The Exception

When are words as dangerous as actions?

When words are actions.

The book I have in mind is called The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and it’s conspicuous by its absence on the Human Events list. While all of the books on their list were written by their listed authors, the Protocols were published in Russia in 1905 as a way to sway Tsar Nicholas II that there was a Jewish plot against him, and of world domination in general. It was bunk, of course. It was written by a forger named Mathieu Golovinski, cribbed from a political tract written by Maurice Joly in France in 1864. (His book, The Dialogue in Hell between Machiavelli and Montesquieu, had nothing to do with Jews, but was instead a thinly veiled attack on Napoleon III.) Golovinski changed some phrasing around, and submitted it as a recovered document from a secret meeting of Jewish elders in 1897.

Since then, it’s been at the foundation of antisemitic thought. It was discredited in 1920 – proved conclusively to be a forgery – but that hasn’t stopped its publication and dissemination around the world.

I got this information from Will Eisner’s excellent (and sadly, final) graphic novel, The Plot: The Secret Story of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. He put the tale of this forgery into comic-book form in order to spread the word about this lie that’s at the heart of so many acts of violence even today. It’s working: Up until I heard about Eisner’s book, I’d never heard about the Protocols. Maybe you hadn’t either.

I believe in free speech, and question anyone who says this or that book is dangerous or “harmful.” But the Protocols isn’t a book at all. It’s a frame.

Rob

Will Eisner, Rest in Peace

Let me start by saying: I’m a dunce. If someone means a lot to you, whether you know them or not, you should tell them. And even if you think you have a good reason to, don’t wait. They won’t always be around to hear it.

Will Eisner didn’t invent comics. He just made them better, in almost every conceivable way.

Eisner began working in comics in 1936, and soon formed the Eisner-Iger studios with his partner, Jerry Iger. They produced tons of comic strips, hiring such talents as Jack Kirby and Bob Kane. But he became best known after he left the studio to publish a comics supplement for newspapers, featuring a new creation, The Spirit.

The Spirit isn’t as famous as Superman or Batman, or even that longjohnny-come-lately, Spider-Man. But he had a superpower none of the others had. He had Will Eisner.

With the Spirit comics (7- or 8-page stories that ran from 1939 to 1952), Eisner didn’t exactly break all the rules of comics to that point. Instead, he wrote the rules. Eisner’s sense of staging, of pacing, of subject matter, of darn near everything set examples for everyone who followed. Since the Spirit was a newspaper supplement instead of a comics magazine, Eisner knew that his work was being read by adults as much or possibly more than by children. So he wrote and drew for adults, with sophistication rarely seen in contemporary comics, all the while telling action-packed, or funny, or spooky tales that any kid would enjoy.

Years later, after leaving The Spirit to produce commercial comics for groups such as the Army, RCA Records, and the Baltimore Colts, he came back to the mainstream comics world. But instead of working on the 22-page magazines, he wrote and drew a book called A Contract With God. (It’s been called “the first graphic novel,” and while it may not be a novel – it’s four short stories – it was certainly one of the first in the format.) Since then, he’s continued to produce great works in the field, including two instructional works (Comics and Sequential Art and Graphic Storytelling) and a host of wonderful generational sagas. He never retired; a new book, The Plot, will be published by W.W. Norton this year. He’s a master. He’s THE master.

And now he’s gone. He died on Monday night at age 87, from complications stemming from his heart surgery late last year. And I never told him how impressed I am with his achievements, and how grateful I am for all he’s done. Comics would be a dreary place without Will Eisner. In so many ways, he led the way.

Which is why, when I wrote my book on Lewis and Clark a couple of years ago, the dedication read: “This book is dedicated to Will Eisner, a pioneer of the imagination.” He blazed a trail that has fascinated me since before I even knew who he was.

But me, I procrastinate. I let things slide. I held off on sending it to him for all sorts of reasons. I figured I would hand the book to him at a convention. I wanted to tell him personally. But I didn’t, in person or in a letter. And now he’s gone.

Or rather, he’s dead. Dead but not gone. His work lives on. The works of those he inspired continues. And other work will begin, of those will inspire tomorrow.

Thank you, Will.

Rob