Joe Jusko Weighs In On Marie Severin

Mentioning Marie Severin always seems to bring in the email. Everyone loves her and adored her art and was more than eager to participate in my stalled book (I have Stan Lee's foreword to the volume in my drawer gathering dust... for shame!)

Joe Jusko, the premiere painter of covers and cards, dropped me a note that shouldn't be buried in the fine print of comments:

Marie is an incredible talent and one of the nicest people I've ever met. She did the layout for my very first Marvel cover (which in my 18 year old arrogance I altered to a much weaker composition). To have the chance to do that over!

Marie, Wherefore Art Thou?

Marie Severin and I were still at the fairly early stages of her visual bio (text meets art portfolio) when, sadly, she took ill. Now she's harder to find than J.D. Salinger, so folks occasionally send me letters intended for her. Here's excerpts from a recent one (yes--I'll pass along the letter to her in its entirety):

Dear Mrs. Severin: Like a lot of other fans out there, I feel like I owe a debt of gratitude to you that I can never repay. I wasn't around when you were first drawing all the great issues that I've come to love. I didn't read all your issues of The Incredible Hulk 'til later on or know who to thank... At the time, I was a little kid with dirty knees reading much-loved copies of his dad's comics. Most of 'em were in pretty okay shape, but several were pretty shredded up after narrowly escaping a tornado in the 1970s... I didn't know growing up that it was your vision of these characters that did and still continue to thrill me and give me touchstones of happy times from my life as I grew up.
I think of all the work you've done, the stuff I got a kick out of the most was your work on Not Brand Echh... [It] remains a special memory to me of my childhood afternoons with my grandmother in the house my dad grew up in, reading his old comics... I'm constantly hoping that Marvel will release those stories as a nice hardcover in their Marvel Masterworks collection, or some other nice format. It's been way too long since fresh eyes have gotten to see those wonderfully silly stories.
I'll likely never meet you at a convention since I live in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and it isn't the vast metropolis it sounds like, so I'll never get a shot to thank you personally for your wonderful body of art. It saddens me that I won't get to shake your hand and look you in the eye with a dopey grin on my face and say thanks. This is the best I can do for now. But I have to thank you, all the same. All the journeys your stories have taken me on have given me many a happy moment reading and imagining. You're one of the maybe dozen people in your field that I can repeatedly re-read and re-read...knowing what'll happen when Hulk fights Sub-Mariner... or that Charlie America has a trashcan lid for a shield (of course!). And [on] the occasion when I find something by you I've never seen before, I'm thrilled that I get to see a whole new unearthed gem for the first time. You have such versatility in your work... zipping from humor to heroes to some stories that show how great a horror-feel you could have... Your moving, twisting, living characters practically make my own muscles stretch just by looking at them. You have continued and will continue to inspire and entertain people like me in all walk's of life by your herculean talent. I really do think that you're the greatest and I had to stop putting off writing this letter... Luckily I was put in touch with Clifford Meth who graciously offered to send this letter along to you for me... I dearly do hope you're enjoying your much-deserved retirement. For everything that you've done, some of which you may not realize you did, I just wanted to say thanks. --Matt S.

Dead Artists Society

More often than not, the best part of my morning is that first steaming coffee, unless my pal Tommy Roberts joins me for bagels with cream cheese at Super-Duper Bagels in Livingston, New Jersey. There’s a little gal scurrying behind the counter there that we call Camel Toe. When you hit your mid-40s, these small things become much bigger.

My friend Marie Severin is enjoying the small things, too. When last seen in this correspondent’s musings, Marie was eating her breakfast off a Styrofoam tray, slurring her words and, unbeknownst to her, on the serious watch list at the hospital she was stuck at.

Good news: Today, Sev has moved on to an assisted living facility out on Long Island. It’s been a solid, steady recovery. Her spirits are high (but weren’t they always?) and she acts like nothing much has happened. And nothing much has. Except for retirement. Marie isn’t drawing anymore. Isn’t taking coloring assignments either. Time has finally caught up with the First Lady of Comics and she’s spending her twilight years relaxing and doing fun stuff. Whatever fun stuff means. I know she still likes to watch “Jeopardy.” So don’t try and track her down to ask for a cover recreation. Leave her alone.

I mention this because I get letters asking me where Marie is and if she’s willing to “just do a small drawing.” I’m asked this by virtue of just knowing Marie—people find my name by-lined on an article and think I have nothing better to do than get them free art. I used to get those letters about Dave Cockrum and Don Heck. Right in the shit can they went.

Today, people are trying to buy up Dave Cockrum’s art—especially his covers. And they still come to me. Hardly anyone was interested in Dave when he was alive, but now that he’s a footnote on pop history he’s an investment. It’s more than a little ghoulish, akin to Forrey Ackerman writing to Bob Bloch on his deathbed and asking Bob to sign “my last autograph ever before I died.” Too bad being a classless slob doesn’t hurt.

Here’s the advice part of my column: If you want art from an artist, start with, “I’m a big fan and I’d like a drawing of this particular character. Please name your price.” Then pay it. Don’t ask for freebies. And don’t negotiate. That’s an insult—especially to an old-timer who is STILL MAKING A LIVING drawing these little Ebay-destined doodles. Try negotiating with your urologist instead next time you’re pissing blood, chum.

Frankly, if I get one more letter asking for a freebie from Marie, I think I’ll blow an eyeball. I just might track the idiot down and throw them the beating their father neglected to impart.

And believe me, if I find out they’re bothering Marie at her retirement facility and trying to chisel her out of her happy hour, I’ll do something particularly vicious and mean-spirited to them, and they’ll never be able to prove who did it.

And then I’ll report it back to the rest of you so it won’t be a total loss.