All of this seems not only far off, but like a cautionary tale from one of the alternative Earths DC Comics had established in their comic book universe, when you look at issue No. 185 (1969). While new regular series“ artist Ross Andru was only two years younger than Carmine Infantino, the generational change was writ large in the pages of The Flash when even our middle-class hero started to get hip and with it. And not only The Flash saw this kind of change. Three issues earlier you can find an in-house ad for the The New Wonder Woman, actually the old series being given a new direction by writer Denny O“Neil, the cover of this issue proudly proclaiming: “It“s goodbye to the past for The New Wonder Woman”“, as it showed the beautiful Amazonian Princess Diana not in her superheroine outfit, but in a short dress. And this change would also affect Iris West. Like Karin Grace, one member of the original Suicide Squad, a series Andru had worked on before, Iris had started out at the end of the 1950s. But now, more than a decade later, suddenly and unmistakably, Iris Allen looked like she rather belonged to a generation that was in their early twenties than in a group of women of the Eisenhower era. Her pixie haircut gave the impression that it had been styled by none other than Vidal Sassoon himself. And her formal wear, all business, long gloves included, gave way to a much more fashionable, sexy attire, as she was sporting the short mini dresses readers got accustomed to seeing in the pages of Marvel, being worn more and more by the heroes“ girlfriends and the superheroines themselves, sans the go-go boots of course, since this was still DC Comics and at that time, their books were still geared towards younger boys and girls alike. And as her looked changed, so did she and the relationship she had with her superhero husband. For just a handful of issues this change was also brought about by a new writer. Frank Robbins who was at the same age as the previous writers like Robert Kanigher and John Broome, like he, all born during the second decade of the previous century. Robbins and Andru gave Iris a stylish look and a new role. Frank Robbins was no Roy Thomas. The latter, a twenty-six-year-old former English teacher turned long-haired, would-be hippie and more importantly, writer and editor for Marvel Comics, who not only was able to emulate Stan Lee“s writing style and storytelling methods, but who brought a sense of the now to comics, that far surpassed that of his mentor, the much older Lee. Thomas was a fan boy turned pro. Lee, like Robbins and all the writers on The Flash prior, had been veterans of the industry. And none of them were baby boomers. But Robbins was a family man and he had an in with the now generation. He had two children. His son was eighteen and his daughter was twelve at the time he worked on the book. And in the few issues he wrote for the Scarlet Speedster, readers saw a real partnership between Barry and Iris for the very first time. The couple worked as a team, together or independent of each other for a common goal, Barry in his sleek red uniform, and Iris in the shortest of dresses. They had adventures not in Central City, but in Japan and France. Issue No. 185 finds the couple in Paris which comes under attack by an alien force invading Earth. While Barry is doing some detective work both in his identity as police scientist and as a superhero, Iris is shown conducting her own investigation while she also does some action like Emma Peel would on TV. And in a twist, that would pre-date Denis Villeneuve“s movie Arrival by more than fifty years, it is Iris who figures out that communicating with the aliens is the best course of action. All this while looking sexy and hip like she had not done before. Her beginnings, when she was presented as cold and as a constant nag, seem but an almost forgotten memory in the readers“ eye. Likewise, in the preceding issue (by the same creative team including inker Mike Esposito), Iris does keep her cool when a group of scientists are shown in a state of panic. Granted, the reveal of Barry“s dual identity (which had happened under John Broome) set the stage for this new Iris, but Robbins gave us a couple that worked and that worked together as a couple. But as with the fun and freedom of the hip and happening generation of the 1960s that came to a halt with the Manson murders, leading into a massive hangover period at first, this short-lived period of happiness and togetherness for Barry and Iris ended in a flash, brought about by a writer who was of the generation Robbins and Andru emulated in their art. A baby boomer, writer Mike Friedrich must have felt the signs of the impending hangover that set in after the party that the late 1960s were. Friedrich brought the couple back to what felt like suburbia, to their home of the never untidy living-room and the always cleaned up kitchen. And there, as depicted by Ross Andru, right on the first couple of pages to the first Flash story he wrote, Barry gets to live out his fantasy. Coming home from a hard day“s work, he was greeted by his wife who was shown as the most perfect image of a woman a man might be able to conjure up. Sporting another of her short and very tight dresses, she is also wearing a short, white apron inviting the age-old dichotomy of what an ideal of a perfect woman should look like and how she, according to men, should behave. While she was taking care of getting dinner ready for her man, she also gave him the fullest of her attention. And best of all, she suggested that he took some time off and enjoyed himself without her since she needed to do work for her newspaper. But if this felt like the couple was about to regress into the state before the 1960s ever took place, the idyllic and idealized home life of the late 1950s, Mike Friedrich and new artist Gil Kane had some bad news. The hangover, also felt by the society at large, was all too real once the quick and sweet buzz of the fun adventures they had had as a couple under Robbins“ pen wore off.
