Today’s article is going to start with an anecdote. The anecdote includes a small boast, a lie constructed out of two truths, and a lead into the main article. The boast is there as a reminder to myself that I still have some fun within the sphere of comics. The lie is the amalgamation of two events that happened leading to the outcome in the anecdote. Although this makes it technically not a real event, it does simplify the actual events and make it easier, and quicker, to digest while containing the same basic information. And finally, the lead into the main article.

But why start with an anecdote? Well, it serves two purposes: firstly as an introduction to the topic about to be discussed. I’m not very good at “beginnings,” often having the ending worked out long before I start to write, but then stalling as I have trouble getting the first sentences out. And secondly, it’s a small reflection of the comics community as I experience it. One problem within any fandom is that everyone thinks that everyone else in the group experiences their interest in the same way. But they don’t. I have met academics studying comics who have never been in a comic book store, collectors who barely read any of the comics they buy, and creators who only create comics so that they can pay their bills. These are all very different to what most people think of as comic book fans. But I digress.

The Anecdote

Earlier in the year I was in the city of Leeds at the annual Comics Forum Conference where I was giving a talk on the use of disembodied figures within classic EC comics. While there, I took the opportunity to visit the Travelling Man Store, often seen as one of the best comic book shops in the country. The visit was prompted by a conversation with an academic who, it turned out, had never been to a specialized comic book shop before, despite writing a number of papers on graphic novels and superhero comics. His entire research had been based on the titles available in his university library and a few online orders. To me, this seemed unbelievable, that someone would dedicate so much of their time to a medium without engaging in one of the core aspects of the medium: the comic book shop. So, as I have said, we took the opportunity to go along to one of the comic shops close by.

While in the shop, I picked up a copy of Batman: The Court of Owls Saga, a reprint of the 2011 New 52 version of Batman written by Scott Snyder and drawn by Greg Capullo. I read it when it originally came out, but sold almost all of the issues a few years ago, only keeping two issues that have been signed by the cover artists. And I remembered virtually nothing about the story. As I was looking at it, my colleague asked me what it was and, while I was explaining, someone else in the shop decided to interject and give us his opinion. He felt that I shouldn’t buy the book I had in my hand, and instead buy a different version of it, in hardback, with a glossy cover, and a heap of back matter. According to this fellow, that was the only way to experience the comic, and not through the “rubbish” DC Compact that was in my hand, with its poor quality printing and shrunken page size.

I looked at the cheaply printed £8.99 book in my hand and the £80+ Absolute version that this interloper had indicated.

I then bought the DC Compact version.

As I did so, I turned to my colleague and explained “This is the best way to read these American comics. A true reflection of the medium as originally visualized back in the 1930s and 1940s. Cheap and disposable.”

Can I Read That In The Bath?

There are certain comics that I love. Ones that I collect and keep, horde away in boxes, and place center stage on shelves. The Sandman, for example, was instrumental to my transition from reading children’s and superhero comics to reading material that had substance and consequence. As such, I am slowly building a collection of the original, single issue prints, picking them up wherever I see them. I have several trade paperbacks, which are the copies I mainly read. And I have the three-volume omnibus collection: a prestige format of heavy tomes that sit on my shelf and are occasionally disturbed to show to visitors.

But most of the comics I buy get read, chucked in a box, and eventually—depending on their re-readability—will be filed into my collection or given away. Do you know that terrible person who, when leaving the comic shop, rolls up their new comics and slips them into their back pocket with no regard for the integrity of the product they’ve just bought? That’s me. I once coated a table with cuttings from some old comics that I knew I would never read again. For me, the beauty of the comic medium is that it is disposable. You can flick through a comic, pass it onto a friend, or give it to a charity shop for someone else to buy. Unfortunately, the modern comic industry has embraced the collectability of comics, making everything a premium, a must-have. The industry is desperate for the consumers to believe that the only way to experience their favorite stories are through ever more elaborate re-issued editions in bigger and bigger formats.

I bought Madi: Once Upon A Time In The Future, written by Duncan Jones and Alex de Campi, through a Kickstarter campaign several years ago. It is a gorgeous oversized book worked on by a host of superb artists. I have read it once. Its size makes it difficult to read comfortably. It is too heavy and awkward to hold while having a bath. I haven’t lent it to anyone because I don’t want them to pull a muscle while carrying it home. All in all, it is a gorgeous bookend but a waste of the talent showcased within because it goes unread on the shelf.

