Tarzan #207 (April, 1972)

I’m not sure if it would have been possible for an American kid of my generation to grow up not knowing who Tarzan was.  Even if you never once heard the name “Edgar Rice Burroughs”, you’d inevitably learn to recognize that author’s most famous hero by sight, as his loincloth-clad form swung by on a vine — or by sound, per his distinctive, (literally) trademarked yell.

Your humble blogger was no exception in this regard.  Still, I may have been in a minority among my peers in at least one Tarzan-related area: I never saw a single Tarzan movie in my formative years, despite their showing up regularly on television.  How come?  I’m not 100% sure, but I figure it was probably because of my dad. 

Not that Dad didn’t like Tarzan — far from it.  He just happened to like the real Tarzan — the one that Burroughs wrote about, who was the sophisticated British Lord Greystoke as well as the savage and lethal lord of the jungle; who was as fluent in French as he was in the King’s English (even if his first language was Great Ape).  None of that “me Tarzan, you Jane” stuff had anything to do with the real Ape-Man, as far as my father was concerned.  And while Dad wasn’t quite old enough to have been part of the first generation of Tarzan readers — he was born in 1915, while Tarzan had first come into the world in 1912 — he’d been acquainted with the character for long enough that I figured the man knew what he was talking about.

So I never saw a Tarzan movie (though I believe I did catch at least a few episodes of the Ron Ely TV series that ran on NBC on Friday nights 1966-1968; if I recall correctly, Dad was OK with how Tarzan talked in that version, but was irked by the absence of Jane, as well as the inclusion of a young sidekick named Jai who wasn’t in Burroughs’ stories).  And I also consistently ignored the Edgar Rice Burroughs Tarzan of the Apes comic books from Western Publishing (aka Gold Key), although I’m sure I saw them regularly on the stands.  Assuming that my fourteen-year-old self even happened to catch a glimpse of the final Gold Key issue, #206, when it showed up in my favorite spinner rack in December, 1971, I doubt it made any more impression on me than did that month’s issue of Career Girl Romances.  (Which frankly seems a bit of a shame to my sixty-four-year-old self, who thinks that Tarzan #206’s painted cover by George Wilson is actually pretty cool.)

But the next issue of Tarzan proved to be a different story.  Because it wasn’t just the 207th issue of Tarzan; it was the first DC Comics issue.  And DC went all out to make sure that their regular readers of the time, such as your humble blogger, understood that this was a really big deal., using such means as the house ad below:

In this ad, the clearest indication of a break with the new Tarzan‘s immediate predecessors was the cover of issue #207 itself.  The simple fact that it was drawn, rather than painted, was perhaps the most obvious difference.  But then there was also the “new” logo (actually an adaptation of the logo of the “Tarzan” newspaper comic strip, as originally designed in 1931) which replaced Gold Key’s rather staid block lettering.  Also, compared to Tarzan #206, issue #207’s cover bore a minimal amount of text — though one of the few pieces of non-essential copy it did include, the seal proclaiming this to be the “1st DC Issue”, cleverly appealed to more serious comics fans and collectors (who were known to place a special value on “number ones”), without dispensing with the conventional wisdom within the newsstand distribution business, which was that higher periodical issue numbers were preferable to lower ones.

But the ad’s own copy was attention-grabbing as well, in that it emphasized the name of the main creator involved with the project — giving “kubert” pride of place even before “tarzan“.  While Joe Kubert may noy have been the very first artist-writer whose perceived star power DC used to promote a comic-book series — the company had been using Jack Kirby’s name in ads ever since his leaving its main rival, Marvel, in 1970 — it was still a highly unusual sales tactic for American comics in 1972.  And my younger self was duly impressed, despite the fact that I knew Kubert almost entirely by reputation at this point in my comics-reading career.  That was because I hadn’t started reading comic books until 1965, and almost all of the veteran professional’s work in the past seven years — whether as artist, writer, or editor — had been for DC’s line of war comics.  And since I didn’t read war comics, it followed that outside of a few covers (such as the two shown at left and right), Kubert’s output was almost entirely unrepresented in my collection — unless of course you want to count his artwork that ran in DC’s house ads for those war comics I never bought.

