Giant-Size Werewolf #2 (1974)

I’m stuck in the ’70s once more. It seems I’m pretty comfortable in the "me" decade. Does that mean it’s all about me? Most of the comics I picked up the other day are from the ’70s, and I’ve enjoyed all of the ones I’ve read, even the trashy ones, despite or maybe because of their kind of weird ’70s vibe. I like the overwrought dialogue, traditional storytelling and panel arrangements, and the weirdly stereotyped characters.
Giant-Size Werewolf is a very nice above-average comic from that time, unline Claws of the Cat from yesterday, which was pretty much crap. This comic has the first ever battle, at least in comics, between the Werewolf (who is normal sized, despite the lie in the comic’s title) and Frankenstein’s Monster, who’s a bit big. Actually the size of Frankenstein’s monster always annoyed me, come to think of it. Is he was assembled from dead bodies buried in a cemetary, why would he be a giant? Wouldn’t he be as short as whoever’s legs were used? And wouldn’t one leg be longer than the other? I think it would be spooky to have a Frankenstein that really did look like a random assemblage of found body parts.
So this comic features Frankie, who finds himself in New York for reasons left unexplained. Once he’s in the Big Apple, though, he tries to make some friends:
Confused, the pathetic giant lurches from the shadows, raising his arm in a futile gesture of entreaty… but it fails to stop their mad flight… and this is ample grist for the giant’s poignant despair. For, had he not overheard their words and were they not filled with hope…? Hope that at last — here in this strange place called New York — after centuries of misery and rejection and torment, he had finally found two people who could look upon him and see beyond the hidden facade of his face…? Two people he might have called friends…? The giant sighs, and shambles forward… knowing it is not to be… knowing that he is ever destined to be… a monster.
Poor monster, he’s pathetically lonely so he tries to make pals with a couple of unemployed losers who hang out in New York alleyways late at night. Frankie really is pathetically sensitive. He wanders down to the docks and hears a couple of hobos talking about a doctor in Los Angeles who does miracle plastic surgery and thus decides to hop a train and go to LA to see if he can be made beautiful like Farrah Fawcett-Majors or someone. In LA, it turns out that this Doctor was a devil worshipper – guess it was in at the time – and.. well, shit, this is too goofy to continue. There actually are some elements of this story that are interesting, including some of the best Vince Colletta art of his career (which admittedly doesn’t mean much), but there’s also an awful lot of coincidence in it.
Oh, and the letters page has letters from future comics writer Peter Gillis and a Dave Stevens who may be the artist who created the Rocketeer. Cool.

One Response to “Giant-Size Werewolf #2 (1974)”

  1. Ariel Says:

    That sounds amazingly cool. I\’d love to look at your comic collection, I bet i could spend hours looking through it

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