Rating: 
Summary: Cole Mine
Review: Jack Cole is better served by this fairly strange book than many other great cartoonists of the golden age of the medium have been in print. Spiegelman's somewhat sparse text is full of useful information and valid critique, but he wisely lets the material speak for itself, and that's the main attraction here, though those words and the book's design seem to have distracted some readers. This is not an anthology of "Plastic Man"- that can be found elsewhere, fortunately- nor is it an in-depth biography of Jack Cole. It's more like a large catalogue for an exhibition, covering all aspects of his varied career. Material seems to be reproduced from original art in a few cases- mainly his Playboy stuff- but the comic book stories are shot from original issues, with four-color separation and page-yellowing quite evident- and speaking as a sometimes-comic artist, that's close to the way I think they should be seen (I HATE modern re-coloring, and especially airbrushes!). And as for the book's unconventional design.....I like it. (Would've preferred a hardcover, though!)
Rating: 
Summary: Great art, insanely ugly book!
Review: Some autobiographical information must preface this review.
In 1948, when I was 8, my family moved a few blocks East, which
put me half a block from a corner drugstore which had two fat
racks of comics, and one fat rack of paperbacks. I already loved
the Donald Duck "illustrated novels" by a genius I later discovered to be Carl Barks.
Now I found two other wonderful
universes, that of Captain Marvel and the Marvel Family, and of
Jack Cole's Plastic Man. (Four years later I discovered EC
comics, but that's a story in itself!) I mention this only
to stress that kids recognize quality when they see it, and
boy, oh, boy, was there quality in the titles I mentioned!
Well, Carl Barks lived to see all his comic work put into print
both in trade paperbacks and hardbacks. The Marvels, acquired
in a hostile takeover by a rival publisher, were buried, and
except for a single large, expensive hardback published 15 years
ago, have not received the preservation they merited.
Now it seems to be Jack Cole's turn. There are two expensive
hardback compilations of Plastic Man stories from DC comics,
still available here at Amazon.com... but this current volume
aims to present ole Plas to a larger audience.
Art Spiegelman used his two "Maus" graphic novels to gain the
attention of the New York literary establishment, and since
then has valiantly tried to interest that same establishment
in some of the classics of comic art. Here he gives us a
brief biography of Jack Cole, and some samples of his Plastic
Man, crime, PLAYBOY and syndicated newspaper comic strip work.
Unfortunately, the book's design, attributed to one "Chip Kidd",
is eye-blastingly hideous and chaotic. What's more the text
is made nearly illegible (and sometimes unfindable) by
being printed in various official Plastic Man colors
(white on black, ok, yellow on black, ok, black on yellow,
acceptable, yellow on dark red risky, black on dark red
nearly unreadable!). Even the reproduction of the Plastic Man strips
is poor; the faded, yellowed comics pages have been photographed
directly, and although digital restoration is credited, no detectable effort
has been made to bring out the text and art.
Although Jack Cole was justifiably famous for the organic unity
of his mind-bending layouts, the present book usually looks like a
random collage made by an untalented 6-year-old child. In
fact, the last eleven pages of the book are quite literally
collages, and woefully inept collages at that.
Why should we care about Jack Cole? He succeeded in three
usually unrelated art venues, the comic book, the slick magazine
cartoon, and the syndicated newspaper strip. His comic
book work showed what can only be described as genius, both
in visual and scripting arenas. And he committed suicide at
the peak of his career, under mysterious circumstances.
What more do you want?
What Cole will be remembered for is Plastic Man, a character
who was literally polymorphous, who could appear in directly
adjacent panels as a sports car, a piece of furniture, wet wash
on a clothes line, part of a building, a mailbox, a lovely woman,
a billboard, or the curbstone of an entire block! Cole
worked with Will Eisner (ghosting THE SPIRIT
at one time) and Eisner's influence shows clearly
in covers like the one used as this book's title page, in which
six crooks simultaneously shoot one another to death while
the lines of their shots circumscribe a book store from which
Plastic Man looks out in amazement, while the store rests on
a huge book which is crushing Plas's comical sidekick Woozie!
