How two boys invented America’s greatest superhero | Little White Lies

Long Read

How two boys invent­ed America’s great­est superhero

21 Mar 2016

Words by Ceri Thomas

Silhouetted figure in a superhero costume ripping open their shirt to reveal the dollar sign symbol on their chest, set against a vibrant pink background.
Silhouetted figure in a superhero costume ripping open their shirt to reveal the dollar sign symbol on their chest, set against a vibrant pink background.
The sto­ry of Jer­ry Siegel and Joe Shus­ter is the most inspir­ing and depress­ing in the his­to­ry of the com­ic-book industry.

Amer­i­ca is between Gulf Wars, Bill Clin­ton is in the White House, Tony Blair is still dream­ing of Num­ber 10 and super­hero block­busters that don’t have a bat in them are box-office cyanide. It’s the mid-’90s and 32-year-old Amer­i­can writer Michael Chabon (pro­nounced, as he says, Shea as in Shea Sta­di­um, Bön as in Jovi”) pub­lish­es his sec­ond nov­el, Won­der Boys’.

While his tale of a col­lege pro­fes­sor with writer’s block becomes a crit­i­cal­ly suc­cess­ful movie, Chabon begins the hunt for ideas for his next book. It’s a search that takes him into his own past, and the past of one of his child­hood heroes, as some­thing long-for­got­ten catch­es his eye. I had a box left over from my child­hood,” remem­bers Chabon. It was taped shut and it just went with me from place to place. I untaped it and the smell of old com­ic books waft­ed out. It just trig­gered something.”

As a child, Chabon was a com­ic-book geek. His grand­fa­ther had been a typog­ra­ph­er at a plant where com­ic-books were print­ed and lit­tle Michael inher­it­ed bags of them. At age 10, he had decid­ed to estab­lish a com­ic-book club, rent­ing a room for $25 and plac­ing adver­tise­ments in news­pa­pers. Only one kid showed up. But now, it all came back to him. Chabon had already been think­ing of writ­ing a sto­ry set in the mid­dle years of the 20th cen­tu­ry – his Brook­lyn-born dad had filled his head with tales of the era’s movies, radio shows, books and music since he was a child – but as he breathed in the old comics he realised that what he want­ed to do most of all was com­bine the two. Cram in the peri­od detail, yes, but mar­ry it to the sto­ry of two young men try­ing to make their way in the rough-and-tum­ble ear­ly years of Amer­i­can comics.

For inspi­ra­tion, Chabon looked to the real lives of the men who cre­at­ed so many of his favourite char­ac­ters. Men like Jack The King’ Kir­by, Stan Lee and Will Eis­ner. But most of all to the writer and artist team respon­si­ble for cre­at­ing (“In Cleve­land on this one hot night in 1936,” as Chabon put it) the great­est Amer­i­can super­hero of them all: Superman.

The sto­ry of Jer­ry Siegel and Joe Shus­ter is the most inspir­ing and most depress­ing in the his­to­ry of the com­ic-book indus­try. They were 16-year-old stu­dents when they met in 1930 and each instant­ly recog­nised a soul mate (“When Joe and I first met, it was like the right chem­i­cals com­ing togeth­er,” said Siegel years lat­er). Almost imme­di­ate­ly, they began bat­ting around com­ic-book ideas, dream­ing up char­ac­ters like super­nat­ur­al crime­fight­er Dr Occult and swash­buck­ling adven­tur­er Hen­ri Duvall.

By the mid-’30s, their work was reg­u­lar­ly being fea­tured in pub­li­ca­tions like New Fun and Detec­tive Comics, but the pair strug­gled to find a home for one of their most cher­ished cre­ations – a blue-and-red-clad alien with super-strength and the abil­i­ty to leap tall build­ings in a sin­gle bound. They had been hon­ing the Super­man” idea for a few years, but no one would take it. Final­ly, a year before Hitler marched into Poland to give the world its great supervil­lain, Nation­al Allied Pub­li­ca­tions (lat­er to become DC Comics) made Super­man the cov­er sto­ry in issue one of their new Action Comics. For Kal-El, it was up, up and away. For Siegel and Shus­ter, it was the start of a long and bit­ter war.

In order to get the char­ac­ter pub­lished, they had signed a 10-year con­tract to pro­vide Super­man sto­ries for Nation­al Allied. But to get that con­tract, they had also agreed to sell the rights to the char­ac­ter. The sum they were giv­en for a prop­er­ty soon to be worth bil­lions? A mere $130.

Near­ing the end of their deal and bit­ter­ly unhap­py about the tiny crumb of the vast Super­man pie they’d been giv­en, Siegel and Shus­ter sued Nation­al Allied over the rights. They even­tu­al­ly lost the court case, only gain­ing $94,000 from Nation­al Allied by agree­ing not to pur­sue the mat­ter fur­ther. In the after­math, the com­ic-book com­pa­ny removed Siegel and Shuster’s byline from their comics. No longer would they be iden­ti­fied as the cre­ators of Super­man. They’d been writ­ten out of com­ic-book history.

For the next 30 years, Siegel odd-jobbed his way around the com­ic-book indus­try as a writer for hire, while Shuster’s dete­ri­o­rat­ing eye­sight even­tu­al­ly forced him out of illus­trat­ing and into a life of near des­ti­tu­tion. It was only in the late 70s, with the release of the first Super­man film star­ring Christo­pher Reeve loom­ing, that their names were rein­stat­ed on the comics after Siegel launched a pub­lic­i­ty cam­paign open­ly sham­ing DC Comics for the way he and Shus­ter had been treated.

