Let's use our own magic/scientific Time Pool to revisit this blast from the past: The Ask Mr. Silver Age column from CBG #1565 (November 14, 2003), a mere 10 years ago.
Ripples in The Time Pool
The Atom’s time-travelling device was a hit with fans—at least, some
Dear Mr. Silver Age:
I've always been a big fan of The Atom’s Time Pool, which I’'ve been reading about in the Archives volumes. How many trips did he make during The Silver Age, and how were they received by fans?
Rip H..
Northern California
Mr. Silver Age Says: The Atom took eight dives into The Time Pool during The Silver Age, Rip, and the first four are on view in Atom Archives #1 (issue #3) and #2 (#6, #9 and #12). What those volumes don’t reveal (besides the final four trips) is the reaction from fans—and it covered the spectrum. That’s probably only to be expected from a back-up series based on a quirky gimmick that lent itself to going off the deep end, so to speak.
The adventures began with “The Secret of Al-Atom’s Lamp!” in The Atom #3 (Oct-Nov 62), as retired Ivy University professor Alpheus V. Hyatt fine-tuned his Time Pool. If you’re thinking that “Alpheus V. Hyatt” is a pretty wacky comic-book name, he was named after Alpheus Hyatt Verrill, one of editor Julius Schwartz’s favorite science-fiction writers.
Hyatt told Ray Palmer that The Time Pool worked by combining all light colors into “a pool of absolute whiteness.” Somehow, this whiteness pierced the time barrier! Whatever you say, professor! It's not like it's the strangest comic-book science I’ve ever heard. On second thought, I take that back.
Ray was a bit dubious, too, so he rode along as The Atom when the prof next dropped his magnet-retriever into the pool. Upon arriving in ancient Arabia, Atom untied the magnet to ensure it didn’t return without him. What happened to the end of the string isn’t quite explained, but I turned my brain off a few panels back anyway.
With only 9 1/2 pages to work with, the story definitely found a creative way to expand The Atom’s often-mundane adventures. Some positive reactions were printed in The Atom #5 (Feb-Mar 63), leading Julie to note that the “favorable” response meant another story would appear next issue.
“The Highwayman and the Mighty Mite” not only appeared in The Atom #6 (Apr-May 63), it was cover-featured—the only Time Pool story to achieve that distinction. It was still the back-up feature, but it expanded to 12 pages. This time, the history was a little more precise, as it involved 1800s highwayman Dick Turpin.
The story was replete with period costumes, props, language and historical bits, giving us kids a chance to learn all sorts of stuff, like the vocabulary word “heath,” that Handel wrote “Music for the Royal Fireworks” in 1749 and such goofy exclamations as “Od’s Fish!” OK, so they weren’t all useful facts. We even learned what happened to Dick Turpin, a.k.a. Tom Palmer (no relation, I’m sure, to either Ray or the famed comics inker).
This story too was well-received, but cracks began to show--which is interesting, considering Julie was controlling the reaction we saw. One fan complained about the slip-shod history, which didn’t jibe with Dick Turpin’s real downfall.
“I expect better things from you than the run-of-the-mill time-travel tales in which the comic generally makes a shambles of history,” scolded E. Nelson Bridwell of Oklahoma City, Okla., in The Atom #8 (Aug-Sep 63). “Please avoid such pitfalls in your refreshingly different ‘Time Pool’ stories.”
Julie let the jibe pass, noting only that another Time Pool story—“well off the beaten path of history” would be forthcoming. Bridwell, of course, would soon put his money where his mouth was, joining DC as an assistant editor and becoming one of the most beloved editors in comics, particularly for his selections for reprint collections.
That forthcoming story arrived in #9 as “The Seaman and the Spyglass!” and added a truly wacky element to the pool. In the first adventure, Hyatt’s pool-dunking was hit or miss. In the second, he could maintain contact with a particular date once arriving. By this third trip, he had so perfected time-travelling that he and Ray chose a year at random.
The Atom wound up in The Netherlands, where he just happened to meet Jan Lippershey, inventor of the telescope. Amazingly enough, The Mighty Mite arrived just as Jan was learning how a telescope worked. Imagine that. The Atom then met Henry Hudson, one of the few historic figures to learn of The Atom’s existence, and they all had a merry adventure as Henry prepared to sail to the new world.
