From the 1970s to the Present Day

by Tim Pilcher

  A Pearson-drawn Verotik subscription card.

  THE COMIC BOOK LEGAL DEFENSE FUND

  The rise of erotic comics in specialist comic stores caused many local law enforcement agencies and states across America to become wary of this seemingly new and threatening genre. One victim of this mistrust was Michael Correa, the manager of Chicago’s Friendly Frank’s comics shop. In 1986 Correa was convicted of possession and sale of obscene materials for selling Kitchen Sink Press’ Bizarre Sex, Omaha the Cat Dancer, and other titles. As the publisher, Denis Kitchen felt responsible to fight the verdict. He organized a fund raiser, which saw over $20,000 put toward hiring First Amendment litigator Burton Joseph. Ultimately Correa was acquitted, and Kitchen used the remaining money to set up a permanent nonprofit group to help defend against similar injustices. He established the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund (CBLDF) in 1986 and served as its president for its first 18 years, establishing the Fund as an organization “dedicated to the preservation of First Amendment (freedom of speech) rights for members of the comics community.”

  But with limited resources the CBLDF has also experienced failures in the past. In 1994, Boiled Angel, a self-published comic that deliberately tested the boundaries of acceptability with gruesome depictions of child abuse and cannibalism, was declared obscene by a Florida jury. The underground comics creator Mike Diana was put on a three-year probation, ordered to avoid all contact with children under 18, undergo psychological testing, enroll in a journalistic ethics course, pay a $3,000 fine, and perform 1,248 hours of community service. Even more unbelievably, he was forbidden to draw comics, with his residence subject to random inspections to make sure he didn’t create any further comics. The CBLDF petitioned for a U.S. Supreme Court hearing, but was turned down. In 1995 the CBLDF also helped an Oklahoma shop, Planet Comics, through a two-year long battle involving Glenn Danzig’s Verotika comics, but the owners, under intense financial and emotional strain, decided to plead guilty to felony charges of trafficking in obscenity.

  But things haven’t all been bleak. In 2004 the CBLDF successfully fought the actions of U.S. Customs in South Carolina, which seized issues of the Slovenian anthology Stripburger on the somewhat dubious grounds of copyright infringement. Specifically, one story, Moj Stub by Bojan Redzic, featured Peanuts characters. Another, Richie Bush, was a satirical anti-President attack which Peter Kuper created in the form of a Richie Rich parody. Despite the climb-down, it was clear to see there was a political motivation behind the seizure.

  Sin City creator, Frank Miller, drew this powerful and disturbing statement on censorship, which was created especially for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and was turned into a T-shirt.

  Artist Howard Cruse’s 1995 drawing, An Idea Imprisoned (aka Image Behind Bars), was based on one of cartoonist Mike Diana’s originals from his illegal Boiled Angel comic. It was done in protest to Diana’s persecution and subsequently successful prosecution by Florida authorities in 1994.

  In 2002, Charles Brownstein, a former comics journalist and events director of the San Diego Comic-Con, became Executive Director of the CBLDF. Two years later Chris Staros, publisher of Top Shelf, took over the presidency of the CBLDF from Denis Kitchen. Staros’ passion for comics and freedom of expression equaled his predecessor and led him to publish one of the most important erotic comics to emerge in the last 10 years, Lost Girls, by Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbie. That same year saw the start of the CBLDF’s longest running case. On Halloween, 2004, a Georgia comic shop owner, Gordon Lee, gave out copies of Alternative Comics Sampler as part of the nationwide Free Comic Book Day. Unfortunately it got into the hands of a 6-year-old whose parents complained to the police. Ironically it wasn’t even an erotic comic that caused Lee all the problems, but rather a preview of the intelligent, sophisticated graphic novel The Salon, by Nick Bertozzi, about the birth of Cubism in Paris. The “offensive” image was a scene of Picasso painting naked in his studio.

