A 1932 Illustrated Map of Harlem’s Night Clubs: From the Cotton Club to the Savoy Ballroom

32 Harlem Map

Harlem’s under­go­ing anoth­er Renais­sance, and has been for years now. Crime’s down, real estate prices are up, and throngs of pale-faced hip­sters are descend­ing to check the area out.

Sure, something’s gained, but something’s lost, too.

For today’s hol­i­day in Harlem, we’re going to climb in the Way­back Machine. Set the dial for 1932. Don’t for­get your map. (Click the image above to view a larg­er ver­sion.)

This deliri­ous arti­fact comes cour­tesy of Elmer Simms Camp­bell (1906–1971), an artist whose race proved an imped­i­ment to career advance­ment in his native Mid­west. Not long after relo­cat­ing to New York City, he had the good for­tune to be befriend­ed by the great Cab Cal­loway, star of the Cot­ton Club. Hi-de-hi-de-hi-de-ho! Check the low­er left cor­ner of your map.

You may notice that the com­pass rose devi­ates rather dras­ti­cal­ly from estab­lished norms. As you’ve no doubt heard, the Bronx is up, and the Battery’s down, but not in this case. Were you to choose those trees in the upper left cor­ner as your start­ing point, you’d be at the top of Cen­tral Park, basi­cal­ly equidis­tant from the east and west sides. (Take the 2 or the 3 to 110th Street…)

But keep in mind that this map is not drawn to scale. I know it looks like the joints are jump­ing from the sec­ond you step off the curb, but in real­i­ty, you’ll need to hoof it 21 blocks from the top of Cen­tral Park to 131st Street for things to start cookin’. Hope­ful­ly, this geo­graph­i­cal lib­er­ty won’t get you too hot under the col­lar. And if it does, well, it may be Pro­hi­bi­tion, but stress-reliev­ing bev­er­ages await you in every loca­tion list­ed, as well as in some 500 speakeasies Camp­bell allowed to remain on the down low.

If that does­n’t do it for you, there’s a guy sell­ing reefer across the street from Earl “Snake­hips” Tuck­er.

As you stag­ger back and forth between Sev­enth Avenue and Lenox (now referred to as Adam Clay­ton Pow­ell Jr. Boule­vard and Mal­colm X Boule­vard), bear in mind that Camp­bell was the first African-Amer­i­can car­toon­ist to be nation­al­ly pub­lished in the New York­er, Play­boy, and Esquire, whose bug-eyed, now retired mas­cot, Esky, was a Camp­bell cre­ation.

In the end, he was an extreme­ly suc­cess­ful illus­tra­tor, though few of his cre­ations are reflec­tive of his race.

The map above, which did dou­ble duty as end­pa­pers for Calloway’s auto­bi­og­ra­phy, Of Min­nie the Moocher and Me, is far clos­er to home.

Right above, see Cab Cal­loway per­form “Hotcha Razz Ma Tazz” at the famous Cot­ton Club, in Harlem, 1935.

via Big Think

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2014.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Cab Calloway’s “Hep­ster Dic­tio­nary,” a 1939 Glos­sary of the Lin­go (the “Jive”) of the Harlem Renais­sance

Dis­cov­er Langston Hugh­es’ Rent Par­ty Ads & The Harlem Renais­sance Tra­di­tion of Play­ing Gigs to Keep Roofs Over Heads

Duke Ellington’s Sym­pho­ny in Black, Star­ring a 19-Year-old Bil­lie Hol­i­day

Rare Record­ing of Con­tro­ver­sial­ist, Jour­nal­ist and Amer­i­can Lit­er­ary & Social Crit­ic, H.L. Menck­en

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and the­ater mak­er in NYC.

Read 20,000+ Golden Age Comic Books Free Online: Superheroes, Westerns, Romance, Horror, and More

For gen­er­a­tions of kids in the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, few plea­sures were as intox­i­cat­ing as a trip to the com­ic-book shop with the week’s allowance fresh in hand. Those of us who grew up in the nineties had any num­ber of high-pro­duc­tion-val­ue paper super­hero spec­ta­cles from major pub­lish­ers on which to blow our mon­ey. Per­son­al­ly, I pre­ferred the greater val­ue of Carl Barks’ old Uncle Scrooge and Don­ald Duck sto­ries then being reprint­ed. But noth­ing offered quite so much val­ue as the card­board box­es, kept below the main shelves, filled as they were with pre­vi­ous­ly owned com­ic books from the fifties, six­ties, sev­en­ties, and eight­ies. As I recall, a cou­ple of dol­lars could get you a whole after­noon’s read­ing mate­r­i­al.

