If I’m able to editorialize a bit, it’s about time. When you think about the titans of the comics industry, even if you include writers, it’s hard to think of anyone whose impact inside comics matches Kirby, and it’s impossible to come up with a name that matches him outside comics.
Kirby was so creative that the comics page literally could not contain it. He wrote and drew the most popular books in the medium at a time when the art form was at its peak, the kind of work that fine art scholars went back and studied for years. The mixed media pages in his Fourth World books are staggering – hypnotic and disturbing, and clearly the product of someone who sees a whole different world when he looks at a blank sheet of Bristol board.
At the same time, there’s more to Kirby than just his contributions to the art world. The best biographies are always about something other than the subject. Kirby’s story is about a man with boundless creativity who defined an artistic medium, but it’s also the story of America’s shift to a global power and the development of the middle class.
Kirby was born dirt poor and drew his way out of poverty. He was so passionate about the ideals of his country that he co-created the avatar of what it could be at its best, and then lived that at both ends of his career, first as a scout in Europe in World War II, sneaking behind enemy lines and drawing recon maps; and later lending old concept art to the CIA to get Americans out of Iran during the hostage crisis. He created a whole mythology that reflected the best American ideals – standing up for people who need help, stories that were explicitly anti-fascist and anti-war – in a medium that was cheap and easy to share with the world, projecting those values to kids around the world.
At a time when we are retreating from our responsibilities and violating those ideals, a story like this is critical to show us the way back.