By the time Chabon opened that box of comics and inhaled, Siegel would be just months away from his last breath and Shus­ter was already dead. But the more Chabon read about them, the more their sto­ry lived on with him. It just all came togeth­er,” he recalled. I said, I’m going to write a nov­el about two Gold­en Age com­ic-book cre­ators.’ [Siegel and Shus­ter] cre­at­ed this char­ac­ter who, 70 years lat­er, is still very much with us and yet they saw very lit­tle of its suc­cess them­selves. It was the com­bi­na­tion of wild imag­i­na­tion, male part­ner­ship, pop­u­lar art and com­mer­cial fail­ure that res­onat­ed and got me started.”

In the spec­tac­u­lar open­ing chap­ters of Chabon’s epic book, The Amaz­ing Adven­tures of Kava­lier & Clay’, 19-year-old artist Josef Kava­lier smug­gles him­self out of Nazi-occu­pied Prague in 1939 and ends up slumped like a ques­tion mark against the door frame” in the Brook­lyn bed­room of his cousin Sam Clay. Togeth­er they invent a Hou­di­ni-like super­hero called The Escapist who vows to free all who toil in chains.” While their super­hero bat­ters Hitler in their pages, Joe des­per­ate­ly strug­gles to res­cue his fam­i­ly from Fas­cism and Sam dis­cov­ers his own shackles.

Gen­tly inspired by the tri­umph and tragedy of Siegel and Shus­ter, it begins with the basic tale of two com­ic cre­ators squeezed out of the rights to their cre­ation, but spins into the worlds of stage mag­ic and Judaism, sex­u­al­i­ty and survivor’s guilt, art and mon­ey, Sal­vador Dalí and Orson Welles, love and redemp­tion, his­to­ry and fic­tion. It might have been an unholy mess. But Chabon’s nov­el is glo­ri­ous­ly well-writ­ten, afraid to spin pages-long yarns inside paren­the­ses or slalom the read­er down breath­tak­ing­ly con­struct­ed sen­tences that nev­er throw us off. I dis­cov­ered strengths I had hoped that I pos­sessed – the abil­i­ty to pull off mul­ti­ple points of view, his­tor­i­cal set­tings, the pas­sage of years – but which had nev­er been test­ed before,” said Chabon.

It was, as promised, amaz­ing. When The Amaz­ing Adven­tures of Kava­lier & Clay’ was pub­lished in 2000, the reviews flood­ed in like love let­ters. It won the 2001 Pulitzer Prize for fic­tion. Bret Eas­t­on Ellis declared the nov­el one of the three great books of my gen­er­a­tion.” And it has gone on to become one of the most read and most loved of mod­ern Amer­i­can nov­els. In a post­mod­ern twist, there have even been comics star­ring The Escapist. But there’s one obsta­cle that Chabon and his mag­num opus haven’t man­aged to leap in a sin­gle bound: turn­ing the book into a film. Not for want of try­ing. The rights were sold before the nov­el had even been pub­lished, with Won­der Boys pro­duc­er Scott Rudin snap­ping them up for Para­mount Pic­tures. He hired Chabon to write the script, a process of chop­ping, con­dens­ing and brow-fur­row­ing that by 2002 had seen the author plough through eight drafts in 16 months.

In a weird rever­sal, as Chabon tried to snip scenes from his 600-page nov­el, Rudin tried to put them back in. It’s like those arcade games where a gopher head pops out,” said Chabon at the time. I fix this and then anoth­er head pops out.” Devel­op­ment rum­bled on, with first Syd­ney Pol­lack and then Extreme­ly Loud And Incred­i­bly Close direc­tor Stephen Daldry in the frame to direct. Jude Law’s name was sta­pled to it for a while in 2005 as cast­ing rumours start­ed to buzz. Tobey Maguire as Sam Clay. Jamie Bell as Joe Kava­lier. Natal­ie Port­man as Rosa Saks. Andrew Garfield, Ryan Gosling, Ben Whishaw, Jason Schwartz­man. It buzzed very seri­ous­ly for about 11 min­utes,” said Chabon. Then it went away.”

The project con­tin­ued in devel­op­ment for anoth­er 18 months after that, with Rudin even com­mis­sion­ing test-reels illus­trat­ing how The Escapist’s com­ic-book bat­tles could be inte­grat­ed with live action (Google: Rudin Kava­lier and Clay test’). But in 2006, the stu­dio put the project into turn­around. Para­mount may sim­ply have decid­ed what many com­men­ta­tors had long claimed: that the book was unfilmable. Chabon once said that the biggest con­nec­tion between Kava­lier and Clay’s fic­tion­al adven­tures and the real-life sto­ry of Jer­ry Siegel and Joe Shus­ter was that both were ulti­mate­ly sto­ries of suc­cess fol­lowed by failure.”

But hope hasn’t quite died com­plete­ly. A year ago, Daldry open­ly dis­cussed the idea of an HBO minis­eries. And when Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch was recent­ly asked what his dream project would be, he answered imme­di­ate­ly: There’s a very good book called Kava­lier & Clay’…”

This arti­cle was orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in LWLies 47: the Man of Steel issue.

You might like