This tale received some criticism in The Atom #11, balancing the compliment that also appeared. “Stories which depict some super-hero helping history stay on course is just too unrealistic for me,” said Robert Malisani of Toronto.
Julie replied, “Despite the rather ‘time-worn’ theme of having a present-day character involved in events of the past, most of our readers never seem to tire of it and keep asking for more. Concerning The Atom’s adventures in the Time Pool, there’s one thing you can count on—they’ll steer clear of overly famous historical events and overworked historical celebrities.”
But of course they won’t steer completely clear of historical celebrities, because that would minimize the fun—as Julie proved in the next issue, #12 (Apr-May 64) when The Atom teamed with Edgar Allan Poe in Baltimore to become “The Gold Hunters of ’49!” This time, the prof tried to fine-tune the space coordinates of the pool—as if it hadn’t been enough to drop in on Arabia, England and The Netherlands at precisely the spot for an historically significant moment!
This adventure pleased three of the four letter-writers in The Atom #14 (Aug-Sep 64), including Bob Butts of South Bend, Ind., an avowed Poe fan, who praised the story for not making The Atom a key part of history.
But critic Malisani was back to complain that he was becoming “violently opposed” to the series. “You chose a poor sub-hero in Edgar Allan Poe,” he wrote. “For this man was in real life a drinker, a sadistic forlorn figure; quite unlike the impression you gave of him. (Nevertheless, I loved his stories).”
Julie again didn’t rise to the bait, only noting that fans’ opinions differed on the story. Even so, for him to admit that indicated that perhaps there was more backlash than he was admitting.
Possibly because of that unseen blowback, it took awhile for The Atom to dive back into The Time Pool, as it didn’t reappear until #17 (Feb-Mar 65). This time, The Atom traveled to 1898 Nantes, France, where he just happened to run into Jules Verne and become embroiled in a battle over the crystal ball of Michel de Notredame—a.k.a. Nostradamus.
This story received a big thumbs up from fans in The Atom #19 (Jun-Jul 65). “The Time Pool story was brilliant,” wrote Sal Iacopelli of Boonton, N.J.
Some guy named Marvin Wolfman of Flushing, N.Y., agreed. He praised it to the skies but decided the quality didn’t derive from the quirkiness of time-travel stories, their educational nature or the action-packed plots. “I guess the only, or at least, main reason, is the way they’re written,” said the future comics writer. “In The Time Pool stories, The Atom is faced with a realistic situation and must match it using himself and no modern weapons.”
“The Time Pool story in the March issue did indeed win overwhelming praise,” Julie modestly noted.
The Time Pool rippled again in The Atom #21 (Oct-Nov 65), gaining a cover blurb. The story led Ray Palmer to “The Adventure of the Canceled Birthday!” Said birthday was for five-year-old Theodore Hyatt, Alf’s ancestor, in 1752 England. Professor Hyatt wised up and sent a movie camera into the past rather than a magnet—but his camera showed no party evidence.
The reason, The Atom learned, wasn’t that the party was held in another room, house or city, but because in 1752, England revised its calendar and eliminated 11 days, including his ancestor’s birthday. What a coincidence! Even more fortuitously, The Atom met John Fielding and his brother Henry, author of Tom Jones, who wasn’t all that surprised to find himself talking to a 6-inch-tall man.
The fans decided, in The Atom #23 (Feb-Mar 66), that this adventure “was a little less spectacular than its predecessor, but still in the Grand Old DC Tradition,” as return LOC-er Iacopelli put it.
But Dave Bakulski of Manchester, Conn., chastised writer Gardner Fox for choosing “a poor historical character”—i.e., one with whom this fan wasn’t familiar.
“When we initiated the Time Pool series we stressed our resolve to steer clear of notable—and cliché—historical personalities,” Julie responded. “Surely the fact that a reader happens to be unfamiliar with someone who contributed to our culture should not bar him from a ‘comeback.’ If you didn’t know about them before, you do now—so you’ve been wised up!” You tell him, Julie.
A full year passed, at least for us, before the pool resurfaced in The Atom #27 (Oct-Nov 66). This time, Professor Hyatt was “time-doodling,” as he called randomly sticking his magnet into the pool. Don't argue, it's science!
