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Steve Simmons is the son of Lyn Simmons, who was Bill Finger’s companion in the 1960s and his second wife from 1968 to 1971.
What was your relationship with Bill Finger?
I knew him when I was in high school, growing up. He married my mother, I was probably in 12th grade, maybe a freshman in college. I knew him around the house. He would talk about how he was very proud of his work on the various comic books he worked on. I think he not only did work on the storyline, which he did an impressive amount with, [but] also I think I remember him saying was responsible for how Batman looked, like maybe his cape, and how the mask covered Batman’s face? I think he also talked about doing something with the Batmobile, maybe he came up with that idea, too. … He was very proud of his work. I remember him bringing Batman and other comics home. We had a whole stack of comic books at the house which would probably be very valuable today but have since been lost. He would have us read them and react to them. As kids, we were, of course, thrilled. He was a man with a great sense of humor. He was very smart. He was very worldly to a young kid. He liked opera and classical music and reading the New York Times and travel. He was a sharp dresser, I’d say, very nattily dressed. [Irwin Hasen also described Bill with the ten-dollar word “nattily.”]
Do you remember hearing about his death?
I do. I remember once he had a heart attack. I visited him in the hospital and he told me he was very touched by that.
When was that?
Probably 1970ish, something like that. I probably knew him from the late 50s through [his death in] ’74.
You were how old when you met him?
I was probably thirteen maybe. [this would’ve been 1959]
Do you remember Freddie?
Yes.
How old was he in relation to you?
I think he was a little older than me. I could be wrong about that. I met Freddie maybe once or twice. I really never knew him very well. … [Bill] was everything from showing me how to tie a tie to talking about college. He also wrote for television. When I went to California with my real father (Bill, of course, was stepfather), [he said] I should just drop by one of the Hollywood studios on his behalf just to say hi.
Did you consider him your stepfather?
It wasn’t the type of thing where he was a stepfather from when I was very young. It was more a late-blooming thing. I think they married when I was probably a freshman in college.
Your mom said ’68.
Then it was even later. Then it was when I was a junior or senior in college. [Steve graduated Cornell in ‘68]
Did you and your siblings have a sense of his significance in the comic industry at the time?
I would say we didn’t. And I think also the comic industry as a whole and the people who created it are now looked upon very very differently than they were at that day. I also can remember calling Warner Bros. when the first Batman—my mom wanted me to do this—first Batman movie came out to try and see if we could get Bill credit. I talked to the people there. They acknowledged Bill was instrumental but they weren’t willing to put—for legal reasons—didn’t want to give him credit on the film. I told them I’m not looking for money, I’ll sign a release, but they didn’t want to do it.
You wouldn’t happen to have anything left of Bill’s? Photos, mementos, letters?
I may have a photo. Let me take a look. … [He] talked about how he worked on other characters. I think on Superman, he was pretty instrumental in some of the stuff there. He told me that some of the things Superman is known for he helped create. Was there something called the Green Hornet?
Green Lantern. He co-created him.
Yes, he did that, too. He probably did a lot that Bob Kane took credit for, quite frankly. I don’t think he was paid as much as he should have.
Did he ever talk to you about that? That he was cheated?
I think he once said something to the effect that Bob Kane took more credit than he should have. Put it this way, Bob Kane was getting credit, he wasn’t. Something to that effect. I never heard him talking about not making enough money. Maybe once I did, that Kane got most of the money.
Do you remember him getting asked to write the Superman movie script?
Vaguely. I remember we’d all sit in front of the TV set and watch the television stuff he would write. We’d all be very proud when his name came on at the end. My mom was a friend of Reggie Rose, too, so Bill got to know Reggie. [Rose wrote 12 Angry Men]
You remember nothing more specific about the Superman script?
I do not but I believe that did happen. He worked very hard on this stuff and probably bounced stuff off my mother. My mother was very creative, still is. She’s a great artist. Always has been an artist. My guess is that during all those years Bill would—not all the time—would bounce ideas for comics off of my mother. So in some small way, I can’t give you chapter and verse, I’m sure she contributed a little bit to all of this.
She did say that he would run things by her.