Still, I did know his reputation.  And that — along with the undeniable raw power of that cover image — was enough to convince me to lay down a quarter for the privilege of finding out whether DC’s take on Tarzan might just be one that even my dad would recognize as the Real Deal.

Several reasons have been advanced for why Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. opted in 1971 to withdraw the comic-book license for Tarzan (and Burroughs’ other characters) from Western, who’d been involved with the properties since 1947; but the main impetus seems to have been the relatively small publisher’s disinterest in stepping up its production of new material.  Gold Key was putting out just eight issues of Tarzan a year, along with six of Korak (featuring the adventures of Tarzan’s son), and no comics at all starring any of Burroughs’ other creations, such as John Carter of Mars.  That wasn’t nearly enough to meet the apparently insatiable demand for more Burroughs material from the foreign market, some of whose publishers were producing their own strips in a “Gold Key” style (which seems to have essentially meant imitating the work of artist Russ Manning).  For a brief while, ERB, Inc. pursued the idea of becoming its own publisher, but soon ran into obstacles involving distribution; ultimately, then, they once again resorted to licensing their properties out to another company, this time to DC Comics.

According to Bill Schelly’s Man of Rock: A Biography of Joe Kubert (Fantagraphics Books, 2008), the business relationship between DC and ERB, Inc. began with a chance meeting in Europe between Carmine Infantino, then DC’s publisher, and ERB, Inc. vice-president Robert Hodes — which is just the kind of historic detail to make you wonder how things might have turned out if such a meeting hadn’t occurred.  Would the Burroughs license have gone to Marvel some five years earlier than it ultimately did?  Or would it have ended up somewhere less likely, such as Archie?*  We’ll never know, of course — and that’s probably for the best, considering how perfectly suited for each other Joe Kubert and Tarzan turned out to be.

Self-portrait of the artist in the company of some of his best known subjects, as drawn by Joe Kubert for the cover of Bill Schelly’s Man of Rock (Fantagraphics, 2008).

Infantino doesn’t appear to have ever considered anyone but his longtime friend and colleague — who, like himself, had made the transition from being “only” a freelance artist into a management role relatively recently — for the job of shepherding the Tarzan property at DC Comics.  As Kubert himself related in his introduction to Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan: The Joe Kubert Years (Dark Horse Books, 2005):

One bright, sunny day, Carmine called me into his office.  “Joe,” he said with a broad smile, “how would you like to do Tarzan?”  Carmine and I had known each other since we started in this business. If anyone knew of my love for Burroughs’ Tarzan, he did.


I jumped at it.


Here was an opportunity for me to connect again with the joys of my childhood.  To infuse myself into the world of Tarzan, the Ape-Man, and to write and draw the character that had been an inspiration to me.

Early Tarzan sketch by Joe Kubert, dated  September, 1971.

Kubert had read and enjoyed Burroughs’ fiction in his youth, although his actual introduction to the character of Tarzan had been through Hal Foster’s work on the newspaper comic strip; the latter ultimately became one of his primary inspirations for becoming a professional cartoonist, as well as a major artistic influence.  He immediately and enthusiastically threw himself into preparation for this dream project:

First, I re-read all the Tarzan novels. This was step one in re-acquainting myself with the origin. Then, I studied Foster’s work, some of which I had never seen before… My intent in doing Tarzan was to inject the excitement and immediacy that I felt when I read Tarzan for the very first time…

Kubert decided to begin his chronicling of the jungle lord’s adventures with an adaptation of Burroughs’ first Tarzan novel.  This was hardly the first time this work had been adapted into comics; Foster’s newspaper strip version (scripted by R.W. Palmer) had first appeared in 1928, and Gold Key had delivered a comic-book take in 1965.  But Gold Key had granted writer Gaylord DuBois and artist Russ Manning only a single issue (Tarzan #155) to tell the full story of Burroughs’ novel, and at 24 pages, significant abridgement was inevitable.  DC’s version, by contrast, would have plenty of room to breathe, as editor-writer-artist Kubert chose to devote the first four issues of his run to the tale of Tarzan’s origins.

For my fourteen-year-old self — who’d never read a single Tarzan comic book or newspaper strip in his life prior to February, 1972, let alone a comics recounting of the hero’s origin story — it was an especially fortuitous choice.