But Cole quickly became indebted to nobody. His famous
crime comics (the legendary "Murder, Morphine and Me" is reprinted in its entirety)
were distinguished by gritty, violent, realistic
scripts and wildly distorted, surrealistic art as disturbing
as any nightmare.
Yet his syndicated strip "Betsy and Me" couldn't be more different. Drawn in a sophisticated-primitive style like the
UPA cartoons popular in the early '50s, it represents and presents the dull, day-to-day life of an
idyllic 1950s nuclear family. And Cole's art for PLAYBOY is more
different still... lavish watercolors of impossibly desirable
women, no two of which look even vaguely alike, a detail that is the mark of
a consummate illustrator... Virgil Finlay comes to mind.
The text, originally published in different and far more legible
form in the NEW YORKER, is interesting, but the real Jack
Cole never emerges. Perhaps, like Shakespeare's Buckingham, he
was too "deep revolving" to let anyone, even his beloved wife
Dorothy, see beneath the nondescript surface.
In any event, this is the best introduction to Jack Cole
we're likely to get any time soon. Too bad the design of
this plastic-bound volume (li'l joke there, har, har?) is so hideous
that you may need to keep an airline air-sickness bag close at
hand each time you turn a page!
Rating: 
Summary: The Popular Imagination
Review: The layouts of this chronicle on the life and work of Jack Cole do more than mimic the subject's zeal in artistic design, they also serve as a Greek Chorus companion to Spiegelman's text. It becomes apparent early on that the chosen pieces of Cole's art reflect a deeper sensibility, the opportunity to get a glimpse of their creator's person, perhaps even his state of mind. The final pages crescendo into a dizzying and powerful final commentary on Cole's giddiness, anguish and suicide. This is less a biography, and more of a tribute to Cole by Spiegelman, who writes with a boy's admiration, a colleague's understanding and a fellow artist's awe. Spiegleman, the Pulitizer Prize winning author and artist of the groundbreaking Holocaust graphic novel Maus, wisely allows Cole's work to stand-alone. The book contains two full Plastic Man stories and a riveting True Crime tale from the "Golden Age of Comics." The latter part of the book also includes Cole's work for Playboy, which helped shaped the young magazine's artistic style, and his own daily comic strip, "Betsy and Me." From all reasonable accounts, Cole was good-humored, and possessed the wherewithal to endure the long hours and short respect of the early comic book industry, perhaps evident by his ingenious creation Plastic Man, a criminal who reforms when a chemical spill makes his body rubber. However, Spiegelman also demonstrates Cole was a man at odds with himself, brewing an internal conflict that would eventually prove too much a burden to live with. Though he could earn greater respect, and wealth, from his own syndicated comic strip, and lush watercolors for Playboy, respectively, the freeform page layouts and fun evident in Plastic Man give way to art which, when seen in a full collection such as this, evoke a great sadness. Spiegelman explores rather than critiques the art, demonstrating Cole's mastery of catching the reader's eye and leading them through a page. Quotes from Cole's associates Hugh Hefner and legendary comic creator Will Eisner seem more like friendly conversation, rather than a determined attempt to dissect the man's psyche. Two of most welcome pieces in the book are written by Cole: the first, an essay published in Boy's Life detailing his coast to coast bike ride as a teenager, and the second, a brief letter to Hefner, where Cole tells the publisher he's going to commit suicide. By the time the letter was received, Cole had already performed the act. Those two pieces, bookends to a life and both displaying equal resolve, give the reader a sense of the man and his journey better than any commentary could. Art can be enjoyed separate from its creator. However, the artist is indivisible from his work. The vitality and wit of Cole's stories, as well as the energy and mastery of the composition, continue to find new audiences. Here, the enigma of Cole is unraveled, and what is left is a portrait of an artist ahead of his time coupled with a man trying to make sense of his circumstance.