I’m absolutely positive that happened. Another thing I remember is Bill showing me his muscles. He worked out. He was a short, not short short, but relatively short guy. But his muscles, I’d always brag to my friends about how strong his muscles are. He’d make a muscle and me and my young friends would all go—this was when we were 13 or 12—we’d all go feel his muscle.
Do you know why he didn’t serve in the war? Because of his heart?
There was something but I just don’t know. Sorry.
He was not overweight toward the end of his life?
Not that, no. Well, he certainly wasn’t when I saw him in 1970. He was never overweight that I saw. Always very muscular.
Was that the last time you saw him, ’70?
Probably, whenever that heart attack was when I visited him in the hospital.
Was he working [on scripts] in the hospital?
When I saw him he wasn’t.
Lyn was Bill Finger’s companion in the 1960s and his second wife from 1968 to 1971. She was unknown to the comics world before I discovered her.
I interviewed her for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman and am now posting many of those previously unpublished interviews.
Part 1.
Part 2.
Did you happen to know his parents’ names?
No. I know he didn’t talk to them at all.
Were they still alive when you guys met?
Yes. And I used to urge him to. I said for god’s sake, you’re a grown man now. Talk to them. But he just couldn’t. Whatever went wrong there, it couldn’t be made right.
Do you remember him telling you that one or both of them had passed away?
No.
So he wouldn’t have gone to the funerals?
Well, they were alive up until I moved to California. [actually, they died in 1961, within two months of each other]
But you never met them or he never talked to them in your presence?
No.
Why was he not in touch with them?
I don't know. Something was wrong with the relationship. Very wrong. And he just would have nothing to do with them.
Do you have any ideas where I can find out what their names were?
I have no idea where you could find that out. I’m bad at this sort of thing. I think his parents lived in Brooklyn. When we met, Bill was my second husband and I was his second wife. We were both grown up. And we just had a wonderful time together. We had arguments and fights but we always got together. I think about him still. It was for the most part a wonderful relationship.
What was Bill’s work schedule like? His writing schedule?
He worked a lot at night. Sometimes all night. When he worked, he worked very hard and steadily at it. But he didn’t always work very hard. He did miss deadlines. But they knew he was a very good writer for them and they gave the work.
Would he tell you, tomorrow’s a deadline and I’m not going to make it?
Yeah, he would.
What was his attitude?
He would say I have a deadline and I have to meet it. He would be serious about it. He was very serious about his work, but he just had certain weaknesses.
When he was not making deadlines, was he working on the story but just finishing in time, or was he completely procrastinating or distracted?
Both.
So when he was not working, what was he doing instead?
I don't know because if I knew about it, I would be yelling at him.
Did he still golf when you knew him?
No, he didn’t play golf when I knew him.
He used to play earlier. He used to play when he was still in the Bronx.
Maybe that’s where his parents lived, in the Bronx?
They did originally. Have you ever been interviewed about Bill before?
No, I haven’t, although I was in touch with Hollywood at one point because Bob Kane, something had happened with Bob Kane and Batman and I wanted to get Bill in on it. Bill was not alive.
Was this the first movie [1989]?
Maybe so. And they got very interested and then I said I was his wife, then they found I was divorced and that ended it.
So you wanted to try to get him some—
I wanted to get him the notice that he should’ve gotten as part of this. [how close she got]
Did you start that or did somebody contact you to help do that?
I don’t recall. Somebody may have contacted me.
Did you know Bob Kane?
I met him once, I think, at some function.
What was Bill’s opinion of him?
He never talked much about him.
Who were his friends in the comic book industry that you also knew?
Jerry somebody.
Robinson.
Maybe. He knew a lot of science fiction writers. We were both into science fiction. When 2001 came out, we went crazy. We went and got tickets. I don’t remember the names, I’m sorry.
Did he have any working quirks? Certain lucky charm on his desk?
No, he didn’t. When he wrote, he wrote well. I think he went over things a lot. He consulted with the artist.
Do you remember that he appeared at a comic convention in 1965 in New York?
No I don’t. He wouldn’t be good on panels.
Why not?
He wasn’t a good spontaneous speaker. He wasn’t real sure of himself. He could be wonderful personally and in familiar—with friends. But how was he on the panel?