Kubert’s adaptation of Burroughs’ novel actually begins with a scene not found in Burroughs’ novel:

As an artist, Kubert is relatively spare in the linework he utilizes to delineate the lush vegetation and abundant animal life of this “unexplored African jungle”; nevertheless, his economical approach is remarkably effective in conveying the beauty, immensity, and, ultimately, the dangerous wildness of the setting.

Burroughs’ narrative in his 1912 novel begins before Tarzan is born; Kubert’s addition of an original framing sequence allows him to showcase the Ape-Man in action “here and now”.  And since this is the only time we’ll see the adult Tarzan in the first DC issue of the series that bears his name, that’s probably a wise choice.

Here, midway through the story’s fifth page, Kubert’s graphic adaptation of Burroughs’ prose tale at last properly begins…

The mutineers quickly overwhelm the ship’s outnumbered officers; but when one of the sailors moves towards the Claytons with similarly murderous intent, their leader unceremoniously shoots him dead.  “These two are my friends!” Black Michael declares.

But Lord and Lady Greystoke soon learn that their benefactor’s “friendship” extends only so far…

Kubert’s study of Hal Foster’s take on Tarzan of the Apes extended beyond mere inspiration, to the actual incorporation of some of his predecessor’s compositions into his own drawings — what some might call “swipes”.  For example, the last panel of page 9, shown above, is clearly derived from the Foster illustration shown at left.

Of course, this sort of thing was altogether invisible to my Tarzan-newbie self in 1972, but more savvy fans picked up on it — and some, at least, were less than happy about the practice.  One such was Randy Nesseler, whose complaint would appear in the letters column of Tarzan #212 (Sep., 1972): “You’re okay with art, Joe, and that’s why it’s sad to see you flagrantly attempting to duplicate Hal Foster’s characters.  Why not use your own concepts?”  To which the creator-editor would succinctly reply: “…Foster’s character delineations were closer to their true essence than anything I could imagine.”  Since he felt he couldn’t improve on what his artistic idol had already produced — and since DC’s license from ERB, Inc. evidently included the rights to reprint and otherwise reuse previously published Tarzan comics material however they wished — Kubert had no compunctions about integrating Foster’s vision with his own.

As noted by Bill Schelly in The Art of Joe Kubert (Fantagraphics Books, 2011), one thing that helps elevate Kubert’s “integrations” beyond mere swipes is his utilization of the full range of design and layout options afforded by the comic book page to achieve dramatic effects not available to Foster, who worked within a rigidly defined framework of five uniformly-sized rectangular panels to produce his pictorial version of the novel.  In regards to the example we’ve shared above, Schelly writes:

In the sequence depicting the stranded Greystokes forlornly watching the ship that has brought them to the coast of Africa sail away, Kubert surrounds them with a great deal more space, emphasizing that they are alone and dwarfed by the untamed environment.

We’ll take a look at another Kubert-Foster “integration”, later in this issue.

Within two months, John Clayton has built a sturdy cabin.  But that alone won’t be sufficient to keep him and Alice safe, as they both learn one day when John, working outside, is surprised by a large ape who suddenly emerges from the surrounding jungle…

Over the next twelve months, John manages to keep his family safe, though he occasionally has to use his rifle to frighten away small bands of great apes…

Kala’s infant child is killed by the great fall; but Kerchak, once his rage has subsided, thinks of a way to make things right.  He leads his tribe — including Kala, still clutching her dead child — towards “the strange white-ape’s lair…”

Kubert tells us of Lord Greystoke’s death, rather than shows us; a storytelling choice made in deference to the Comics Code Authority, perhaps.

As time passes, Tarzan learns how to make a rope by tying long grasses together — a skill that will come in quite handy in the years to come, though at this point he mainly uses it to torment his elders by dropping nooses over their heads…

Tarzan ignores the three skeletons he finds in the cabin, such sights being not unfamiliar to him; instead, his curiosity draws him towards the books on his parents’ shelves…

The final panel of page 24 is another example of Kubert’s using a Hal Foster composition as the basis for his own drawing.  Unlike the previous instance, this one doesn’t significantly modify the scale of the original by framing the picture’s elements within a greater amount of open space; nevertheless, by setting the image in a panel that’s larger than any of the others on the page, Kubert is able to emphasize the scene’s inherent drama in a way that Foster, restricted by his daily five-panel format, could not.  In addition, Kubert’s figures have an energy and sense of movement that Foster’s don’t quite match.

