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WHEN THE REVISED 1971 COMICS CODE AUTHORITY
guidelines gave mainstream comic writers permission to explore
supernatural storylines, they wasted little time to jump at the
chance. The early 1970s saw a mini-explosion of monster-themed
comics, with such titles as Tomb of Dracula, Werewolf
by Night, and Son of Satan hitting the racks. At
their best, the monster mags were guilty pleasures that hosted
superior art and scripts; at their worst, they were painfully
clumsy attempts at horror in a time when the only real horror
was the power of the censors to veto anything remotely
provocative.
But a humble eight-page story in this issue of House of
Mystery would go on to do two things. First, it introduced a
character that would become one of DC's most recognizable
characters of the 1970s and '80s. Second, it would signal the
start of a new era in comics -- one in which horror comics would
come back with a vengeance, blowing away all preconceived
notions of what they were supposed to be.
Along with sister title House of Secrets, House of
Mystery began in the 1950s as an attempt to emulate the
popular EC Comics lineup of horror comics. Pressure from censors
both inside and outside the industry, however, kept the shock
factor to a minimum, and the majority of stories were
consequently rather mild. The format -- each issue showcased a
number of short stories with twists in their endings -- allowed
for a lot of experimentation, but for the most part the stories
followed standard formulas that were rarely altered. A favourite
theme, for example, was a criminal receiving his just desserts
in some ironic way, thanks to the interference of otherworldly
forces.
At first, there was little reason to believe that the main
story in this book, the first to feature the Swamp Thing, would
be any different. Writer Len Wein and artist Berni Wrightson
created a creature who was a man returning from the grave to
seek vengeance against his murderer. It was a dark, brooding
story (made all the more so by Wrightson's gothic style), and at
the time there was no indication that anyone at DC intended to
give it an encore. But the readers' enthusiasm for that one
short story made a regular series all but inevitable, and Swamp
Thing debuted in October, 1972.
Despite the character's roots in the horror genre, elements
of superhero fantasy kept creeping in. In the ongoing series,
for example, it was revealed that the Swamp Thing was once
scientist Alec Holland, whose secret formula to promote plant
growth was destroyed in an explosion set by secret agents who
wanted to cover up his murder. In addition, the formerly lumpy
monster developed a more muscular physique, probably to
distinguish him from the series of misshapen creatures he did
battle with.
Wrightson's unique style graced only ten issues; a few issues
later, Wein dropped out as well. Despite their replacements'
best attempts, the series lost its flavour, and it petered out
after just 24 issues. Still, it was enough to catch Hollywood's
eye, and in 1982 the Swamp Thing movie hit the screens.
The movie spurred DC to revive Swamp Thing in a second series,
which they did with Saga of the Swamp Thing. The series
picked up where its predecessor left off, following Holland as
he searches for his humanity. But after just 19 issues, the
title's lackluster sales weren't encouraging, and, with nothing
to lose, DC gave the book to a young British writer named Alan
Moore to see what he could do with it.
What happened after that is another
story in itself. For now, it's enough to say that, without
Wein and Wrightson's creation, Moore would have had nothing to
revamp, and for that reason alone this book deserves special
mention. Moore's machinations aside, though, the Swamp Thing of
the 1970s was a genuine attempt by a mainstream publisher to
bring the comic-book horror genre away from the hokey
"watch-the-bad-guy-get-it" type of stories that
permeated the genre at the time, and provided a powerful
argument that the mainstream companies were just as eager to
explore new types of stories as the underground publishers were.
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