There is no irony in the fact that under Gil Kane“s pencil and inker Vince Colletta“s pen Barry and Iris did look their most glamorous in The Flash No. 197 (1970). While working with Andru, Friedrich had ended his first issue on the series with a page that would have felt right at home in the late 1950s, with Barry even wearing a hat and their bedroom sporting two separate beds, mind you, this issue felt pretty adult by comparison. At first glance, page six of this issue, beautifully rendered by Kane and Colletta, gives us the most romantic and real depiction of the couple in any issue of this series yet. Both Barry and Iris are young (much younger it seems than in the preceding issues) and they are at their most beautiful. Barry has longer hair now and he is bare-chested as he is fit and trim. Iris also sports slightly longer hair which gives her a more feminine, softer appearance, only to be further accentuated by the very short nightie she is wearing. Interestingly, as if to underline their gender roles, the nightie Iris is wearing is pink, and the pants on Barry are blue. But with all this beauty there must come great expectations for a couple at their peak sexiness. Yet they are all dressed up with nowhere to go, really. During their conversation, they move into different rooms, that look much brighter than in previous issues, with walls and interiors that follow a candy-like color scheme. In those rooms, together with them, there seems to be a feeling of dissatisfaction. A dull, lingering uneasiness that came from the realization that even if you were this beautiful, even if you were a hip and happening couple and got with it, nothing had changed. And even if you had changed, it was not enough. While Barry“s hair is longer now, to let us in on the fact that this was now a new decade, Iris is not pleased with her man. “Your hair-comb is even worse”¦ only one star for that!”“ But with this sense of boredom that many couples at that time must have felt, this sense of alienation, this gnawing thought at the back of your skull that your partner was not enough or that she or he was not at their possible best, Iris does not stop there. “I“ve been finding out that the theater is a pretty lively scene! You ought to get involved in something like that”¦ speed Barry Allen up a bit.”“ Barry acts surprised of course, but Iris is as insistent as she had been when she had enrolled him pretty much against his will in a motivation class all the way back in The Flash No. 136 (1963). “Why not? My friend Cenna told me her husband joined an amateur actors“ workshop”¦ and he changed completely.”“ What we are to take from this is, that even though her husband already acted out two different roles, it wasn“t enough anymore. The adventures had stopped, and now Barry neither kisses her goodbye or is on time. And as if in answer to this dullness, this feeling of sameness and boredom, it was also the point in time at which the sexual revolution of the 1960s generation of college kids and drop-outs, reached suburbia.