But to return to our story… Finally, the gorilla succumbs to his many wounds and falls to the earth, dead.  The wounded Tarzan almost immediately follows his foe into unconsciousness, his own survival uncertain.  But Kala has heard the screams of battle, and realizing that her son is not with her, she races off in the direction of the sounds, the rest of the great ape tribe following close behind her — until, at last, they reach the clearing where stands the Claytons’ cabin…

Thus ends the first chapter of Joe Kubert’s adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan of the Apes.  My fourteen-year-old self would definitely be back for more, “on or about Mar. 30th”, 1972; I’d been thoroughly hooked by Burroughs’ propulsive narrative, as well as impressed by the rugged elegance of Kubert’s art.

Tarzan #207 came out in the waning months of DC’s 25-cent 48-page format; so, even though we already have a 26-page story behind us, there’s considerably more content to come.

First up is the first installment of what would become the title’s letter column, “The Dum-Dum”:

Since it was obviously too early to have received any letters from readers, this first “Dum Dum” presented a biography of Edgar Rice Burroughs.  Not knowing a thing about the man other than his authorship of Tarzan, my younger self found this pretty interesting.  I was especially surprised to learn that his first book hadn’t been about the Ape Man at all, but rather about Mars; to the best of my recollection, I had little to no awareness of Burroughs’ John Carter stories at this point.  (I was on the very verge of learning quite a bit more about them, of course, but I didn’t know that yet.)

Also worth noting, this piece was bylined “Marvin Wolfman”; its appearance signaled the recent return of the 25-year-old Wolfman to the comics industry in a full-time capacity, following a brief stint as a junior high school teacher.  Marv Wolfman would serve as an assistant to both Joe Kubert and another DC editor, Joe Orlando, for several months before downsizing would send him looking for a new position elsewhere (but that’s another story).

Following this text page came the only reprint material to appear in Tarzan #207:

Actually, this three-page feature may not be completely reprint, as the text has been expanded from the original script (generally attributed to George A. Carlin) that appeared in Foster’s December 27, 1931 newspaper strip (which can be viewed in its complete original form here); the panel order has been somewhat rearranged, as well.  Did Kubert, or perhaps Wolfman, make the additions and alterations, or was there some intermediate publication (with attendant editing) between 1931 and 1972?  Your guess is as good as mine.  In any event, its inclusion in this issue provides a poignant complement to the tragic tale of Lord and Lady Greystoke.

The final feature in Tarzan #207 was all-new, at least as far as the comics side went; it was, of course, the first chapter in DC’s adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ very first novel, A Princess of Mars (1912):

This wasn’t John Carter’s first appearance in comics format, any more than Tarzan #207’s lead story was the sequential art debut of Burroughs’ better known hero.  From 1941 to 1943 Carter had actually held down his very own newspaper strip, drawn by his creator’s son, John Coleman Burroughs.  Later, a comic-book version had been produced by Western Publishing; written by Paul S. Newman and drawn by Jesse Marsh, it had been originally published by Dell Comics in 1952, then reprinted by Gold Key in 1964.  Nevertheless, it had been a while, with no English-language comics take on Burroughs’ “Barsoom” stories having appeared since I’d started buying funnybooks in 1965.

The only credit given for the story (not including Burroughs’) is that for artist Murphy Anderson, who signed the first page.  Most resources credit Marv Wolfman for the script, although the Grand Comics Database indicates that Kubert had a hand in it as well.

Known for his meticulous rendering style, Anderson had done very little pencilling for DC in the last several years, the company keeping him busy instead with inking assignments (primarily over Curt Swan’s pencils in Superman and Action ).  He seems to have relished the opportunity provided by this assignment to remind fans what he could do, as exemplified by the gorgeous (but also somewhat gratuitous) vista of the American West presented in the panel above — a landscape that the story is about to abandon for good, just one page from now.

