These days, all that’s left are phones and tablets, with a little electronics on top to keep the youngsters entertained. The other day, while perusing the “news” aisle of a large supermarket (don’t worry, I won’t go on yet another tirade about self-service checkouts, as tempting as it is), I noticed a few copies of the most recent Beano comic hiding on the bottom shelf, untouched and unloved. This made me sad.
The unfortunate reality is that, because today’s youth don’t read comics, these are essentially icons from bygone eras and relics of the past. The tech rivalry, as previously said, is one of the main causes of this. Other factors include the quality (they are now like pamphlets), the price (it now costs close to three pounds to read up on Dennis’ most recent adventures, while other comics cost five pounds and more), and the fact that they have become very “PC.”
Formerly known as “Fatty” from the Bash Street Kids, Freddy is an artist. Pea shooters, the slipper, cane, belt, and catapult have all been replaced with burton devices. The creative director of Beano Studios, Mike Stirling, correctly states that “it doesn’t matter if Dave, 58, from Nottingham can’t understand why things cant always stay the way they were” in support of the rebranded Bash Street Kids, who have added new characters to their cast, including Harsha, Mandri, Kharija, Mahira, and Stevie Starr. This makes sense in order to appeal to particular segments of their target market. Spotty is now Scotty.
To their credit, 86 years after its initial publication in 1938, the Beano is still going strong, even if many have given up on it. Dennis, the Benjamin Button of schoolboys, debuted in 1951 and finally gave in to contemporary demands in 2013. The Dandy finally passed away in 2013.
The comic cemetery is replete with former greats. I used to adore getting the weekly “Whizzer and chips” on my doormat, where I could read about the latest exploits of Sid’s snake, which would be too satirical in today’s world to be profitable.
Before we discouraged our children from reading “war” comics, there was an abundance of them. Perhaps this was due to the protracted effects of World War II, as “Battle” ran from 1975 to 1988. Joe Darkie, the leader of the “Darkies mob,” admitted that he had “a screw loose” and enjoyed nothing more than “gunning down the Japs” while they yelled “banzai.” It makes sense that they lost both the war and the battle because nothing I said in the preceding sentence is comparable to the present age.
Cleverly playing on stereotypes of giving it to “fritz,” “bashing the bosh,” and taking on “the hun,” Victor, Warlord, and Commando took up the mantle. They all again mowed down Japanese in the jungle as if they were strimming the front lawn, while the Italians were frequently seen fleeing from battle.
The one real “miss” from many people’s childhood is, without a doubt, “Tiger,” which ran from 1954 until 1985. Following a concept, they created characters who were motor racing, football, speedway, and wrestling athletes. One of Tiger’s bright spots, Grand Prix driver Skid Solo, was mysteriously engaged in a major crash that left him with terrible burns and prevented him from ever driving again. The narrative sounded the death knell for the comic, which during the planning meeting for the comic strip shot itself in the foot and perhaps ought to have pulled a Bobby Ewing and brought him back to salvage the declining sales.
My personal fave, though, wasn’t the Beezer or any of the above, but Roy of the Rovers, who left Tiger for an undisclosed sum to start his own comic book from 1976 to 1993. He played for Melchester Rovers and was your go-to guy when it came to quick fixes. He was arguably the greatest centre forward in England history and didn’t retire until he was in his late 60s. Similar football-themed figures donned ill-fitting clothes since none would suit them, and they hoofed the ball with a venom that would make Roberto Carlos blush. One such character was the strange “Hot shot Hamish,” who was obviously aimed at teenage lads north of the border. For some reason, Hamish kept pet lambs as well, which at the time was a terrible idea (I apologise).
Unfortunately, times change: These days, three pounds doesn’t go very far. Comic books, as we knew them, can now be found in “vintage” bookstores, where you can pay a premium to smell the musty paper, wonder whose name is scribbled in pencil on the front cover’s right corner, and relive some childhood memories. It’s unfortunate, but like vinyl, I think that when technology gets dated in the future, we’ll see artists like Melchester Roy and Desperate Dan return because, let’s face it, the classics are still the greatest.