  After three years of legal wrangling the CBLDF finally got to court in 2007, where the prosecution dramatically revealed that Lee had a previous conviction for selling a copy of a Debbie Does Dallas comic (published by Aircel between 1991-1992) to an adult. As it is illegal to mention previous convictions, the judge declared a mistrial. Despite initial threats to the contrary from the district attorney, the case was finally dropped altogether in April, 2008. As CBLDF founder Denis Kitchen pointed out, “Fortunately cases like Gordon Lee are still an aberration and not the norm…My concern is that every case like this one makes some retailers more nervous, particularly those in the Bible Belt, and thus even more cautious about carrying ‘borderline’ material. It’s much easier for a retailer to quietly take preventive steps to avoid being ‘the next Gordon Lee’ than to be brave and carry the full variety of material you ideally want your customers to be able to choose from.”

  Over the years the CBLDF has raised thousands of dollars to defend creators and retailers from prosecution by selling exclusive editions of books, prints, and t-shirts, and has been supported by practically every major comic creator from Frank Miller and Neil Gaiman on down. Gaiman currently sits on the advisory board alongside scriptwriter Peter David, DC Comics’ publisher and president, Paul Levitz, and owner of Diamond Comics Distribution, Steve Geppi.

  Although Denis Kitchen has retired from the board himself, he remains passionate in his belief that comics deserve the same constitutional rights as adult literature, gallery art, and films. At the 2005 Eisner Awards (comics’ Oscars) Kitchen made a passionate speech, paraphrasing Benjamin Franklin, warning, “If we don’t hang together to support the Fund, surely we will hang separately.”

  The pages from Nick Bertozzi’s The Salon, that saw comic storeowner Gordon Lee face prosecution from the Atlanta District Attorney. The case was eventually thrown out of court in April 2008, after three and a half years of legal wrangles and fees of over $100,000, which were covered by the CBLDF. “And we are so fucking relieved,” bestselling author and comic writer, Neil Gaiman told a crowd at the New York Comic Convention that year.

  THE MAINSTREAM MOVES IN: ENIGMA AND THE EXTREMIST

  As more adult themes began to emerge in the independent publishers’ comics, the mainstream “big two” superhero publishers, Marvel and DC, started to take notice, realizing there was an older comic readership that they weren’t catering to. In 1993, DC editor Karen Berger established a new imprint under the Vertigo banner with a whole range of horror, fantasy, and quirky fiction titles aimed specifically at “mature readers.”

  One of Vertigo’s earliest titles to be released was Enigma, written by Peter Milligan and drawn by Duncan Fegredo. Initially, the tale appeared to be an above-average story of superhero hijinx, but halfway through it took unexpected twist, examining the awakening homosexuality of the central protagonist, Michael Smith. This controversial storyline had not previously been examined in such explicit detail in a superhero comic. Admittedly, there had been ham-fisted attempts at introducing gay superheroes in the past — most notably Northstar in Marvel’s Alpha Flight — but this was a more mature, sensitive, and explicit approach.

  Milligan followed up Enigma with a more in-depth look at the varied aspects of sexuality with The Extremist. As the erotic thriller’s villain Patrick points out: “there isn’t one sex, or even two sexes, but a whole multitude…”

  The story of the eponymous protagonist lurks in the erotic underworld of San Francisco’s bathhouses, BDSM fetish clubs, and a secret sexual society, known as The Order. The Extremist acts as an enforcer/assassin, eliminating anyone who steps out of line or threatens to expose The Order. The series hops back and forth through time focusing on three people, Judy and Jack Tanner, and their neighbor Tony, and how The Extremist affects their lives.

  When looked back at, it is clear that Milligan didn’t have much firsthand experience of these “scenes,” but the writer does expertly explore the lure of taboos and why people are drawn to their darker halves, and the secrets that are kept
from themselves and others. There are serious ethical questions posed, in the same vein that De Sade and Crowley challenged society’s mores. The Extremist remains Milligan’s favorite series for Vertigo “because there is more work to be done on it.”

  Both these titles dealt with taboo subjects for a mainstream publisher, but were applauded for their handling of these subjects.

  A panel drawn by John McCrea and Andrew Chiu from Cruel and Unusual #2. The four issue miniseries, written by Jamie Delano and Tom Peyer, dealt with exploitation TV, the electric chair, and the depravity of modern media.