Now you don’t even need the cou­ple of dol­lars. Comicbooks.com has opened an online read­ing room stocked with more than 20,000 dig­i­tized and restored gold­en-age comics, with sev­er­al hun­dred more issues added every day. Though you may not find Don­ald Duck there, you will find oth­er “fun­ny ani­mals” — as enthu­si­asts call them — like Dizzy Duck, Lucky Duck, Super Duck Comics, and Won­der Duck in Adven­ture at the Rodeo of the Fear­less Quack­er.

Those already famil­iar with the all-Amer­i­can exploits of Archie and his Riverdale High coterie might con­sid­er such alter­na­tives as Can­dy, Tip­py Teen, and Hap Haz­ard. And who needs Super­man and Bat­man when you can enjoy the super-hero­ic adven­tures of Sky­man, Bul­let­man, Cat-Man, and Strong Man?

Giv­en the main­stream promi­nence of com­ic books in the mid-twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, these most­ly for­got­ten pub­li­ca­tions now con­sti­tute an espe­cial­ly vivid — at times even lurid — means of pop-cul­tur­al time trav­el, through their con­tent as well as their adver­tise­ments (for itch­ing pow­der and oth­er prac­ti­cal joke sup­plies, mus­cle-build­ing and jiu-jit­su cours­es, war bonds, etc.). In any genre, whether super­hero, west­ern, romance, fun­ny ani­mal, hor­ror, sci­ence fic­tion, they offer a con­nec­tion with read­ers of decades past. In their form, as you can see on Comicbooks.com’s time­line of the evo­lu­tion of what the French call le neu­vième art, they offer a con­nec­tion with even more dis­tant ones: those of  pulp fic­tion, humor week­lies, chro­molith­o­graph car­toons, pen­ny dread­fuls, and twelfth-cen­tu­ry Japan­ese chōjū-giga scrolls — the orig­i­nal fun­ny ani­mals. Enter the free com­ic col­lec­tion here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free: Down­load 15,000+ Free Gold­en Age Comics from the Dig­i­tal Com­ic Muse­um

Down­load Over 22,000 Gold­en & Sil­ver Age Com­ic Books from the Com­ic Book Plus Archive

The Comi­clo­pe­dia: An Online Archive of 14,000 Com­ic Artists, From Stan Lee and Jack Kir­by, to Mœbius and Hergé

Explore a Big Archive of Vin­tage Ear­ly Comics: 1700–1929

R.I.P. Stan Lee: Take His Free Online Course “The Rise of Super­heroes and Their Impact On Pop Cul­ture”

The Pulp Fic­tion Archive: The Cheap, Thrilling Sto­ries That Enter­tained a Gen­er­a­tion of Read­ers (1896–1946)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

What Happens When the Author Directs the Movie: How Robert Rodriguez Recruited Frank Miller to Co-Direct Sin City

In the nine­teen-nineties, Quentin Taran­ti­no and Robert Rodriguez first col­lab­o­rat­ed on a movie. No, it was­n’t From Dusk Till Dawn, the Rodriguez-direct­ed crime-pic­ture-turned-hor­ror-com­e­dy in which Taran­ti­no plays George Clooney’s psy­chot­ic broth­er. It was an anthol­o­gy pic­ture called Four Rooms, whose sep­a­rate but inter­con­nect­ed sto­ries, all set in the same hotel on New Year’s Eve, were direct­ed by an all-star line­up of the “Indiewood” auteurs of 1995: Taran­ti­no, Rodriguez, Alli­son Anders, and Alexan­dre Rock­well. Rodriguez jumped at the chance to do short-form work and col­lab­o­rate with friends, but alas, the con­cept inspired much more enthu­si­asm from movie­go­ers than the result, to say noth­ing of the crit­ics’ judg­ment.