Once the sexual revolution had reached suburbia, there came the key parties with the spouse-swapping at the end of fondue dinners among close, consenting friends or trusted co-workers, the feel of wrinkle-free polyester pants, orange-colored ascots to cover up hickeys, the smell of sweat mixed with perfume and the sharp scent of recreational marijuana. With it came a heightened sense of anxiety to Barry who already had trust issues. How would Iris behave herself in this new world of constant temptation? As if to signal to readers that the hangover period was over and now even married couples were playing the field, this series found a new regular artist with issue No. 200 (1970) in Irv Novick who would define the design of The Flash for many years to come like Infantino had done before him. Irv Novick“s pencils felt as dynamic as Infantino“s, but less stylized and more naturalistic, while he also created a classic look at the drawing board to give Barry a more handsome face and an athletic body, both in his civilian identity and in his skintight red bodysuit. Novick“s debut issue, written by Robert Kanigher, who had authored the first Silver Age Flash story in 1956, had a sweaty, erotic feel as it saw our hero falling under the spell of a very alluring femme fatale, an agent of an Asian country meant as a stand-in for Communist China. But there was also the polyester sweat of suburbia, as Iris, as a reporter, went to meet a handsome and all-manly tennis pro with her tennis outfit consisting of the shortest skirt she had ever worn. Naturally, as he had done so in issue No. 113 (1960) when she was seeing another man, Barry would spy on Iris as The Flash. The difference this time around being that he revealed himself to her. And her reaction was maybe not in the least surprising. She did not see his lack of trust, but by contrast was turned on by this invasion into her work-life. But Barry was clearly concerned. In issue No. 203 (1971) he found out that his wife was indeed a two-timer, at least that was how Robert Kanigher framed it in the story title. What it meant in this case however, this was still comics aimed at young readers despite the double-entendre, was that both he and his wife found out that Iris was not from their timeline. Born in the year 2945, Iris“ birthparents had sent her to our time as a baby while there was a war going on in their time, one which they were sure to perish in. But her parents were alive and after The Flash had followed her, their time became a place the couple would visit on occasion. This however made Iris both, a woman out of time and a woman of her time. And in her time, Barry would still be unable to trust her. Only one issue later, Barry was having a nightmare in which he finds Iris revealing his secret to the world. And as if any reader needed further evidence that this was a possibility, the cover for the issue by Neal Adams made this so very abundantly clear, with showing Iris with her husband in his superhero outfit surrounded by a group of people as she shouted: “Hear me, world! I can“t keep it a secret any longer. The Flash is my husband”¦ Barry Allen!”“ If this did not tell readers that Barry did well by not trusting his wife, then what was? But it also underlined how uneasy Barry was with her knowing his secret, and readers caught that as well.
From the start, Barry Allen had been presented as a middle-class guy. A very middle of the road person. Still it feels strangely fitting for the time in which these stories were told and how their relationship had been established with the first issue, that the near collapse of Barry and Iris“ marriage was not brought about by simply just another man, or by his wife alone, but by another woman. Two women, who both had figured out his secret identity. One was his wife Iris, who was one of the first realistic (comparatively speaking) women in comics, with feelings that felt real and an identity of her own, and who was a career woman and a homemaker. While the other woman was a long-haired, long-legged blonde sex-goddess, the ultimately cheerleader. A male-fantasy pin-up come to live and gone bad, ice cold in her demeanor, but with a passion for revenge. She was The Golden Glider, the sister of his arch-nemesis Captain Cold. In other words, for a comic book publisher who intended their books for kids, these stories got pretty sophisticated and frighteningly adult. These fictional characters felt real, like what was going on in your neighborhood and with the parents of your friends, minus the fact that regular folks did not wear tight fitting costumes made of spandex, but then again, a lot of stylish, pretty people went dressed like that to their local disco. But at the core of these stories we would also learn that it was his lack of trust that made things this disturbing. Barry“s lack of trust in Iris“ faithfulness was what would bring him and Iris“ to a dark place, while at the same time it was unconditional love that turned a woman into a villainess. Golden Glider was a former figure skater outfitted with jewels to hypnotize people and rings to poison her victims. Those weapons of choice already gave readers the impression that she would not fight fair, that here was a person who was deceptive. The message being that despite her attractiveness or maybe because of it, you should not trust her. And attractive she was, with a tight, short-skirted costume which made the most of it and put her shapely, athletic legs on full display for readers. With the high collar of her orange-golden costume and her big hair, she was all about disco by