  Ted McKeveer’s painting for the cover of his and writer Peter Milligan’s The Extremist #4 (1993).

  The first page of Enigma #7, drawn by Duncan Fegredo, when central protagonist Michael Smith has just had sex with superhero The Enigma. The series was one of the first mainstream comics to celebrate gay relationships in a healthy, positive—if convoluted—light.

  The Extremist, Judy Tanner, in the foreground, is offered her ultimate fantasy in a Faustian bargain that threatens her soul and morality, in issue #1 (1993), drawn by Ted McKeever.

  Dave Taylor’s highly charged eroticism from Randy and Jean-Marc Lofficier’s sex-based sci-fi series, Tongue*Lash: The Hidden Place, which was published by Dark Horse in 1999.

  THE MAINSTREAM EXPANDS: AMERICAN VIRGIN, PREACHER, AND THE PRO

  Vertigo carried on its sexually themed titles with the 2006 American Virgin series, written by Steven T. Seagle and illustrated by Becky Cloonan. Seagle picked up on the US rise of teenagers pledging not to have sex before marriage, via the “Silver Ring Thing” set up in 1995, and explored its ramifications. The story follows Adam Chamberlain, a twentysomething born-again Christian preacher who struggles with his sexuality and faith. Chastely engaged to Cassie, the virgin Adam is forced to confront everything he believed in when his fiancée is seeming killed by terrorists in Africa. The young preacher goes to the “dark continent” and is plagued by erotic visions of Cassie and finally succumbs to his own carnal desires.

  Referring to Vertigo’s previous successes, Seagle confidently predicted that, “American Virgin will do for global sexual myth, history, and practice what Preacher did for gross-out action and Hellblazer did for demonology.” The writer deliberately chose story arc names with sexual connotations such as Head, Going Down, Wet, and Sixty-Nine.

  Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon’s seminal series Preacher featured every kind of sexual predilection known to society, from mild bondage and cross-dressing through chicken fucking to fisting, yet did it all implicitly, rather than explicitly, and with heavy doses of humor, thus avoiding too many claims of gratuitousness. Nevertheless it still managed to irk more puritanical members of society.

  But Ennis ramped up the sexual content with his superhero satire, The Pro — this time published by Image — that followed the sexual misadventures of a superpowered streetwalker. Drawn by Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti, the one-shot graphic novel had its tongue planted firmly between two cheeks, as seen when a Superman-like hero ejaculates his sperm forcefully enough to knock a plane from the sky.

  But as the mainstream and certain specialist erotic comic publishers seem to be merging to a center ground, there is increasing diversification into specific fetish comics and sexual niches. Today there’s a whole raft of comics devoted to sections of society Middle America refused to believe even existed 50 years ago — and there are countless contemporary comics catering to the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered communities. As we will see in the next chapter, things certainly have come a long way from the puritanical anti-porn preaching of the mid-1950s.

  The cover to Garth Ennis, Amanda Conner, Jimmy Palmiotti, and Paul Mount’s silly saga of a super-powered prostitute, The Pro.

  A scene from Howard Chaykin and David Tischman’s adult Vertigo series American Century #19. Set in the ‘50s, and drawn by Luke Ross and John Stokes, it evokes an Irving Klaw photo shoot, mixing the bizarre with the mundanity of daily life.

  Pin-up artist Jim Silke’s painting for the cover of American Century #21. Note the classic men’s ‘50s magazines on the newsstand, such as Hush!, Man, and the infamous Bettie Page issue of Eyeful, are all real covers.

  2

  Gay and Lesbian Comix

  HOWARD CRUSE

  In the history of arousing sequential art, the gay erotic comic is a relatively new subgenre, only making its presence felt in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Certainly, there were comics and cartoons with homosexual and lesbian themes — such as the Tijuana Bible featuring James Cagney in a gay orgy — but they were often written disparagingly from the outside looking in. Other, more sympathetic publications, such as the muscle mags of the ‘50s like Physique Pictorial (published by Bob Mizer), were more underground — catering to a then-secret subculture.