Burroughs’ novel had identified Carter as a Civil War veteran, who’d served as a captain in the Confederate army; while the script of this adaptation doesn’t address the topic, Carter’s all-gray wardrobe may have been intended to provide a subtle visual acknowledgement of this aspect of the character.

Spying a dome-like structure in the distance — a sure sign of intelligent life — Carter heads in its direction; in doing so, he discovers that he is considerably stronger in Mars’ lower gravity, able to cross thirty feet in a single leap.

Realizing that he has no real reason to fight these guys, Carter swiftly changes tactics, telling the Martians that he’s just arrived from another world.  While they obviously can’t understand his tongue, they don’t immediately take further hostile action against him; is it possible that they can read his thoughts?

In just eight pages, this first episode of DC’s “John Carter of Mars” covers a lot of ground (I suppose you could say that it takes after its protagonist in that regard) — and it was certainly enough to pique the interest of my fourteen-year-old self, who, as I’ve indicated, hadn’t known the difference between Barsoom and a bassoon prior to picking up this comic book.

Coming to the end of the issue, I was also impressed by the overall generosity of the package; out of Tarzan #207’s 35 content pages, only three featured reprinted material, in contrast to the 10-13 pages of reprints typical to most DC books during this era.  I don’t know if Joe Kubert had received extra funding in his editorial budget for the first few issues of Tarzan (#208 and #209 would have a similar proportional breakdown of new-to-old content as had #207), or if he just absorbed the additional cost (which, as the title’s primary writer and artist as well as its editor, he probably could have), but it’s worth noting, in any event.

There’s actually one page of content left in this comic following the conclusion of the first chapter of “John Carter” — a one-page preview of the next chapter, which, somewhat surprisingly (considering how early it is in the serial), will be illustrated by Gray Morrow, rather than Murphy Anderson:

I don’t recall that my fourteen-year-old self was at all dismayed by the prospect of Morrow stepping in for Anderson — but anyone who might have felt that way would surely have been mollified to learn that the latter artist, an avowed Burroughs fan, would return for Tarzan #209, and then continue on for the next three installments of the feature as well.  Of course, by that time, John Carter would be moving on to a new home in DC’s brand-new third Edgar Rice Burroughs title, Weird Worlds… though any further discussion of that particular venture will necessarily have to wait until after we’ve had a look at DC’s second Burroughs title, Korak, Son of Tarzan.  Our consideration of Korak #46 will in fact be coming up in just a few weeks; I hope you’ll join me then.


Cover to Charlton’s Jungle Tales of Tarzan #2 (Feb., 1965). Art by Sam Glanzman.

*The one American comic book company the license definitely would not have gone to in 1971-72 is Charlton Comics, as that Derby, CT-based outfit had previously published four completely unauthorized issues of Jungle Tales of Tarzan in the mid-’60s — allegedly due to their misguided belief that the material had fallen into public domain — before being legally ordered to cease and desist.  Oops.


  1. Joseph Conteky · February 26, 2022

    Great write-up as usual Alan. It sounds like we had a very similar journey towards getting this issue. I had never bought a Gold Key Tarzan comic either, my exposure to the character was limited to the Ron Ely TV show, and as someone who didn’t buy a lot of DC War comics I wasn’t very familiar with Joie Kubert’s art. I don’t remember picking this issue up from the newstand but I do remember reading it for the first time and it made quite an impression on me thanks to the top quality writing and art, and the back up Jon Carter strip with Murphy Anderson art didn’t hurt either. I do wonder why I chose to buy this issue and suspect the growth in sword and sorcery in comics was a factor .I’d read a few issues of Conan and Kull by this time and had began to realise there was more to comics than contemporary big city based costumed super heroes continually fighting a well established rogues gallery of bad guys. Although I have to admit these are still my favourite 50 years later.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Alan Stewart · February 26, 2022

      “Although I have to admit these are still my favourite 50 years later.” Yeah, me too, Joseph! 🙂 Thanks for your comments.


