An Examination of The Flash # 123
By Kevin N. Davis
There is something special - something magical - about those old-time comics. The pre-Crisis stories from the Gold and Silver Ages of comics boasted a simplicity and creativity that just isn’t duplicated in modern-day comic storytelling. While the far-out pseudo-science, logical gaps, and often formulaic plots in even the greatest of those stories don’t hold up well to critical scrutiny, they still show undeniable charm and even complexity when measured through the lenses of modern storytelling standards. Even more than that, many of these stories proved to be the very foundation upon which modern comics were built. Nowhere is this last point more evident than in Flash of Two Worlds (The Flash # 123, September 1961). Written and illustrated by the legendary Gardener Fox and Carmine Infantino, what could have been a simple one-off story became arguably the most important moment in comics since Superman leapt his first tall building.
The notion of other dimensions and alternate realities was certainly nothing new in 1961, but Flash of Two Worlds introduced the concept of Earth-One and Earth-Two (parallel Earths on which history has developed slightly differently, resulting in slightly different heroes, villains, and supporting characters) to DC Comics, laying the groundwork for the first Crisis story two years later and culminating in the industry-shattering Crisis on Infinite Earths in 1985. This allowed DC Comics to bring back the Golden Age Justice Society to be featured in all-new stories, often crossing over with the current roster of the Justice League. Although far more grounded in “real world” similarities, Marvel Comics would adopt this concept years later when Earth-616 was introduced (first in 1983, and then popularized beginning in 2004). Needless to say, the landscape of modern comic books would look very different if it hadn’t been for Flash of Two Worlds.
Also, historical significance aside, it’s just a really great story. If you’ve never read the story before, do yourself a favor and read it immediately. (It’s been reprinted and collected countless times.) For those of you who have experienced the magic, let’s take a look at the story and examine some of the things that make it a masterpiece.
First off, just look at that cover. Infantino’s dynamic shot of Gardener Fox’s original scarlet speedster of the 1940s dashing into action alongside his current namesake must have stirred the delight of both children and adult readers in 1961. Notice the emphasis placed on the word “I’m” in Jay Garrick’s speech balloon as well as how Garrick appears slightly closer to the foreground than Barry Allen. Look at how the falling girder seems to be pointing directly at Garrick and almost overshadowing Allen. (Sidenote: This is a visual trick that artists use to guide the reader’s eyes. Many comic pages employ a linear pattern called “The Lazy Z” to facilitate the reader’s natural visual tendencies. Google it.) Even the poor guy who can’t seem to get out of the way of the falling girder (while somehow finding time to call for help) is facing Garrick, with his raised arm blocking Allen from his view. These subtle distinctions give the guest star a level of equal – and possibly even greater – importance than the book’s actual star.
The splash page once again elevates the guest star’s importance as Jay Garrick is placed front and center and talking down to the sidelined Barry Allen. Also, the yellow caption boxes feature two opposing hands emerging from the top of each one. This certainly drives home the theme of duality that the reader can expect in the upcoming story.
The story is simple enough. While performing super feats for a group of orphans, The Flash (Barry Allen) vibrates at such an incredible rate of speed that he breaks through a barrier separating our world from that of a parallel world (later to be named Earth-Two). After some initial confusion, Barry determines that he has somehow crossed over into the fictional Keystone City, home of his boyhood hero… Jay Garrick! It turns out the Barry had grown up reading Flash Comics written by Gardener Fox (a delightful little break in the fourth wall) who claimed that the adventures of The Flash came to him in his dreams. Barry surmises that Fox must have been “tuned in” to the vibrations of Earth-Two while sleeping and would wake up mistakenly believing that he had dreamed the adventures of Jay Garrick. After finding and introducing himself to the now-retired Garrick, it turns out that a recent spree of bizarre crimes has prompted Garrick to consider coming out of retirement. Agreeing to team up to solve the case, the two Flashes set out.
Here we meet the trio of super villains responsible for the aforementioned crimes, and we come across one of the most puzzling aspects of Silver Age super villainy. The rogues in question are The Thinker with his mental hat that allows anything he can think of to happen, The Fiddler whose fiddle emits mind-controlling musical notes, and The Shade who brandishes a cane that can plunge his surrounding area into pitch blackness. They are sitting amongst a horde of purloined treasures and planning various capers worth millions of dollars, as well as exacting revenge on The Flash (Jay Garrick). Here’s the puzzle: with these three having so recently escaped from prison and being well off enough to acquire costumes, technologically advanced weapons, and millions of dollars’ worth of treasures, what exactly is their motivation to continue with lives of crime? These guys are clearly set for life, yet they returned to Keystone City just to pick a fight with the guy who has beaten them so often in the past. I mean, The Fiddler even has a self-driving car in the shape of a giant fiddle. Seriously, a fiddle car. Here, check it out.
This is a pretty common theme among Silver Age villains. They have massive hideouts, gadgets, an endless supply of henchmen, and sooo much money stashed away. By any stretch of the imagination, they should hang their tights up and retire to an island somewhere, yet they never do. No, they just keep coming back to Gotham or Metropolis or Keystone City and starting elaborate quarrels that they have no hope in winning. Ah well, it’s amusing but easy to overlook.
Moving right along, the trio begin to execute their crime spree while the two Flashes split up to search for the culprit or culprits of their mysterious mission. Jay Garrick encounters The Thinker and, being out of practice, is quickly thwarted by the menace of the mental hat. Barry Allen doesn’t fare much better against The Shade. He manages to whirl The Shade’s dark shroud into a black twister, but is soon stymied when the director of darkness mixes oil into his ebon cloud, causing The Flash to slip and fall. Yes, that’s true.
After licking their wounds, the two Flashes decide to work together to defeat their enemies. After all, if they were so easily defeated individually, it stands to reason that the bad guys won’t stand a chance against their combined might. Right?
Meanwhile, The Thinker and The Shade discuss their two different encounters with The Flash and quickly deduce that there are, in fact, two Flashes meddling in their schemes. Concerned for the safety of their partner, the two super criminals run off to warn The Fiddler. They find him in the middle of a jewelry heist, but he doesn’t seem worried about the possibility of two scarlet speedsters. In fact, he’s already met them, hypnotized them with his fiddle, and has them now loading his bag with jewels and dancing like marionettes. Unfortunately for The Fiddler, although he had instructed the two Flashes to aid him in the robbery, he had neglected to order them not to try to escape. And, of course, they do. By stuffing their ears with small jewels, the two Flashes release themselves from The Fiddler’s control. Catching the villains off guard, they make short work of them and haul them off to jail.
The story closes with the two Flashes shaking hands and promising to visit each other in their respective worlds. After vibrating back to his own world, Barry Allen notes that he should look up Gardener Fox and tell him the story. Maybe the adventure will one day make it into a comic book!
Again, it’s a simple story. There are no real plot twists, and the action and tension fits in perfectly with the self-contained storytelling formula of the time. But that’s not why we read old stories, is it? No, I think that, at least on some level, we read those old-time stories for much the same reason that we study history… to see where our comic books of today came from. Carmine Infantino’s artwork is brilliant in its succinctness and its purity. A close look at his work in this story, and it’s very easy to see where future artists drew their inspiration. And the story? Well, the importance of this story should speak for itself. We look at Flash of Two Worlds and realize that it is the genesis of Crisis on Infinite Earths and – by extension – virtually everything that has taken place in a DC comic since 1985.
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