"Front view, true believers!" : NPR

"Stan Lee" was a pseudonym. Which is to say: an alter ego. Larger than life character whose secret identity was that of the writer Stanley Martin Lieber.

The original story of Stan Lee is devoid of the cataclysmic and upsetting trauma suffered by the many heroic characters that he co-created. But it's just as relevant because it's characterized by the kind of disappointed hopes and frustrated dreams that many of us live. Lieber dreamed of becoming a novelist, but as a desk-mate he had worked as an office worker at Timely Comics, owned by his cousin's husband. At 18, he was hired as a publisher. And this is essentially the following: the work was demanding, but he clung to the belief that he would one day find the time to become Stanley Lieber, great American novelist, author of short stories, novels, essays and passionate plays. To keep this possibility alive, he decided to produce his comic book works under the name of Stan Lee.

These novels? They never arrived. Stanley Lieber never found the time to write them because Stan Lee had become too busy. The characters and stories that he created instead – with a lot from the help of artists and co-authors such as Steve Ditko, Jack Kirby and others – have infiltrated the cultural ether, the very semiotic air we breathe all . Around the planet, they are not simply recognized, they are embraced, imitated, debated. Especially this last thing.

It would be easy to describe Stan Lee as a superhero (a word to read in Lee's punchy Brooklynese: "SOO-puh-HEE-row!"). There is this sweet story, originally calm and desperate, for one thing. Plus, he was a much more complicated character than even his most nuanced superhero creations. But you can not say that the guy did not come with a distinctive look, and a set of skills and abilities that set him apart.

So, if it's not a superhero, then certainly something apparent. Consider:

first name: Stan Lee

Secret identity: Stanley Lieber

Role: Co-creator of a world of ideas, worlds and heroes (strangely pugnacious) vast, complex and strangely fractional.

Suit: Aviator sunglasses, leisure suit, gold chains, salt and pepper favorites, mustache (Note: this is its 1970s version, the most iconic).

Signature sentences: "Excelsior!" "Face to face, true believers!" "Nuff said!"

Skills and Abilities:

1. Mythologize

Stan Lee, in most cases, had the bold features. He would invite an artist into his office and start playing the story, throwing his body through the action. He would leave them to design costumes, backgrounds and panel cutouts. When they would have finished, he would look at what they had drawn (which, if the artist was Kirby or Ditko, was often very different from the shot Lee had provided) and completed the dialogue.

He urged them to become bigger in each group. Why do the characters speak when they can scream? Frown when they might cry? Argue when they could fight? No story, no page, no sign would be wasted on the inessential, mundane. He told his artists to infuse stories of great emotions, metaphors the size of giants capable of eating planets. The competitors of Timely / Marvel at DC Comics had of course their own superheroes, but they were used to sitting around a conference table and cooperating with each other. As a result, their stories seemed sober, tidy. Small.

Stan Lee makes comics of superheroes large.

2. marketing

But Lee has always been a corporate man – a senior executive. Of course, he often asked his bosses to raise artists' fees, but when the time came to fire them, he conscientiously embodied the hatchet man.

His real talents – the secret of his incredible success – were closely related to the businessman's understanding of what his audience wanted. In 1961, he noticed that young children to whom cartoons were traditionally destined were now teenagers, even young adults. The superheroes of the 1940s had launched an appeal to their hopes and their whims of the child: fly! to be the strongest! to be the smartest! – But they were tropes, not conflicts. do not stories.

He knew that superhero comic book readers wanted – they needed – to see themselves in their pages, and if these readers were now teenagers, it meant that superheroes now had to think: shine – teenage emotions. In place of joy, anger, sadness (the emotions of the primary schoolyard), he has imbued his heroes with anguish, jealousy, depression, feelings of unhappiness. Inadequacy (the emotions of the school canteen and gymnasium).

They bickered. They cried. They felt guilty. They fought giant cosmic battles while fearing to pay their rent.

As a result, they became a sensation.

Just like Marvel Comics, under the direction of Lee. Untiring marketing, he knew how to turn this new approach to superhero narration into something more than a narrative style – he made it a mark.

3. Elegance

He did it by placing himself – or at least, by picking up his own smiling face – at the top of editorials and columns of letters in comics, and cultivating a refined prose filled with cornball brio , catchy slogans, a penchant for Marvel Marvel employees ("Sparkling Solly Brodsky! Jolly Ol!" Jack Kirby! ") and a wry eyeball from DC Comics he named "Brand Ecch").

The net effect is not simply to make the reader love himself and the Marvel comics, but to induce a kind of papal schism from the publication of comics. Suddenly, there were fans of DC (booooo!), And there were members of the Merry Marvel Marching Society, who came together under the banner "Make Mine Marvel".

It inspired readers to want to be part of Marvel Comics' exciting and tight-knit world and helped accelerate a process already underway: the transformation of separate readers into a connected network of enthusiasts, fans and fandom.

In addition, he looked great doing it: leisure clothing, chains, mustache, shades, tan California. The guy bewitched in his celebrity, and makes sure we know it.

4. Self-mythology

It is the least surprising thing in the world that the men who have given the world so many modern myths indulge in a penchant for self-mythologizing their respective roles in creating these myths.

Lee, as a Marvel executive, was well paid for his job – he assured himself. But artists / co-producers like Kirby, Ditko and others were mostly freelancers who had been denied fair monetary compensation for their contributions. In the absence of this compensation, or the ability to retain the rights of the characters, comic creators appreciate the concept of inheritance. But for the world to recognize their roles, it must be given merit, something that Marvel and DC have been reluctant to share.

Lee's story with credit sharing was uneven. He would exaggerate, then, when challenged (often by Kirby), he would show contrition and correct the record. Yet his public reputation – cemented by his frequent appearances in the Marvel-movie cameos – is that of a man who has created a comic book universe by himself.

He does not have it. But having helped to bring him to birth, he took on a role that his co-creators were fleeing. He became his indefatigable salesman, his cheerleader, his pusher, his benevolent king.

We're probably not going to get any more Stan Lee cameos after next year, and it's terribly sad for those of us who are true believers that just seeing this guy could spark a nostalgic smile. It was complicated, that smile – it's a surge of tenderness for the man himself, and for the children we were, when we read one of his Bullpen bulletins and heard his voice – this Noof Yawk, a hipster swinger who plays the voice performance – inviting us into a world that he helped create, but which belonged to us.

We will hear this voice forever, drawing attention to us with its omnipresent exclamation points:

Face to face, true believers!

Excelsior!