dangerous dames, cynical reporters and the first graphic novel

There's usually a certain luster that comes with being the first person to create something significant—it’s all glory and accolades and glowing mentions in the footnotes of history. But for some, being first doesn’t get them anything. They’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and their accomplishments are overlooked.

Such is the case with comic creator Arnold Drake. Drake died at the age of 83 in March and left behind him a career that, while famous in comics fandom and serious studies of the art, is still relatively obscure, compared to creators like Jack Kirby and Will Eisner. But Drake, whether knowingly or not, was usually on the cutting edge of things.

In the 1960s and ’70s he pushed for Marvel and DC to recognize the efforts of their writers and artists with better pay and compensation for the characters they created. In the early ’60s, Drake co-created for DC The Doom Patrol, a group of super-powered freaks whose comic debuted almost at the same time as Marvel’s X-Men (the fact that you haven’t seen “Doom Patrol 3: The Last Stand” at local multiplexes shows which super-team survived that showdown). And in 1950, Drake helped co author “It Rhymes with Lust,” one of the first modern graphic novels ever published. This month, Dark Horse Books re-released “Lust” in book format for the first time in more than 50 years.

Writers Drake and Leslie Waller (writing under the pseudonym Drake Waller) and artist Matt Baker collaborated on the project. In his afterward, Drake wrote that he and Waller came up with the idea for a “bridge between comic books and book-books” in 1949, while in college under the GI bill. St. John’s Press, a minor publisher back in the golden age of comics, first published it as a “picture novel,” and it was sold on newsstands alongside comics, magazines and cheap paperbacks.

So what rhymes with lust? That would be Rust Masson, the sultry widow of Buck Masson, the crooked businessman who controlled the businesses and political machine of mining town Copper City. With Buck dead and gone, Rust assumes control of his vast empire, and it isn’t long before she makes a play against Marcus Jeffers, Buck’s former second-in-command and current head of the political machine. Thrown into this volatile mix is Hal Webber, an alcoholic reporter who has a past with Rust. Hal comes to town at Rust’s request, and he’s soon placed in charge of the Copper City Express, a newspaper that’s ostensibly against the Masson machine. But as Hal learns, Rust owns the Express and she’s using the paper to further her own agenda. Hal is still smitten with Rust, but he soon falls for Audrey Masson, Buck’s idealistic young daughter. Audrey wants Hal to expose Rust, Rust wants Hal to smear Jeffers, and all Hal wants is to relive his days as a crusading young reporter.

It’s a simple pulp fiction set-up, but Drake and Waller have fun with the story, particularly with Rust. She’s a cackling, power-hungry villain who manipulates, ingratiates and threatens her way to the head of the pack in Copper City. And even though she’s got an army of hired goons ready to do her bidding, Rust enjoys getting her hands dirty, and, in one scene, puts the hurt on Audrey for questioning her plans.

Even Audrey manages to move beyond the characterization of a typical noir moll. Though she’s all lovey-dovey and devoted to Hal, she’s just as much a manipulator as Rust, using her influence over Hal to topple Rust’s empire.
Hal is easily the weakest of the lead characters, an odd role, considering how firmly entrenched “Lust” is in ’50s pulp conventions. He sways back and forth between loving Audrey and lusting after Rust, often in the span of a few panels. The supporting cast, including Jeffers and Rust’s lecherous hired gun, Monk, seems better fleshed out than Hal.

All that’s forgivable, though, as “Lust” rockets toward its explosive conclusion. There aren’t any surprises here—the bad guys get punished and the good guy gets the girl—but Drake and Waller infuse so much momentum and sheer fun into the story that it’s a satisfying payoff.

As for Baker’s art, well, it’s fantastic. Clean and crisp, with a distinctive style and an acute sense of motion. Even when things are standing still, there’s still a brilliant sense of movement, whether it’s in the background or in the subtle poses of the characters. Baker has a knack for drawing dames as well, a good thing in a book with two solid female leads.

“Lust” has been mostly out of print since the 1950s. It sold well upon publication, but future “picture novels” weren’t as successful, and St. John’s soon ended the line. “Lust” next surfaced in 2006, when it was reprinted in the 30th anniversary issue of The Comics Journal. Meanwhile, Drake continued to be a pioneer in the comics field, though his efforts focused on more conventional superhero books. During a long stint at DC Comics, Drake created the Doom Patrol, Deadman and Stanley and His Monster and worked on many of the company’s flagship titles. Later, he worked for Marvel, where he had a brief stint on “X-Men” and created the Guardians of the Galaxy. Drake’s contributions were considerable, but when he died earlier this month, few outside the industry took notice. The graphic novel has come a long way since “It Rhymes With Lust.” Hopefully, Dark Horse’s new edition will help cement Drake’s contributions in the minds of current and future graphic fiction fans.