Good Things, Small Packages

DC’s new compact range of comics is the antithesis of this. They break down two of the largest barriers that face people reading comics today: cost and accessibility. And, as such, it’s one of the best marketing ploys by any of the major comic publishers in years.

Returning to my anecdote, I can understand why some people might not appreciate the DC Compact comic, but I surmise that these people are hardened comic book aficionados. However, a large majority of us are just looking for something good to read on the train ride home. To quickly contrast the compact book to a single issue, I bought two single issue comics the other week, barely got change from my £10 note (I’m English, sorry), and had read both comics before I had finished eating my lunch. One of them is lingering around my bedroom, waiting to be added to my collection and the other has already been given away. But the experience was a disappointment; not because the comics weren’t good, but because I had paid a lot of money for very minimal entertainment. Obviously if the comics turned out to be mind blowing works of art, then the cost might have been worth it. But I am unlikely to reread either comic, especially as they both only contained part of a story and I am even less likely to get the other parts.

But, back in Leeds, I bought Batman: The Court of Owls Saga for £8.99. It contained the full story—eleven single issues plus some extras—and kept me reading for several hours over a number of evenings. It fit into my pocket while at the train station so I could get to it easily while hanging around for my train. I could hold it comfortably in one hand, reading while making a drink or sitting in the bath (I do a lot of my reading in the bath). I’m fairly knowledgeable about the main superheroes, but that didn’t matter, as not only did this book contain a full story, it was also easy to access for someone who might not have read many Batman comics. Only the most superficial knowledge of the character is needed to enjoy the book.

For me, this version of Batman: The Court of Owls embodies what comics should be. Not from a narrative or creative point of view, but from an affordable, accessible product point of view. I miss the days of being able to go into a shop, pick up a pile of comics for £1, or even 50p, each, and go home without worrying about whether or not it was worth it. These days I don’t buy so many comics because the price makes me ask myself, do I really want to spend £4.50 on it? How many more issues will I need to buy to complete the story? The DC Compact range takes some of that trepidation away. With a cover price of £8.99, you are getting a full story at a cost of less than £1 per comic. And, if it turns out you don’t like it, it’s so easy to pass on to someone else.

Imagine this scenario, trying to give away a single issue:
“Do you want this?”
“Is it any good?”
“It’s okay. It’s part one of six.”
“Then no.”

Now imagine the same scenario giving away a DC Compact:
“Do you want this?”
“Is it any good?”
“It’s okay. Good start with some excellent stuff in the middle. I wasn’t keen on the ending but you can read it in the bath.”
“Yeah, go on then”.

More Tiny Titles

There are currently ten DC Compact books available, but the range will be expanding quite rapidly over the next few years, based on the announcements that have been made. The series is not focused on anything specific, but instead a range of different DC comics from their back catalog. There are true classics like Watchmen and All Star Superman, but there are also modern classics like American Vampire and Harley Quinn. This all-encompassing range is even more noticeable in the other titles announced, which include obvious collections such as Batman: The Long Halloween and V for Vendetta along with potential surprise inclusions such as Y: The Last Man and Kingdom Come.

I have added Batman: Hush to my collection, a story I’ve heard good things about and read the first few issues of many moons ago. I enjoyed getting the full story and, as a knock on effect, reading it has made me pick up more Batman comics. In fact, I have read more Batman related titles in the last few months than I have done over the last few years, and all because I was able to pick up a handy little book just at the time when I wanted something to read.

I always say I enjoy the X-Men movies more than the other Marvel superhero movies because watching them makes me want to read the comics. And something similar happened while reading Batman: The Court of Owls Saga. It reminded me that there are good, self-contained Batman stories out there and gave me the impulse to go and find them.

So, to summarize:

DC Compact books are easily accessible, complete stories that are affordable.

If you look at the comic industry model in North America during the 1940s and 1950s, this is exactly what comics were all about. They were cheap and disposable. Entertainment that captured the minds of the readers. DC Compacts work in the same way.

Plus, they make excellent gifts.

If you are a newbie in the comic book world, or you just want to read good comics without the pomp and ceremony that comes with collectibles and prestige formats, then you cannot go wrong with a DC Compact.