  2. DontheArtistformerlyknownasfrodo628 · February 26, 2022

    I have a long personal history with Tarzan and the creations of Edgar Rice Burroughs. As a kid, addicted to TV as I was, I watched all of the old Tarzan movies that played on Jackson TV stations every Saturday and Sunday. I even met Johnny Weismuller, the former Olympic swimmer who, while not the only actor to play the Ape Man in those early films, was certainly the most well-known, having also appeared in another similarly themed show called Jungle Jim. He was on some sort of promo jaunt and came to my local TG&Y store and I talked my mom into taking me to meet him. The first thing that struck my six year old self was how old he was. It never occurred to me that the Tarzan movies had been made years earlier and that in the interim, the actors in those shows would age like everyone else. Still, I remember him being very kind and taking the time to talk for a moment with every kid who came looking for an autograph. I was my first experience meeting any kind of celebrity and it was a good one.

    I also remember the Ron Ely TV Tarzan (he also played Doc Savage in a really bad movie adaptation), but only barely. Mainly, I remember the movies…the Bo Derek disaster, Lord Greystoke with Christopher Lambert, the more recent effort with Alexander Skarsgaard…I’m sure there were many more. But strangely, it took me forever to read the books and I don’t think I ever read the comics, which is a shame because this first issue from Kubert and DC is really excellent. The art is lush and beautiful and even when deriviative, it takes the original Hal Foster illo and builds on it, turning it into something more and something archetypically Kubert. I wouldn’t have had a problem with the “swipes” fifty years ago and I certainly don’t now. And to find out that there was a John Carter story in the back…a character I didn’t come to know until the late seventies…that’s just the icing on the cake, and it too, is very well done.

    Of course by now, we all know about the Great White Savior trope and the casual racism of the John Carter stories, where Barsoom’s various denizens were segrated off into their own separate cities and cultures and recent film versions of both Tarzan and JC have been misguided and without the heart of the original characters and stories, but this comic is really special and I’m going to have to go find some back issues to read very soon.

    Thanks, Alan, for a very pleasant surprise.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Joe Gill · February 26, 2022

    That Tarzan yell link you included? Made my day thank you so much!!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Chris A. · February 26, 2022

    I own Kubert’s first five Tarzan issues as well as the two oversized Limited Collector’s Editions. Great stuff!


  5. Marcus · February 26, 2022

    Like you Alan, I got this issue when it came out, hadn’t seen any of the movies, saw some episodes of the TV series and never bought any of the Gold Key issues. I hadn’t read any of the books yet, though I had read ERB’s Carson of Venus and some of the John Carter books. I soon got the first dozen or so Tarzan books and then bought them again and the rest when they were released with the black covers with Neal Adams doing the covers for the first six or so and Boris Vallejo the rest. Still have the 1978 Boris Tarzan calendar.
    Like you, I knew of, but was not really familiar with, Kubert because I wasn’t following any War books and though I very much enjoyed his work here, it didn’t make me want to check out any of his other work.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. B Smith · February 27, 2022

    I know the art credit for the John Carter story is Murphy Anderson’s but I would be willing to bet that he might have had a hand from Rich Buckler. That figure of Carter standing over his own body looks like a dead ringer for a later splash page Buckler did a couple of years later in an issue of Fantastic Four. Also, several of the body poses bear Buckleresque touches in position and muscle definition…has me wondering whether Anderson didn’t get some assistance from RB (who, according to Wikipedia, was doing art chores on other DC titles at the time).

    I could be completely wrong on this, of course…but continue to enjoy your analyses of these ancient volumes – more power to your keyboard!

    Liked by 1 person

    • mkelligrew · February 27, 2022

      It’s more likely that Buckler swiped these poses for his later stories from Anderson. Rich was famous or infamous for his swiping.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. bluesislove · February 27, 2022

    I had read a few of the Gold Key Tarzans and had seen some of the later movies (with Mike Henry). My dad was a fan and had seen the Weissmuller movies when he was a kid.

    However, I fell in love with the character thanks to Kubert’s version. I bought and read every issue of the series as long as Kubert was editor. I also had my first exposure to so many of the other ERB characters….Barsoom, Pellucidar, Venus, and Beyond the Farthest Star. That led me to ERB’s books.

