Jack Cole was the artist responsible for the 1940s
comic superhero Plastic Man.  In the 1950s Cole drew humorous sketches
for Hugh Hefner’s Playboy.  On August 13, 1958, at the age
of 43, Cole shot himself in the head, and died soon after.

    For artists who kill themselves, it is inevitable
that we see all their creations as the work of someone who committed suicide. 
We look for signs of depression, preoccupation with death, and creativitiy
associated with mania.  We might also look for signs of a troubled
childhood and unhappy adult relationships.  Cole’s work provides plenty
examples of all of the above.

    Plastic Man can stretch his body into any shape. 
He can survive being shot and of course he is able to fight crime and catch
criminals.  Most of the Plastic Man stories were published in Police
Stories.  His early drawing is rather crude compared to the later
work, but it still shows incredible imagination and manages to include 
powerful images.  Of course, this was never meant to be high art:
the comics sold for 10¢ each.  But the writing and art often
combine to make memorable stories.  The villain “Sadly-Sadly” will
stay with me for a long time, I suspect: he has such an unhappy face that
people are overcome with pity when they see him, and they give him all
their money and possessions.  He exaggerates his appearance of sadness
to enhance the effect.  This story typifies a skepticism that some
have for depression: they think that it is an act, and sad people are just
looking sad in order to win pity and sympathy.  Depressed people can
even accuse themselves of just putting on an act, and do feel that they
deserve any sympathy.

    The idea of a person who can change shape at will
was not entirely new: indeed, ancient myths feature gods who have such
powers, mainly used for self-disguise.  Plastic Man has a stretchy
body, but he cannot change color.  He prefigures Mr Fantastic of Marvel
Comics’ Fantastic Four.  It’s a pretty humorous superpower, and Cole
often plays it for comic effect.  The increasing sophistication of
the drawing in Cole’s work is matched by an apparently increasing serious
side; his 1947 cover for a True Crime issue of a murder is quite
gruesome.  The notorious story, “Murder, Morphine and Me!”, which
may have contributed to the perceived need for the creation of a Comics Code because of the intensity
of the drawing and its violent imagery, lacks any sign of the humor of
Plastic Man.  What it does have is a gritty portrayal of evil and
drug addiction.

   The stories don’t have the narrative sophistication and
psychological depth that marked many Marvel comics in the 1970s, but all
of Cole’s work reproduced here is nighy imaginative.  The essay on
Cole by Art Spiegelman that accomanies the art was originally published
in the New Yorker, and is very helpful and well-written.  Four
Cole stories are reprinted in full in this book; with browning of
the pages, and even the paper has a coarse feel to it, though it is
much higher quality than you get in comics; the ink will not come
off on your fingers.  It is easy to see why Art Spiegelman so admires
the work of Cole: there’s a frenzied intensity and weirdness to his drawing
that suggests that Cole was a great innovator in comic book art, and than
makes his work more interesting than most comic book artwork done today.

    Spiegelman, Kidd, and Chronicle Books have done a
wonderful job in putting this book together:  it has a plastic cover,
four Jack Cole stories fully reprinted, and numerous pages from other works
printed in full color.  The book is a pleasure to read and a pleasure
to handle.

© 2001 Christian Perring. First Serial Rights.

Christian Perring,
Ph.D., is Chair of the Philosophy Department at Dowling College,
Long Island. He is editor of Metapsychology Online Review.
His main research is on philosophical issues in psychiatry.
He is especially interested in exploring how philosophers can
play a greater role in public life. He is available to give talks
on many philosophical or controversial issues in mental health.

Categories: Memoirs, ArtAndPhotography