Few comic artists have left their mark on the comic book industry like Steve Ditko. With his groundbreaking work on Spiderman and Doctor Strange with Stan Lee, his signature style art connossieurs find recognizable no matter who inked him, and then his remarkable hermitish existence away from the front lines of comicdom, he is a shining star much like B Traven (Treasure of Sierra Madre).

Steve Ditko began his career in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, born to a family with a strong work ethic and artistic background. Naturally gifted, he was self taught and after being discharged from the service, he joined the Cartoonists and Illustrators School to be mentored by Jerry Robinson and the staff of the school. His first sale was to Stanmor Publications (written by Bruce Hamilton), and from there, his unique style and visual sensibilities took him to an artistic peak at Marvel Comics in the mid 1960’s. Working with Warren, DC, Charlton, Marvel, and a variety of smaller publishers, the creative output of Steve Ditko was hampered later in his career by his philosophic leanings towards Randism and objectivism.

That, perhaps is the saddest truth in Black Bell’s “The World of Steve Ditko”. What could have been a charmed life working on Spiderman, Doctor Strange, and his own creations, turned into an introspective look inside that gradually crept into his most celebrated stories. His work became telling, as opposed to story telling, and with that, any appeal Ditko may have had to contemporary publishers was diminished.

As a comic fan and historian, I find that “The World of Steve Ditko” is a wholly remarkable book. What really stands out are a couple of facets. Firstly, Bell is a strong advocate of Steve Ditko. His admiration and defense of Ditko’s talent is clear. Secondly, the life and art of Steve Ditko that could have been shared with comic fans and historians that will never be seen is presented with a factual bent that leaves readers with a sense of sadness as opposed to celebration.

Bell relates the stories of co-workers who have been rebuffed over a thematic representation, or financial arrangement gone wrong. Greg Theakston tells of seeing priceless art being cut up. What is clearly missing in the book is the voice of Steve Ditko, but that is not the fault of Blake Bell. It is to his credit that he presents a strong image of a creative genius overwhelmed by his craft, who loses sense of balance and purpose. Ditko is Ditko. That much is sure. But is he the man behind Spiderman, or The Question?, or Hawk and Dove? Or Mr A? Is he just a man who was imbued with a talent few can hope for?

That is the question we are left with after reading this brilliant treastise that defines a man by those who have encountered him at his low and high points without his co-operation. If he were to have been consulted, and he would have agreed, we might have a different story. Perhaps the voice of Howard Roark might be more suitable.

Artists through the decades have struggled with the questions Steve Dikto has embraced whole heartedly. Some have accepted standard tenants of belief, while others have moved towards Randism, monotheism, polytheism, atheism, or hedonism. His is not a new story, but rather one of many who continue to enthrall us.

The graphic design and artistic samples throughout the book are stunning. Rare images culled from scattered files and collaborators collections decorate the book. I love the unpublished Spiderman covers, and actually like them more than the published ones (AAF 15 for example).

The life and influence of Steve Ditko will always be debated. In many ways, he is the opposite of Stan Lee who easily took the spotlight. The comic book industry needs both.

If you read this Mr Ditko. Thank you.