    This issue led me to so much more adventure and entertainment than I ever would have imagined. Kubert became one of my favorite artists and creators. Looking at these panels brought back such great memories.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. frednotfaith2 · February 27, 2022

    Kubert’s art on this issue is magnificent. This is one of those series that I never picked up although my brother Terry did — he was a bit of a Tarzan fanatic when we were kids, circa 9 to 14 or so (we were less than a year apart in age). Me, not so much. By about age 9, I became fascinated with natural history and animals, and while I never became a vegetarian, I became sickened at the notion of killing animals for sport and trophies. As such, stories that showed a character somehow routinely getting into struggles with wild animals and killing them bothered me, even if the character was acting in self-defense or in defense of someone else. Yep, entirely justified, but not entertaining to me. Similarly, I’ll admit I enjoyed watching old horror movies and into the late ’70s, I watched some of the then more modern, much gorier horror films, such as Halloween, Friday the 13th, etc, aka the slasher flicks. At some point in the ’80s, the gore fest became more than I wanted to partake in anymore, although I still like those that aren’t too cliched and are more satirical in nature, such as Sean of the Dead. Bits of my weird nature in what I find entertaining.
    Still, I did get a few issues of John Buscema’s take on Tarzan when the license switched to Marvel, as well as several of John Carter, Warlord from Mars. Comparing Buscema’s Tarzan to Kubert’s, it strikes me that although they have very distinct styles, they seem to almost merge when depicting the Lord of the Apes and his domain — maybe simply because they were both taking a lot of inspiration from Hal Foster’s version.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Pingback: Korak, Son of Tarzan #46 (May-Jun., 1972) | Attack of the 50 Year Old Comic Books
  10. Pingback: Korak, Son of Tarzan #46 (May-Jun., 1972) – ColorMag
  11. sportinggeek157875814 · April 17, 2022

    Does anyone know why Kubert did three mid-1960s Detective Comics ‘Go-Go checks’ covers in a row? Alan shows the middle one, #349 with Blockbuster, and Joe did #348 to 350. As you point out, Alan, mid-1960s he almost exclusively did war comics. A gap in his schedule, perhaps?

    Liked by 2 people

  12. DAVID MACDONALD-BALL · August 23

    Inspired by this post, I pre-ordered “Tarzan: The Buscema Years” from Amazon and looked forward to the publication / release date of 23/8/22. Imagine then my disappointment to receive an e-mail from Amazon on 22/8/22 informing me that the publisher had delayed the book until… 11th August 2023!
    A bit of on-line digging suggests that this is not the first time that this book has been scheduled for publication and fans have ended up disappointed; apparently, it was first mooted around 2016.
    I wonder if anybody else has found themselves similarly late down regarding Tarzan or, indeed, other proposed collection releases?


    • Alan Stewart · August 23

      Bummer! I can’t recall having had a similar experience personally, but it doesn’t seem all that uncommon, just from what I’ve read.


  13. Pingback: Phantom Stranger #23 (Jan.-Feb., 1973) | Attack of the 50 Year Old Comic Books
  14. Pingback: Tomb of Dracula #7 (March, 1973) | Attack of the 50 Year Old Comic Books
  15. John Minehan · March 25

    ERB, Inc. caused a paperback boom in the period around 1963-1965 by finally licensing the non-Tarzan Burroughs novels to Ace and Balentine (the “Edgar Rice Burroughs Boom” http://www.castaliahouse.com/donald-a-wollheim-publisher-of-appendix-n/) with covers by people like Frazetta and Roy G. Krenkle. (Lancer publishing the Conan stories with Frazetta was an attmpt to compete with this0.

    You wouldhave thought ERB, Inc. would have jumped hard into comics in this period. DC wouldhave been well suited for this, given that the Adam Strange strip was a type of “interplaitary romance.” especially in its Showcase tryout.

    Liked by 2 people

    • frednotfaith2 · March 25

      One of my brothers, just 10 months younger than me (I was the eldest of 3), really got into Tarzan in the ’70s, initially from the old movies and then the comics, Gold Key and DC, and later getting those novels. Of course, the biggest thing from the movies, which the comics and novels could not replicate, was that famous Tarzan yell. A lot of kids in the ’70s still loved that and tried to replicate it as best they could. Carol Burnette did a pretty good job of doing the yell on her show. It was like a signal to high adventure and derrings do.

      Liked by 1 person

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