“Antholo­gies nev­er work,” Rodriguez said last year dur­ing an inter­view with Lex Frid­man. Even with the best film­mak­ers par­tic­i­pat­ing, “they bomb because peo­ple can’t quite wrap their head around it”: they feel like the movie keeps start­ing over and over again. Yet in the full­ness of time, Four Rooms took his career up a lev­el, not down.

“I real­ly want this anthol­o­gy thing to work,” he says, explain­ing his mind­set about a decade after that film’s fail­ure. “What if it’s three sto­ries, like a three-act struc­ture, not four, same direc­tor, not four dif­fer­ent direc­tors?” After all, “I had already done one and fig­ured out how I could do it bet­ter.” The result was Sin City, from 2005, his adap­ta­tion of Frank Miller’s acclaimed noir com­ic-book series co-direct­ed with Miller him­self.

By now, com­ic-book movies, or at least movies that make use of intel­lec­tu­al prop­er­ty drawn from com­ic books, have long been com­mon­place. What Rodriguez and Miller made two decades ago was some­thing dif­fer­ent: a film that looked and felt just like its source mate­r­i­al. As Dan­ny Boyd explains in the Cin­e­maS­tix video at the top of the post, Sin City was “not an adap­ta­tion, but a trans­la­tion,” which Rodriguez thought of less as bring­ing the page to the screen than “tak­ing cin­e­ma and turn­ing it into a book.” Iron­i­cal­ly, Miller had meant to avoid the whole Hol­ly­wood devel­op­ment process by delib­er­ate­ly mak­ing the orig­i­nal comics as un-filmable as pos­si­ble — he just had­n’t reck­oned on what tech­nol­o­gy and Rodriguez’s D.I.Y. ethos would even­tu­al­ly make pos­si­ble.

Hav­ing famous­ly bro­ken into Hol­ly­wood with his debut fea­ture El Mari­achi, the “$7,000 movie” on which he per­formed all tech­ni­cal duties, Rodriguez under­stood how dig­i­tal film­mak­ing could empow­er indi­vid­ual cre­ators. The green screen, which enables the place­ment of real actors into any set­ting imag­in­able, promised him a way to re-cre­ate the “lay­ers of unre­al­i­ty” that con­sti­tute a flam­boy­ant­ly styl­ized work of ultra-noir like Sin City. In the video just above, Boyd shows us how green-screen shoot­ing made it pos­si­ble to real­ize the comic’s elab­o­rate aes­thet­ic in motion, cre­at­ing not a cheap sub­sti­tute for real sets and loca­tions, as has since become dispir­it­ing­ly com­mon in Hol­ly­wood, but anoth­er real­i­ty alto­geth­er. And if you can bring Quentin Taran­ti­no in to guest-direct a sequence, as Rodriguez did, so much the bet­ter.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Direc­tor Robert Rodriguez Teach­es The Basics of Film­mak­ing in Under 10 Min­utes

How the “Mar­veliza­tion” of Cin­e­ma Accel­er­ates the Decline of Film­mak­ing

When a Mod­ern Direc­tor Makes a Fake Old Movie: A Video Essay on David Fincher’s Mank

The Essen­tial Ele­ments of Film Noir Explained in One Grand Info­graph­ic

Every Spi­der-Man Movie and TV Show Explained By Kevin Smith

Niger­ian Teenagers Are Mak­ing Slick Sci Fi Films With Their Smart­phones

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

The Forgotten Moment When Superman Fought Prejudice in America Instead of Villains (1950)

superman-all-american

It makes sense that Super­man would take a tol­er­ant view of immi­grants and oth­er minori­ties, giv­en that he him­self arrived on Earth as a refugee from the plan­et Kryp­ton.

The Man of Steel may strike you as an unlike­ly mouth­piece for pro­gres­sive ideals, but 1950 found him on a book cov­er, above, engaged in con­ver­sa­tion with a small crowd of most­ly white boys:

“…and remem­ber, boys and girls, your school – like our coun­try – is made up of Amer­i­cans of many dif­fer­ent races, reli­gions and nation­al ori­gins, so … If YOU hear any­body talk against a school­mate or any­one else because of his reli­gion, race or nation­al ori­gin – don’t wait: tell him THAT KIND OF TALK IS UN-AMERICAN. HELP KEEP YOUR SCHOOL ALL-AMERICAN!”

