Why the Marvel Comics boss will be missed
Stan Lee called himself “The Man”. He had a signature way of referring to all his collaborators. They were always Jack “King” Kirby or “Simmerin’ Steve Ditko”. It was one of the ways that Marvel Comics back in the ’60s felt so distinct from the “Distinguished Competition” (another Lee-ism).
Where DC’s heroes were largely stoic father figures, Lee championed the idea that the people trying to save our lives might be just like you or me. When he wasn’t swinging overhead, Spider-Man was a grumpy, hormonal teenager who shared his very relatable desires with readers. In one early story Spidey outright considers letting Doctor Doom murder the school bully so Peter could be done with him.
This championing of the face behind the mask may have seen its origin in Lee’s own life. Born on December 28 1922, Stanley Lieber started working at Marvel Comics (then Timely) in his teens. He was an errand boy, the rat that many of the company’s freelance artists wanted desperately to avoid. Maybe because of his eagerness to participate and contribute. To be noticed and regarded, maybe even praised.
Superheroes are built around the mythology of the oppressed. The genre offers up a means that the underdog might find acceptance through exceptional acts of humanity. That they might pass using a name bigger than their “secret identity”.
Stan was the face of that idea. His signature carnival barker persona (later accompanied by signature sunglasses) offered readers a way not just into the Marvel Universe, but the rooms where Universes were made. The Marvel offices described in Lee’s editorial columns were more of a fiction than any superhero. In his “Soapbox” column, readers were treated to the discussions and disagreements between Lee and his team.
In reality Stan ran things from a tiny city office while freelancers like Kirby and Ditko toiled from their own studios elsewhere. The only time they had to see one another was when plots were discussed, or pages delivered. And even that changed.
It’s no secret that Ditko and Kirby didn’t care much for Stan. Both quickly moved on to working without his involvement, leaving The Man to focus on his greatest role. He was an excellent curator of talent and the greatest advocate comics ever had. It’s likely his push into getting comics into the hands of teenagers on college campuses helped save the artform from obscurity.
For decades everybody knew Stan “The Man” Lee as the creator of the Marvel Universe, with a too-subtle nod to its architects in Kirby, Ditko and others. It’s amusing to think Lee might not have recognised the double entendre in his self-selected nickname until decades on. The man. The boss. The guy artists avoid.
And yet Stan made art.
He made an art of his life and so brought art into all of ours.
His style was of the individual but the stories he helped shepherd always spoke to people’s need for one another.
He had a signature way of signing off too.
‘Nuff said. Excelsior!