Rating:
Summary: Draft Portrait of the Artist
Review: This biography/retrospective of cartoonist Jack Cole is certainly eye-catching with its chaotic design, popping full-bleed artwork, rounded corners, and varying paper stock, but as a portrait of the artist it never really amounts to more than a draft sketch. Spiegelman's text is slightly expanded from an article he wrote in 1999 for The New Yorker, and while it's a fairly decent biographical sketch of Cole's life and career as creator of Plastic Man, Playboy illustrator, and syndicated cartoonist, it never does more than skim the surface. Most indicative of this is the skimpy treatment Cole's unexpected and unexplained suicide is accorded. It's clear that Spiegelman (creator of the acclaimed Maus) loves Cole's work, but other than some generic plaudits that could apply to a number of cartoonists, it's never really clear why he considers Cole a genius (or for that matter, why the reader should). A graphic tribute it's more successful, combining reproductions of complete strips and stories (including the True Crime Comics classic "Murder, Morphine, and Me"), pieces from Playboy, family photos, unpublished sketches, covers, and collages. Some people are bound to hate renowned book designer Kidd's treatment of the material (and indeed, some of the text is a strain to read), but it seems wholly suitable to Cole's own frantic graphic style from the Plastic Man series. In the end, the book is unlikely to appeal to those outside the world of comics.
Rating:
Summary: The man remains a mystery
Review: This book is part biography and part reprint; in the end it is as puzzling as Cole's life. Choosing to reprint the comics in their newsprint format, with the original coloring and pages turning brown with age, while stylistically interesting, proves to be a mistake as the quality detracts from truly appreciating Cole's skill and inventiveness. The choice of strips ranges from enlightening ("Sadly-Sadly," "Murder, Morphine, and Me") to the simply silly ("Woozy") with a variety of covers and Playboy art mixed in. But where are the "Dare-Devil vs. Claw" strips said in this book to have "helped define the Golden Age of Comics?" (Quote from Spiegelman's text)
Basically an appreciation of Cole's work with solid insights into his art by Spiegelman, the book in the end brings the reader to know further understanding of the artist. Perhaps Chip Kidd's fever dream end paper with their collage effectively showing Cole's suicidal tendencies is the only appropriate way to end this confusing look at a confused man. Maybe Cole's work and life defies a thorough evaluation but I wouldn't mind another, more straightforward attempt at it.
Rating:
Summary: The man remains a mystery
Review: This book is part biography and part reprint; in the end it is as puzzling as Cole's life. Choosing to reprint the comics in their newsprint format, with the original coloring and pages turning brown with age, while stylistically interesting, proves to be a mistake as the quality detracts from truly appreciating Cole's skill and inventiveness. The choice of strips ranges from enlightening ("Sadly-Sadly," "Murder, Morphine, and Me") to the simply silly ("Woozy") with a variety of covers and Playboy art mixed in. But where are the "Dare-Devil vs. Claw" strips said in this book to have "helped define the Golden Age of Comics?" (Quote from Spiegelman's text)
Basically an appreciation of Cole's work with solid insights into his art by Spiegelman, the book in the end brings the reader to know further understanding of the artist. Perhaps Chip Kidd's fever dream end paper with their collage effectively showing Cole's suicidal tendencies is the only appropriate way to end this confusing look at a confused man. Maybe Cole's work and life defies a thorough evaluation but I wouldn't mind another, more straightforward attempt at it.
Rating:
Summary: A Highly Under-rated Creator finally gets his due...
Review: What a surprise. From it's unique design to the interior graphic layout (the panels, dialogue ballons, and covers shown directly relate to - or comment on - what's being discussed on the page, with sometimes eerie results), it's a real treat. It has rounded edges and full-bleed artwork throughout, giving an alien feel to the semi-paperback (more on that later). Inside are several Plastic Man Stories (One you may have read recently, in PM Archives Vol II, but the other two have never been reprinted as far as I know) as well as 'Murder, Morphine, and Me' from True Crime Comics. The text is an expanded version of the article Spiegelman wrote for the New Yorker. There are other gems here, as well, including selected Gag Strips from Playboy, unpublished Jack Cole artwork, several cover pieces and strip cartoons, photos, PM merchandising, etc. Just a fantastic book for fans of Cole or Plas. HIGHLY recommended. Thanks, Art and Chip. As a fan, I've been waiting for this book for years. Oh, and the best part about the book? The cover. It's plastic.
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