In oth­er words, cit­i­zens must steel them­selves to take action, because you can’t always count on a super­hero to show up and make things right.

The cheap paper jack­et, above, was dis­trib­uted to school chil­dren by the Insti­tute For Amer­i­can Democ­ra­cy, an off­shoot of the New York-based Anti-Defama­tion League.

Mean­while, a full col­or ver­sion of the 66-year-old illus­tra­tion has been mak­ing the rounds on social media. Let us con­sid­er it a place­hold­er. Even­tu­al­ly some­one will sure­ly take it back to the draw­ing board to add more girls, chil­dren with dis­abil­i­ties, and chil­dren of col­or.

superman-all-american-color

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2017.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

1950s Bat­man Car­toon Tells Kids: “Don’t Believe Those Crack­pot Lies About Peo­ple Who Wor­ship Dif­fer­ent­ly”

Read Mar­tin Luther King and The Mont­gomery Sto­ry: The Influ­en­tial 1957 Civ­il Rights Com­ic Book

Dr. Seuss Draws Anti-Japan­ese Car­toons Dur­ing WWII, Then Atones with Hor­ton Hears a Who!

The Orig­i­nal 1940s Super­man Car­toon: Watch 17 Clas­sic Episodes Free Online

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er in NYC.

What’s Entering the Public Domain in 2026: Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying, All Quiet on the Western Front, Betty Boop & More

Though it isn’t the kind of thing one hears dis­cussed every day, seri­ous Dis­ney fans do tend to know that Goofy’s orig­i­nal name was Dip­py Dawg. But how many of the non-obses­sive know that Mick­ey’s faith­ful pet Plu­to was first called Rover? (We pass over in dig­ni­fied silence the qua­si-philo­soph­i­cal ques­tion of why the for­mer dog is humanoid and the lat­ter isn’t.) It is Rover, as dis­tinct from Plu­to, who pass­es into the pub­lic domain this new year, one of a cast of now-lib­er­at­ed char­ac­ters includ­ing Blondie and Dag­wood as well as Bet­ty Boop — who, upon mak­ing her debut in Fleis­ch­er Stu­dios’ Dizzy Dish­es of 1930, has a some­what canoid appear­ance her­self. You can see them all in the video above from Duke Uni­ver­si­ty’s Cen­ter for the Study of the Pub­lic Domain, with much more infor­ma­tion avail­able in their blog post mark­ing this year’s “Pub­lic Domain Day.”

The year 1930, write the Cen­ter’s Jen­nifer Jenk­ins and James Boyle, was one “of detec­tives, jazz, speakeasies, and icon­ic char­ac­ters step­ping onto the cul­tur­al stage — many of whom have been locked behind copy­right for near­ly a cen­tu­ry.”

Nov­els that come avail­able this year include William Faulkn­er’s As I Lay Dying, Dashiell Ham­met­t’s The Mal­tese Fal­con, and Agatha Christie’s The Mur­der at the Vic­arage; among the films are Lewis Mile­stone’s Best Pic­ture-win­ning All Qui­et on the West­ern Front, Vic­tor Heer­man’s Marx Broth­ers pic­ture Ani­mal Crack­ers, and Luis Buñuel and Sal­vador Dalí’s L’Âge d’Or. In music, com­po­si­tions like “I Got Rhythm” and “Embrace­able You” by the Gersh­win Broth­ers as well as record­ings like “Nobody Knows the Trou­ble I’ve Seen” by Mar­i­an Ander­son and “Sweet Geor­gia Brown” by Ben Bernie and His Hotel Roo­sevelt Orches­tra have also, at long last, gone pub­lic.

