Jim Steranko is an interesting guy in person and his twitter account is no less fascinating. In all my convention travels I’ve never seen him not dressed in a turtle neck and a shiny suit.
This evening, someone asked him about his “Bob Kane” story and he really let loose.
Bob Kane is the creator of Batman. Others contributed to the mythos, yes, but Kane is the one whose name gets on everything. While I can’t verify the details of this story, I can verify that Steranko told it on twitter and I have no reason to disbelieve him.
I’d hadn’t encountered Kane in my travels, but at one rockin’ SDCC, an associate asked me if I wanted to meet him, and walked me into a hallway. There he was, in a small group of people, wearing patent-leather shoes–and an ASCOT, like he was Vitamin f******g Flintheart in a Dick Tracy cartoon.
For years, I’d heard how he’d taken credit for Bill Finger’s contributions (in addition to half his pay) and other despicable tales from his associates. But nothing aces an in-person encounter. We were introduced and Kane began talking about my Batman chapter in the HISTORY OF COMICS, which treated him–and everyone else–very respectfully. He felt I credited Robinson & Finger (both of whom I knew intimately) too much. Kane (aka Kahn) was beyond pretentious, an intolerable ass as pompous as they come. I bit my tongue while he regaled us with his many achievements.
The group was waiting for an elevator, which they stepped into when the door opened. Our conversation ended, but not before he said: “See you later, Jim, baby,” and cuffed me across the face–like some rat-pack street gesture he’d seen in some cheap flick. The doors closed…
I was stunned by the sheer audacity of a stranger–like him–to lay a hand on me, and boiling with anger.
That night, I couldn’t sleep and the next morning began combing the halls for his Bat Majesty. Around noon, I found him in another group, which I walked into. “Good to see you, Bob, baby!” I said, then bitch-slapped him across the face.
But this time, there was no elevator door closing between us. I stood there for about 15 seconds, waiting. He did nothing. I turned and left. But I regret it now. I regret that he didn’t do anything about it, even though he was at least a head taller than me. I wouldn’t have minded bleeding at all for one more opportunity to give Kane the kind of Bat Lesson that Finger, Robinson, Sprang and others only dreamed of.
Finger was THE creative force behind Batman. ALL the cool Bat elements are his concepts.
Then he went on to explain the first time he met Jerry Siegel:
One noontime, while the bullpen was out to lunch, I stayed in the Marvel offices to catch up on my phone calls. While I was conversing, I noticed a guy I’d never seen before, emptying ashtrays into wastebaskets. Chunky little guy shuffling from desk to desklike an ancient cleaning lady, central casting for just another face in the crowd, but, a little at a time, I began to realize I knew who he was. Then I wrapped the call, walked over and turned him around.
“You’re Jerry Siegel?”
I’ll never forget how he looked up, eyes slightly rheumy, sad, worn out.
“What the hell are you doing with the ashtrays?”
He said he thought he’d make himself useful while everyone was out of the office and that he’d just started working at Marvel.
Ashtrays? “Jerry, you’re THE MAN! You put comicbook heroes on the map!! All these sons of bitches owe you their jobs, their lives!!!” I made him sit down, got him a drink of icewater. Stan had obviously hired him to shame DC for not taking care of their own. Helluva coup! I did my best to make Jerry at home and lay off the ashtrays. We became tight friends.
Often, when I was on the West Coast, I’d have dinner with the Siegels. He’d dig out evidence from the past that nuked my four-color soul, revealing behind-the-scenes tales of Superman’s creation. Jerry and Joanne–one of the classiest women I’d ever met (and the model for Lois Lane)–made me part of the family. After Jerry died, Joanne confessed that Jerry had told her that if she ever needed help, I’d take care of her. Very touching.
And yes, they also connected me with Joe Shuster, whose health had been declining for the past few decades.
We remained friends–with many visits, letters, & phone calls for decades. Now, they live only in my memories and these words.
How can you not follow a guy like that on twitter?