the way of a Las Vegas showgirl. The artists who depicting her, not only Irv Novick, but a number of cover artists, made sure that Golden Glider was to make a lasting impression with readers who at that time were mostly young men. Case in point: the cover to her second appearance by Al Milgrom and Jack Abel showed the villainess floating in the air with her stretched out legs spread apart, her short skirt shoved high on her hips, revealing the lower part of her form fitting costume which might very well have been her panties. This lurid and highly suggestive pose in which the two artists presented her, was clearly designed to grab the male readers“ attention as it invited every reader to stare at her. But as she skirted on the borders of the Comics Code, The Golden Gilder simultaneously exuded an air of dominance over the hero. He was in the foreground and to the right, and he commanded more space on the cover, but The Whiz Wizard was in pain, while The Golden Glider floated high up in the air, to the left and above him, with her long hair dancing in the wind. The Flash seemed broken like one of the many pearls she almost casually dropped all around him and which shattered on impact. The Fastest Man Alive was visibly shaken while The Golden Glider was radiant, triumphant and completely in control. She was not the first female he had to fight, but she was the first female super-villain among his enemies. As most of The Flash“s recurring villains were members of their own boys“ club, including her brother Captain Cold, the beautiful villainess stood apart. Clearly dreamed up as the embodiment of a male fantasy by new regular writer Cary Bates and Irv Novick, she was introduced into the series to capture the attention of male readers since readership had fallen off. With every image of her designed for maximum titillation, she did just that. But by making The Golden Glider this beautiful and sexual, and by giving her a skillset to match her beauty, she was that and more. High up in the air, above the defeated Flash, she symbolized every beautiful girl you saw at your school or in town, unattainable in her beauty, far away and forever out of reach to any reader of a comic book.
The Golden Glider was not just a woman in a disco-type outfit with go-go boots and skates to be goggled by the men in those stories or young readers. Right from the start you got the sense you would be well-advised to stay well out of her way. Even if you were her brother. The Golden Glider was a super-villain as much as she was an alpha female. She was the hot girl at your school that had no idea who you were, that you existed, or who stared you down with a glance in her eyes that told you that she thought you were a creep. She was the ice queen you dared not approach unless she spoke to you first. And even if she did speak to you, as you immediately got that she was bad news and could easily get into your head, all you would manage was a stammer. And as she floated in the air with the help of her high-tech skates that created a path of ice on any surface, even air, she was more competent than any men, but her late lover, The Top, the alpha male among the Rogues for whose death she blamed The Flash. Issue No. 250 (1977) introduced us to this new character and we got her backstory. Lisa Snart was a figure skater who was secretly being trained by The Flash“s nemesis. This being the sweaty 1970s, it was heavily implied that, between the panels, the characters were in a sexual relationship. Among The Rogues, The Top had always seemed less goofy, more cunning, even highly sadistic at times. He was the ultimate bad boy on a motorbike, the one who had no trouble talking to girls. The Top was a leader among outcasts, and as an outsider he hated the ultimate insider, namely Central City“s beloved hero The Flash. There was only one way, his fight with The Flash could have ended. It almost seems poetic that victory was not won by the hero in a decisive battle to settle their score once and for all, but that The Top was killed by getting too close to this hero who was a stand-in for society from which The Top felt he was cut off by fate. Lisa didn“t see it this way. She blamed The Flash for her lover“s death. As Bates, Irv Novick and Vince Colletta created the character in our universe, Lisa was created in her world by a man as well. The death of her lover not only made her become a villain, but it gave The Golden Glider her mission. She was not going to rob banks like The Rogues. Nor did she intend to kill The Flash. She even stopped Captain Cold, her own brother, from killing The Flash when the opportunity presented itself. She wanted to play a game with The Flash like a cat, to let him suffer, to break him. While The Rogues were busy with refining their high-tech weapons, Golden Glider observed her opponent, as she schemed. And what about Barry? He found himself already caught between two women. His wife and his former girlfriend who had not been seen since issue No. 132 (1962). Hollywood actress Daphne Dean, who once again ensnared him in one of the outlandish plans her manager had cooked up. Just when Iris left their residence in tears and Barry as The Flash followed her, The Golden Glider was there to witness this. As the hero and the wife of the police scientist kiss, Lisa draws the one conclusion she could at that time: “Iris Allen was two-timing her husband while being romanced by The Flash!”“ Naturally, The Golden Glider made an attempt on Iris“ life. The first run in with the guy she blamed for her lover“s death, ended with his lover apparently slain.