This time, he fished up some fire from 1783 Paris. He was puzzled by this, apparently not figuring the chances of dropping a random magnet into a place without electricity might turn up something fairly hot.
To solve the mystery, The Atom became a “Stowaway on a Hot-Air Balloon!” upon arrival, when a balloon ripped his magnet off the string far above France. Yikes.
Ray gave us a quick history of hot-air balloons and correctly guessed that his encounter was tied to a demonstration for King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.
Sadly, the balloon was destroyed before the demonstration—a historical fact, we’re assured. By an amazing coincidence, The Atom ran into Benjamin Franklin, who helped him find a way home.
Fan response, in The Atom #29 (Feb-Mar 67) again was mixed, with Steven Carlberg of Durant, Okla, proclaiming that “Your Time Pool stories get worse all the time, especially with the corn.” On the other hand, the famous Irene Vartanoff of Bethesda, Md., called it “a beautiful story. These Time Pool flings are really terrific; please continue them forever and forever.” And when the lady known as Poison I.V. handed out a compliment, you paid attention.
David Wasinger of Kays, Kan., chastised Gil Kane for showing Ben holding his glasses by the lens, when no one who wore glasses would ever do that (yeah, right). “Looks like Ben Franklin made a be-spectacle of himself,” Julie opined, indicating that the corn wasn’t going anywhere.
The final Silver Age Time Pool story appeared more than a year later, in The Atom #35 (Feb-Mar 68), when Ray arrived in 1671 London and watched as “Col. Blood Steals the Crown Jewels!” The adventure began when Professor Hyatt’s magnet returned attached to one of the Crown Jewels. Oops. The Atom quickly returned it, only to become involved in Col. Blood’s jewel heist, an historical event with repercussions.
All four letter writers in The Atom #37 (Jun-Jul 68) agreed it was the best story in the issue—but that was damning with faint praise. David Lewin of Lomita, Calif., could bring himself to praise only the splash page, while Jeff Pierce of Stanford, Calif., decided it was “superior to the first [story in the issue], but not by too terribly much. It, too, had a great lack of plot, which was made up for by a great deal of action.”
But Neil Telafor of the Bronx called it “another great success in the great tradition of Time Pool stories,” and Dave Truesdale of South St. Paul, Minn. said, “I really dig these yarns and hope there will be more in the future. This one had the same high standards as set in the previous Time Pool story and was just as interesting. What won’t Professor Hyatt latch onto next!”
Sadly, the prof didn’t latch onto anything else in the Silver Age, as the title combined with Hawkman’s comic beginning with #39, and Prof. Hyatt was left in the dust. That wasn’t the end of The Time Pool, of course. It made numerous later appearances, including an adventure in which Chronos tried to co-opt it in Legends of the DC Universe #40-41 (May-Jun 01).
I frankly don’t how fans responded to those later appearance; my post-Silver Age collection has a few gaps. It’s possible that by those appearances, fans were so used to time-travelling heroes that the pool’s appearance didn’t even make a ripple.
-- MSA
Replies
Henry Fielding's other works include a play based on the legend of the Tom Thumb.
I didn't read those stories until they were reprinted in the Showcase Presents editions. Like most Silver Age Atom stories, they didn't make much of an impression on me, good or bad. About the only thing I remember is that passing through the Time Pool was extremely painful for the Atom, something I've never seen in any other depiction of time travel.
Thanks for this double blast from the past, Craig.
Hoy
I took a different approach with this column by featuring later comments, because that's one thing the reprints can't provide. In part, I was becoming aware that my access to issues wasn't that remarkable any more, because so much was being reprinted and made readily available at bookstores everywhere.
I don't now how often the letters were enlightening enough to want to read them all the time, but I found it interesting that there were some negative ones for these stories. And, of course, it's always fun to look for names that went on to bigger and better things.
I don't know if Julie played up the criticisms, figuring they were more interesting letters, or if they represented the ratio or overall attitude of letter writers about the stories. What the editor chooses is interesting, but we don't know what he had to choose from.
Plus, there's always the possibility that some of the letters, especially on Mort's books, were not from actual people. Some of the names he had in his columns seemed fairly fanciful. I see them now in the issues, and I sometimes wonder how many of those people really existed.
-- MSA
According to my admittingly incomplete index, the Time Pool also appeared in
There may be other appearances.