There were never any early Silver Age comics around when I was at my peak comics obsession, in the late 80s and 90s. There was never going to be a lot anyway, because I was geographically trapped on the arse end of the world, but when I first started seriously collecting, the oldest American comic book I had for a long time was a Jim Shooter/George Perez Avengers from 1977.
Even though, at that time, it was only a couple of decades since the Silver Age comics had been published - the gap between now and the launch of Image comics is significantly longer now - there weren't any Tales of Suspense or Mort Weisinger Superman comics to be found anywhere. The very, very few that I did spot in shops were slabbed on the wall, and fetching ridiculous prices.
But then, in the past decade, that's definitely changed, and it's been relatively easy to pick up multiple Lee/Kirby Fantastic Fours, mind-blowing Journey Into Mystery comics and Jimmy Olsen sci-fi shenanigans from the 1950s. There have been tonnes of bronze age, a fair amount of silver age, and even golden age suddenly available to me. It's been magnificent.
This could be because everyone went a bit Marie Kondo, and ditched everything, but I also genuinely think it's because the first wave of serious fanboys, who collected and hoarded all this shit for decades, are dying off.
All these exquisite collections, locked away in pristine condition by readers who bought the comics as kids in the 1960s. They're not kids anymore, and the Grim Reaper is calling, and their poor next of kin are lumbered with the task of getting rid of these things, and they go out into the world.
It does feel a bit morbid to get excited about this thought, and certainly more than a little selfish, but hell, these elder nerds could always be buried with them. I honestly wouldn't judge them for that, it was good enough for the fuckin' pharaohs.
All these exquisite collections, locked away in pristine condition by readers who bought the comics as kids in the 1960s. They're not kids anymore, and the Grim Reaper is calling, and their poor next of kin are lumbered with the task of getting rid of these things, and they go out into the world.
It does feel a bit morbid to get excited about this thought, and certainly more than a little selfish, but hell, these elder nerds could always be buried with them. I honestly wouldn't judge them for that, it was good enough for the fuckin' pharaohs.
It's the cycle of life, and I don't really think too hard about where my Invisibles are going when I merge with the infinite. But the comics live on, even if we don't, and can still inspire joy love after we're gone.
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