From the first encounter, readers had already learned that Golden Glider was as cruel as she was bad. But with her second full appearance (after a cameo in the preceding issue), they would learn why Lisa“s attractiveness made them so uneasy. Among the villains of The Flash she was the sharpest knife. Golden Glider was so intelligent and cunning that The Rogues came across like bumbling amateurs or like young men in their teens, something most readers knew a thing or two about. She managed what none of the other villains in The Flash“s Rogue Gallery were able to do, not even her lover The Top. She figured out that Barry Allen and The Flash were the same person, something she shared with the hero“s greatest nemesis, The Reverse-Flash. While he was from a different timeline and as such had access to advanced technology, it had taken his arch-foe until his fourth appearance to learn The Flash“s civilian identity by using his newly acquired telepathic powers. Golden Glider neither possessed such powers, nor did she need them. In issue No. 257 (1978) we see her secretly following the couple. Of course, Iris had not died at the end of issue No. 250 as readers found out in issue No. 251. The Flash“s spouse would also not die at the hands of the blonde villainess in that issue as The Golden Glider was outwitted by her opponent. Initially, Golden Glider had assumed that Iris was two-timing her husband with the hero. However, she“d had her doubts, thinking about Iris “”¦ she didn“t seem the type, so I asked myself”¦ what if the two men in her life were actually one?”“ Thus, we see her setting up a trap which led her “to an obvious answer.”“ To highlight her intellect, Bates gives us this narration: “The Golden Glider has cracked a secret that has baffled the greatest criminals of the world!”“ Later, when she confronts The Flash to taunt him, of course he fears for the worst. As with Iris, he is convinced that Lisa will reveal his secret identity to the whole world. But like his wife, Golden Glider wouldn“t do such a thing: “I know what you“re thinking, Flash but don“t worry! I have no intention of telling the world that you are Barry Allen! I wouldn“t dream of sharing our little secret with anyone!”“ However, she does escalate her attack dramatically, threatening not only Iris this time around, but also Barry“s parents. When The Flash, pushed to his own limit, threatens Lisa, she calls his bluff, but she also reminds him of the length she is willing to go to: “Then I“ll die gladly.”“ In The Golden Glider we learn, Barry had found his betters. Even though he defeats her once again by the end of the story and he saves his loved ones, it proves to be a hollow victory. Not only does she manage to escape capture, but like his own wife, Lisa had found out his secret identity. This set the stage for her return only four issues later in The Flash No. 261 (1978), in which began a story that Bates told over the course of four issues, something that had never been done in a series in which stories either concluded in the very same issue (earlier, there would be even two complete stories per issue) or in the next issue. And Bates would make the most out of this storytelling real estate. To find out what the writer and the Vendetta Villainess had in store, and how Barry“s lack of trust in his wife would nearly destroy both his marriage and his career as a superhero, all will be revealed in seven days! See you back here in a flash!
Author Profile
Chris Buse (RIP)
A comic book reader since 1972. When he is not reading or writing about the books he loves or is listening to The Twilight Sad, you can find Chris at his consulting company in Germany... drinking damn good coffee. Also a proud member of the ICC (International Comics Collective) Podcast with Al Mega and Dave Elliott.
