching a device to the back of each of their heads, he can force them to do his bidding. To Adam’s (and Eve’s) horror, Hillory compels Eve to rob a bank, and kill an enemy, in a nearby town. In the end, it’s Kay Temple who saves the day.
The next six sequels, in order of appearance, were: “Adam Link, Robot Detective,” “Adam Link, Champion Athlete,” “Adam Link Fights a War,” “Adam Link in the Past,” “Adam Link Faces a Revolt,” and “Adam Link Saves the World.”
The Adam Link series established Otto Binder’s place as a giant in the science fiction firmament. When the story “Adam Link in the Past” appeared in the February 1941 issue, Palmer heralded it as “the best adventure of the most popular character of all time.”58 Aside from the editorial hyperbole, it’s clear that the series had attained tremendous popularity.
One shouldn’t extrapolate too much about an author from his work, but the allegorical nature of “Adam Link” seems to reveal many of Otto Binder’s values. He is shown as a man who was tolerant, liberal, idealistic, responsible, and generous. He was also a man who wasn’t too complicated, who desperately wanted to take care of those he loved, and whose most basic impulses were for the preservation of family, community, and country. While he loved to write stories of interplanetary adventure, Otto’s greatest bliss would come upon returning to family and home when the writing was done for the day.
When he began the Adam Link series, Otto Binder was a single man just short of thirty. When he completed it in early 1942, he was thirty-three, and had been married for almost two years. Just as he reached his maturity as a writer, he took on the responsibilities of a family man.
This new phase of his life was to be expected. But the turn that his writing career had taken in the months before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor was a complete surprise. At the height of his fame in the pulps, he abandoned them to write exclusively for comic books, where he would find his greatest success, both financial and creative.
The first comic book script written by Otto Binder was for “mighty Dan Hastings,” possibly this episode, which appeared in Scoop Comics #1 (November 1941), drawn by George Tuska. Courtesy of Jim Vadeboncoeur, Jr. ™ & © respective copyright holders.
7.
SEDUCED INTO COMICS
“My brother Jack had moved to New York and eventually joined the Harry ‘A’ Chesler shop as art director,” Otto Binder related in The Steranko History of Comics. “It was then I was seduced into the comics.”59
Actually, this was not strictly true. Binder’s first comics scripts were for Chesler, but it was more like a flirtation than out-and-out seduction. He wrote five scripts between October and December 1939, for which he was paid a mere five dollars each. Though the rates paid by the pulps were hardly lavish, Binder could make more money for his time sticking to his present field.
His first comic book script was for a science fiction character named Dan Hastings, begun by Chesler himself in Star Comics in 1937. Later episodes of the feature appeared in Amazing Mystery Funnies (Centaur) and Blue Ribbon Comics (MLJ) in 1939, then continued in Scoop Comics #1 through 3, two years later. Binder’s Hastings script, if written in October 1939, could not have appeared in that same year, given the lag time for the strip to be drawn and published. Therefore, the best guess is that Otto’s first script appeared in one of the first three issues of Scoop, after sitting on the shelf for a while.
Otto’s next two scripts were for a feature called “Scott Rand in the Worlds of Time.” This character appeared in the first three issues of Top-Notch Comics from MLJ (who would soon introduce a teenager named Archie Andrews to the world). He also wrote a pair of stories starring Iron Munro, the Astounding Man, for Street & Smith’s The Shadow Comics, which didn’t appear until the summer of 1941.
All three characters—Dan Hastings, Scott Rand, and Iron Munro—barely qualify as footnotes in the history of comics. Like the dozens of other adventurers in this era, they were created to fill the back pages, supporting more promising material. Their relative insignificance was probably the reason Binder was given the assignments, new to the field as he was.
But it was more than just the low pay that en
ded this first flirtation with comics. “I didn’t do any comics writing in 1940,” he remembered in a later interview. “The comics I saw looked shoddy, and I didn’t think they would last.”60 There was simply nothing to attract a successful SF writer to them. Otto ignored Jack’s entreaties for the next year.
Although he managed to get back to Chicago to visit his family and friends fairly often, it seems in 1940 Otto Binder was there almost as much as he was in New York. Perhaps this was something of a “huddling together” impulse, with the outbreak of war in Europe, and the seeming inevitability that the United States would declare war against the Axis powers. Undoubtedly the Binders had relatives still living in what was now Nazi Germany. All sorts of now-forgotten dramas were being played out in the lives of German immigrants at this time.
While in Chicago, OOB always made a point to see his friends and colleagues from his SFL days. Not long before his marriage, he was staying with Ray Palmer, managing editor of Amazing Stories. They even made an out-of-town jaunt. “Eando Binder drove up to Milwaukee with us, some months ago,” Palmer wrote in the editorial of AS from December 1940, “to a meeting of the Fictioneers, a group of writers who convene every two weeks.” It was during this trip that Palmer suggested a story wherein Adam Link becomes a time traveler into the past on a search for Thor, god of thunder.
Otto Binder: The Life and Work of a Comic Book and Science Fiction Visionary Page 7