  Mainstream society’s tolerance toward homosexuality did not soften until the latter part of the 20th century and the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) comics scene was inextricably linked with the Gay Liberation movement of the late 1960s/early 1970s. This also tied in with the rise of the more sexually liberated underground comics being produced in America and the combination saw the LGBT subgenre of comics blossom.

  The first all-gay-male comic, Gay Heart Throbs #1, was published by Larry Fuller in 1976, and in typical underground comix style #2 wasn’t released for another three years, in 1979. It was two further years before #3, but by then the wheels were in motion.

  One of the earliest, and foremost, gay underground cartoonists was Howard Cruse. Raised in Springville, Alabama, in the 1950s, Cruse was the son of a preacher and his earliest cartoons appeared in The Baptist Student magazine, while he was still in school. He later contributed to Fooey and Sick— two MAD magazine clones, the latter created by Captain America co-creator Joe Simon.

  Cruse’s cartooning first attracted national attention in the 1970s, when he contributed to various underground comix, including Denis Kitchen’s Bizarre Sex. His best-known character was the eponymous Barefootz. He starred in a surreal series about a good-natured, well-dressed young man with large bare feet. Although dismissed by many underground fans as overly “cutesy,” a term Cruse abhors, others found it a refreshing change from the more sexually and violently explicit comix of S. Clay Wilson and Spain Rodriguez. In 1969, while tripping out on acid, Cruse witnessed the infamous Stonewall Riot in New York, a milestone in the formation of the Gay Pride movement. The artist recounted the story in his 1982 strip, That Night at the Stonewall.

  A 2005 illustration by Howard Cruse.

  Wendel and his lover, Ollie, in a state of domesticated bliss, from the gay newspaper strip that ran in The advocate.

  Howard Cruse recounts the infamous 1969 gay rights riot in New York in his autobiographical strip, That Night at the Stonewall.

  One of Cruse’s most well known characters, Wendel, relaxes at home.

  In 1977, Cruse moved permanently to New York, where he met Eddie Sedarbaum, who would become his life partner in 1979. That same year Cruse, who had begun injecting gay themes in his underground comix throughout the 1970s without explicitly examining his own sexuality, was asked by Denis Kitchen to set up a new underground anthology. He founded and edited Gay Comix. The title featured work by openly gay and lesbian cartoonists, and was an important landmark title for gay creators. It helped them gain a voice about issues and subjects that related specifically to the LGBT community.

  For much of the 1980s, Cruse created Wendel, an ongoing one- or two-page strip about an idealistic gay man, and his lover Ollie. Serialized in the gay magazine The Advocate, Cruse used the creative freedom of language and nudity to address important issues like AIDS, gay rights demos, gay-bashing, and closeted celebrities with a mixture of indignation and wit. A much-loved series, Wendel was subsequently collected into three volumes. Cruse spent the first half of the ‘90s creating Stuck Rubber Baby, a 210-page graphic novel for DC Comics’ Paradox Press imprint in 1995. The semi-autobiographical stor
y told of Toland Polk, a young white man growing up in the American South in the 1960s, simultaneously dealing with his awakening homosexuality and racial injustice. The multi-award-winning (including an Eisner and a Harvey) book was Cruse’s longest, most serious work, which also included his most detailed and realistic art, using detailed crosshatching and stippling techniques and 12-panel heavy pages.

  “After years spent drawing a comic strip like Wendel, set as it was in the post-Stonewall gay subculture of Gay Pride parades and lesbian Softball, it seemed likely to be a refreshing change of pace to venture back to the complicated social currents that created so much turmoil down in Alabama during my high school and college years,” explained Cruse. “In particular, I never addressed racism directly in wendel because I feared trivializing the many issues that swirled around the central skin-color bugaboo. And of course, there was always that homophobic self-hatred of mine to shine a light on.”

  Today, Cruse remains an incredibly prolific and hugely inspirational figure for the legions of gay comic creators who have emerged since the launch of Gay Comix, many of whom weren’t even born when it was first appeared.

  Howard Cruse’s autobiographical Homoeroticism Blues reveals the creator’s difficulties and frustrations in being pigeonholed as a “gay artist.”

  A scene from Cruse’s award winning, semi-autobiographical 1998 graphic novel, Stuck Rubber Baby.