Reflec­tion on some of these works them­selves sug­gests some­thing about the impor­tance of the pub­lic domain. With the title of Cakes and Ale, anoth­er book in this year’s crop, Som­er­set Maugh­am makes ref­er­ence to “a clas­sic pub­lic domain work, in this case Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night”; so, for that mat­ter, does Faulkn­er, giv­en that the line “as I lay dying” comes from the Odyssey. “To tell new sto­ries, we draw from old­er ones,” write Jenk­ins and Boyle. “One work of art inspires anoth­er — that is how the pub­lic domain feeds cre­ativ­i­ty.” Today, we’re free to take explic­it inspi­ra­tion for our own work from Nan­cy Drew, “Just a Gigo­lo,” Blondie, Mon­dri­an’s Com­po­si­tion with Red, Blue, and Yel­low, Hitch­cock­’s Mur­der!, and much else besides. And by all means use Rover, but if you also want to bring in Dip­py Dawg, you’re going to have to wait until 2028.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What’s Enter­ing the Pub­lic Domain in 2025: Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, Ear­ly Hitch­cock Films, Tintin and Pop­eye Car­toons & More

The Harlem Jazz Singer Who Inspired Bet­ty Boop: Meet the Orig­i­nal Boop-Oop-a-Doop, “Baby Esther”

Car­toon­ists Draw Their Famous Car­toon Char­ac­ters While Blind­fold­ed (1947)

Watch Restored Ver­sions of Clas­sic Fleis­ch­er Car­toons on Youtube, Fea­tur­ing Bet­ty Boop, Koko the Clown & Oth­ers

Vin­tage Audio: William Faulkn­er Reads From As I Lay Dying

16 Free Hitch­cock Movies Online

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Did Tintin Creator Hergé Collaborate with the Nazis? A Historical Investigation

The Adven­tures of Tintin may be a chil­dren’s com­ic series from mid-twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry Europe, but its appeal has long since tran­scend­ed the bound­aries of form, cul­ture, and gen­er­a­tion. In fact, many if not most seri­ous­ly ded­i­cat­ed fans of Tintin are in mid­dle age and beyond, and few of them can have avoid­ed ever con­sid­er­ing the ques­tion of his cre­ator’s activ­i­ties dur­ing the Sec­ond World War. Georges Remi, known by the nom de plume Hergéwas born to a low­er-mid­dle-class fam­i­ly in a Brus­sels sub­urb in 1907: utter­ly mun­dane begin­nings, per­haps, but ones that would lead to what the apoc­ryphal ancient Chi­nese curse calls inter­est­ing times, even for a young man whose inter­ests did­n’t run far past scout­ing and draw­ing.

After serv­ing in the Bel­gian army, explains his­to­ry YouTu­ber Mark Fel­ton in his new video above, Remi was hired by the con­ser­v­a­tive Catholic paper Le Vingtième Siè­cle to draw comics for its chil­dren’s sup­ple­ment Le Petit Vingtième. It was there that he became Hergé and cre­at­ed the boy reporter Tintin, whom the paper’s edi­tor asked to be sent to a fic­tion­al­ized Sovi­et Union in order to expose the evils of the Bol­she­viks. Pop­u­lar­i­ty came imme­di­ate­ly, and built up to the degree that an actor was hired to put his hair into a quiff and “return” by train to an appre­cia­tive crowd in Brus­sels upon the sto­ry’s con­clu­sion. There fol­lowed the fur­ther adven­tures of Tintin in the Con­go (at the time, a Bel­gian colony) and Tintin in Amer­i­ca, both of which have since come in for a great deal of crit­i­cism for their reliance on stereo­types.

Though very much his own artist, Hergé at this stage let the pol­i­tics of Tintin sto­ries be dic­tat­ed by high­er-ups. Con­ceived in response to Japan’s inva­sion of Manchuria, The Blue Lotus, from 1934, did offer him an oppor­tu­ni­ty to increase the real­ism of his art, ren­der­ing the look and feel of Chi­na as accu­rate­ly as his research could make pos­si­ble; he con­tin­ued to incor­po­rate large amounts of detail from all over the world into The Bro­ken Ear, The Black Island, and King Ottokar’s Scep­tre. Though that last deals with fic­tion­al Euro­pean coun­tries, it also clear­ly sat­i­rizes the inva­sive ten­den­cies of Hitler’s Ger­many — which would come for Hergé’s home­land in 1940, shut­ting down Le Petit Vingtième, putting him out of a job, and even req­ui­si­tion­ing his home.

