Q: I also want to briefly cover the prices on comic art. Beyond a couple of acquisitions I made in the late ‘70’s, my time as a collector really started only 7 years ago. But in that time I’ve seen prices, which were already in my opinion ridiculous, move into the ludicrous. Looking at some of the covers you own, you’ve got a collection worth probably more than the U.S. debt. Is this all just becoming too expensive to be viable? How do you think the prohibitive prices are slowing down bringing new people into the hobby?
A: This is a tough one with many parts. When it comes to collectables, there can never be any sense of ridiculous. There are only the coupled issues of value and worth, which serve to level each other out over time, because in the case of intrinsic value, comic art is worth precisely nothing. I mean: so is a Rembrandt. There is only the value we assign to it, and the market assigns its worth. The question is a bit more related to parity, I guess, or maybe even communism. Does everyone get the same shot at owning a Kirby/Sinnott page from the FF? Nope. And they probably never did. Did a few people see the boom coming and capitalize on it? Sure. Lucky bastards. Is there inexpensive art out there for beginners to buy? Of course. Like collecting coins or just about anything else, a mature market creates bigger and bigger difference between the high end and the low end. The thing about original comic art is that it is, for the most part, immune to significant tomfoolery because (unlike coins and stamps) every page is one of a kind, and when things are out on the market, the community tends to know the location, so even if someone wanted to try it, I think it would be hard. I don’t know much, but is there any known case of forgery when it comes to a published comic art page? The validity of each item is a real benefit to the hobby.
I think life must be totally different (and fun) for the dealers who work out what I think are some majorly complicated deals. They find out that person X wants page Y, but the person who owns page Y wants page A that person B has, who wants… And then finally they make a six-degrees of separation connection and the dominoes fall with everybody getting what they want. This can only take place because of the differential values held by different people on the same thing.
While there can basically be no surprise deals in the Age of eBay, it also means that just about anything a person would really (really) want, it is probably possible to locate it.
Q: Now, before I get any deeper into specifics, this book will be about the stories of collectors, and the pursuit of their hobby, so relate any story you have about the acquisition of your art - any pages that you chased for long periods of time, anything you’re still chasing, anything that eluded you, instances where you bought a page from an artist - any stories surrounding it.
Back when Dave Sim was selling Cerebus pages for $200 each on the 1994 World Tour, I called him and asked if he would bring 3 pages for me: pp 6, 15, and 16 from issue 91. On page 6, Cerebus reflects on the problem with recalling your former life when you are reincarnated. The Big Round Glowing White Strange Thing notes that “There is nothing like a breast the size of your head to make you forget important stuff. You know?” Cerebus then imagines Red Sophia in his mind’s eye.
Ha.
And on pp 15-16, Cerebus nearly stomps off the edge of this large, stone, floating in space platform while he’s fighting with the BRGWST.
Cerebus (nearly stomping off the edge and barely recovering): “How does Cerebus get off of here?”
BRGWST: “You were almost there… just keep going.”
Ha. Ha.
Dave said he had all three and would bring them for me. On the Saturday before the convention he was attending, Dave was doing a signing at the suburban Detroit location of “Dave’s Comics.” I had Dave sign some books, and he said he’d have the pages at the convention on Sunday, just stop by.
Cool.
I was not interested in the convention, so I aimed for later in the day on Sunday to do the pick-up. When I got there, Dave had this really sheepish look on his face when he saw me. He had put the pages in with the others he was selling, and someone came along and scooped up the page with the breast joke before Dave recalled he was holding it for me.
One learns to count to ten in such circumstances.
He realized his error right away, but it was too late. He did pull and set aside the other two pages. But there was still a problem: Jim Ottaviani, nuclear engineer turned librarian, and UseNet interviewer of Dave Sim, saw the pages and wanted them both. I did not know it was Jim at the time. I was late, so Dave was sorta-kinda-agreeing to Jim’s proposal that he get one of the pages and I could get the other (if I showed up).
I won’t say I threw a tantrum, but I was pretty insistent that I should have both, and I was pretty much a prick about it. Ottaviani, as it turns out, is also employed at the University of Michigan, and it was years later that encounter Jim and his web site, where he wrote about this prick at the convention who would not cooperate on this business of the two Cerebus pages. We’ve since had a good laugh about it.
Anyhow, if whomever has that page with the breast joke ends up reading this interview, I still think it is mine, and I’m willing to pay for it (or send in the big guys who like to break kneecaps).
I’d also love to completely re-assemble two things: the first Sim/Ger color story from Epic (“Guttersnipe,” I talked about before), and the color “Interlude” that Matt Wagner did for Mage (see below).
And it just does not matter where you are in the food chain of art buyers: there are plenty of pages that I would like to have, and that come up for sale, that are simply beyond my reach because (a) they are too expensive and (b) I am unwilling to part with anything I have.