Even­tu­al­ly, Hergé land­ed on his feet and joined Le Soir, Bel­gium’s largest French-lan­guage news­pa­per. Though he could pub­lish Tintin there, the Nazis had turned it into their ide­o­log­i­cal mouth­piece, a fact that did­n’t reflect well on Hergé after the Allied vic­to­ry. He found him­self black­list­ed and cat­e­go­rized with the thou­sands of Bel­gian col­lab­o­ra­tors who could receive the death penal­ty or life in prison, but an inves­ti­ga­tion into his case found him to be “a blun­der­er rather than a trai­tor” — shades of P. G. Wode­house mak­ing broad­casts about the lighter side of intern­ment for the Gestapo. His good stand­ing as a cit­i­zen and artist was even­tu­al­ly restored, though even today, his wartime activ­i­ties are occa­sion­al­ly called into ques­tion. Still, he was able to con­tin­ue Tintin’s adven­tures until he died in 1983, engag­ing in only the kind of col­lab­o­ra­tion he could do with his staff at Stu­dios Hergé.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hergé Draws Tintin in Vin­tage Footage (and What Explains the Character’s Endur­ing Appeal)

How Andy Warhol and Tintin Cre­ator Hergé Mutu­al­ly Admired and Influ­enced One Anoth­er

Comics Inspired by Wait­ing for Godot, Fea­tur­ing Tintin, Roz Chast, and Beav­is & Butthead

How Dis­ney Fought Fas­cism with Pro­pa­gan­da Car­toons Dur­ing World War II & Avert­ed Finan­cial Col­lapse

How the Nazis Waged War on Mod­ern Art: Inside the “Degen­er­ate Art” Exhi­bi­tion of 1937

The Nazis’ 10 Con­trol-Freak Rules for Jazz Per­form­ers: A Strange List from World War II

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

An Introduction to Moebius, the Comic Artist Who Influenced Blade Runner and Miyazaki

The work of the com­ic artist Jean Giraud, bet­ter known as Moe­bius (or, more styl­ish­ly, Mœbius), has often appeared on Open Cul­ture over the years, but even if you’ve nev­er seen it here, you know it. Grant­ed, you may nev­er have read a page of it, to say noth­ing of an entire graph­ic nov­el­’s worth, but even so, you’ve absorbed it indi­rect­ly through gen­er­a­tions of inter­na­tion­al pop­u­lar cul­ture. If you enjoy Blade Run­nerAki­ra, the man­ga and ani­me of Hayao Miyaza­ki, and even the Star Wars movies, you must, on some lev­el, enjoy Moe­bius, so deeply did his com­ic art shape the look and feel of those major works, to say noth­ing of all it has inspired at fur­ther remove.

The new video above by Youtu­ber matttt goes in depth on the bio­graph­i­cal, cul­tur­al, and psy­cho­log­i­cal force that shaped the artist’s vision on the page, whose sheer imag­i­na­tive force and per­sis­tent­ly strange sub­lim­i­ty looked like noth­ing else in comics when he hit his stride in the nine­teen-sev­en­ties. It helped that he was French, and thus an inher­i­tor of the grand Fran­coph­o­ne tra­di­tion of the bande dess­inée, an art form tak­en much more seri­ous­ly than com­ic strips and books in Amer­i­ca. Bel­gian comics like Spirou and Tintin caught his atten­tion ear­ly on, and time spent as a teenag­er amid the vast desert land­scapes of Mex­i­co instilled him with a taste for spir­i­tu­al grandeur.

An appren­tice­ship under the Bel­gian com­ic artist Joseph “Jijé” Gillain, whom he idol­ized, helped Giraud — who had not yet become Moe­bius — to refine his style. His cre­ation of the Jean Paul Bel­mon­do-look­ing cow­boy Blue­ber­ry in the ear­ly nine­teen-six­ties pro­duced what turned out to be his most lucra­tive fran­chise.  But it was­n’t until his encounter with taboo-break­ing Amer­i­can “under­ground” comics that flour­ished lat­er in that decade, and espe­cial­ly the work of Robert Crumb, that he found it with­in him­self to let loose, explor­ing tech­no­log­i­cal, mytho­log­i­cal, and psy­cho­sex­u­al realms hith­er­to unknown in his medi­um.

It was with the launch of the comics-anthol­o­gy mag­a­zine Métal Hurlant in 1974, lat­er repack­aged in the Unit­ed States as Heavy Met­al, that Moe­bius’ work found its way to a much wider pub­lic. Notable read­ers includ­ed William Gib­son, Rid­ley Scott, Luc Besson, George Lucas, Ale­jan­dro Jodor­owsky, and the Wachowskis: some imi­tat­ed Moe­bius, and oth­ers hired him. Through the Japan­ese edi­tion of Star­log mag­a­zine in the late sev­en­ties, his art re-shaped the aes­thet­ics of man­ga­ka like Aki­ra cre­ator Kat­suhi­ro Oto­mo and Stu­dio Ghi­b­li co-founder Hayao Miyaza­ki. Moe­bius him­self lat­er took on Oto­mo as one of his own influ­ences, and in trib­ute to Miyaza­ki, named his daugh­ter Nau­si­caa. For Jean Giraud, inspi­ra­tion was­n’t a one-way street; it was more like a Möbius strip.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Watch Ground­break­ing Com­ic Artist Mœbius Draw His Char­ac­ters in Real Time

Mœbius & Jodorowsky’s Sci-Fi Mas­ter­piece The Incal Brought to Life in a Tan­ta­liz­ing Ani­ma­tion

The Long Tomor­row: Dis­cov­er Mœbius’ Hard-Boiled Detec­tive Com­ic That Inspired Blade Run­ner (1975)

Watch Moe­bius and Miyaza­ki, Two of the Most Imag­i­na­tive Artists, in Con­ver­sa­tion (2004)

Moe­bius Gives 18 Wis­dom-Filled Tips to Aspir­ing Artists

The Dis­ney Artist Who Devel­oped Don­ald Duck & Remained Anony­mous for Years, Despite Being “the Most Pop­u­lar and Wide­ly Read Artist-Writer in the World”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Superman vs. the KKK: Hear the 1946 Superman Radio Show That Weakened the Klan

Years ago, back in 2016, we fea­tured a 1950 Super­man poster that urged stu­dents to defend the Amer­i­can way and fight dis­crim­i­na­tion every­where. Today, we present anoth­er chap­ter from Super­man’s lit­tle-known his­to­ry as a Civ­il Rights defend­er.

The year is 1946. World War II has come to an end. And now mem­ber­ship in the Ku Klux Klan starts to rise again. Enter Stet­son Kennedy, a human rights activist, who man­ages to infil­trate the KKK and then fig­ures out an inge­nious way to take them down. He con­tacts the pro­duc­ers of the pop­u­lar Adven­tures of Super­man radio show, and pitch­es them on a new sto­ry­line: Super­man meets and defeats the KKK. Need­ing a new ene­my to van­quish, the pro­duc­ers green­light the idea.

The 16-episode series, “The Clan of the Fiery Cross,” aired in June 1946 and effec­tive­ly chipped away at the Klan’s mys­tique, grad­u­al­ly reveal­ing their secret code­words and rit­u­als. Lis­ten to the episodes above. And take heart in know­ing this: Accord­ing to Stephen J. Dub­n­er and Steven Levitt, the authors of Freako­nom­icsThe Clan of the Fiery Cross was “the great­est sin­gle con­trib­u­tor to the weak­en­ing of the Ku Klux Klan.” Mocked and triv­i­al­ized, the Klan’s num­bers went back into decline.

For more infor­ma­tion on this chap­ter in super­hero his­to­ry, read the well-reviewed YA book, Super­man Ver­sus the Ku Klux Klan: The True Sto­ry of How the Icon­ic Super­hero Bat­tled the Men of Hate. Also find more infor­ma­tion on these episodes at the Super­man Home­page.

To hear more orig­i­nal Super­man radio shows, head over to Archive.org.

Note: There is a lit­tle bit of a con­tro­ver­sy about the exact role Stet­son Kennedy played in infil­trat­ing the Klan. You can read up on that here.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Orig­i­nal 1940s Super­man Car­toon: Watch 17 Clas­sic Episodes Free Online

1950 Super­man Poster Urged Kids to Defend All Amer­i­cans, Regard­less of Their Race, Reli­gion or Nation­al Ori­gin

Read Mar­tin Luther King and The Mont­gomery Sto­ry: The Influ­en­tial 1957 Civ­il Rights Com­ic Book

75 Years of Super­man in 2 Min­utes

Nine Clas­sic Super­man Car­toons Restored and Now on YouTube

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