I only have the transcript. [said he was jovial, had sense of humor, not most talkative of the four; I have since gotten the audio recording of the panel]
No. [she asked who other three were, she didn’t know them]
[I said Bill came late and they started without him, she laughed, “That would be Bill.”]
What did he look like?
Very attractive to women. He just had a good face. Sort of bald, was losing his hair. He had thick eyebrows. He had a very broad mouth, very nice mouth. He had lines down his cheeks that were very attractive.
Around his mouth, right?
Yes. He always wore Brooks Brothers shirts. He dressed well.
Anecdotes in relation to his work?
No. He was working, I was working. I was an advertising manager for a company for a lot of years. And Bill worked. We got together when we weren’t working. I slept over in the Village, he slept over—my children would stay with their father on weekends so that’s when Bill would stay over.
[asked about talking to her children, said she’s sure they’ll be happy to talk to me]
Do you think that they realize how important Bill was to comics?
No. They know that he did a lot with Batman. They knew that he had a good reputation. But they were too young.
[told her that since the ‘80s he’s become a legend, one of the most revered but tragic figures in comics, Lyn said that’s wonderful, she’s going to cry, she goes into comic book store every so often to see if there’s anything about Bill Finger, employees thrilled when she says she was married to Bill Finger
says she married about four years after Bill died and that was mistake, knew first husband since 13, his sister was her best friend, married and had three children, grew apart, Bill was my main love, this is very good what you’re doing]
You sound very, very nice. It would be nice to meet you sometime. [we eventually did meet]
[she asked me to think up more questions]
7/5/06
When did Bill and Portia divorce?
Probably the year before [Bill and I got married]. He didn’t get divorced from her for quite a while, which was okay with me because I was getting alimony and child support from my first husband and Bill didn’t have much money. But finally he got his divorce a year or two before we got married.
What do you remember about the Army Pictorial Center?
He wrote training films for them. And he hated it.
Was he still working in comics at the time?
Yes he was.
That was a desk job—he’d go every day?
I’m not sure he went every day. He was living with me on the island. I forget. I don’t think he went every day. Maybe he did. I’m not sure.
Let’s get back to the Superman script story you mentioned.
They asked him to come out to California to write the scripts [sic]. I don’t know if he would have had a writing partner. But he didn’t go.
They called him to do that?
Yeah, he was on the phone with them and they wrote him.
The money wasn’t enough of a motivation?
Oh no. I’m sure it would’ve been a lot of money. But money didn’t motivate Bill that way.
When was that?
It was in the ‘60s. The late ‘60s, I would say. While we were living together. [mentions how he had to take two trains to work] …big change for him to move out to Long Island. When we got married he moved out to Long Island.
Do you remember why he was not drafted? 4F?
Was he 4F?
That’s what I read.
He may have had heart trouble. I know he did have it early on. Something physical, I’m sure. [I later acquired his military record]
Do you remember Freddie being the same age as any of your kids?
When he came over he was very young. Like five or six. Maybe seven. Below ten.
When he came over where?
Great Neck, with Bill. Bill would bring him over to visit and be with my kids. He was overweight and he was very unfriendly, but he was young.
In Great Neck or Roslyn?
This was in my house in Roslyn. I lived there from 1952…no, 1950 to 1964, when I sold it and moved to Great Neck.
[tape cuts out (though we were nearly done anyway); she said she’d like to pay for Bill’s tombstone, and knows her son Steve would want to pay for all of it, she also wants involvement with what’s written on it]
Lyn was Bill Finger’s companion in the 1960s and his second wife from 1968 to 1971. She was unknown to the comics world before I discovered her.
I interviewed her for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman and am now posting many of those previously unpublished interviews.
Part 1.
6/25/06
[first few words cut off but she was saying that she told her son Andrew] that you were going to give Bill the credit that he never got and deserved and Andy said that was great, ‘cause Bill was wonderful to my children.
When did you and Bill marry?
We married quite late, actually. We were together for, I don’t know, 13 years and then we married in 1968.
In Great Neck?
Yes. Then I came out here because of my son and Bill and I got divorced. But we were on the phone all the time and I feel that had he lived, we would’ve gotten together again.
When did you move out there and get divorced?
I moved out in ‘71 and that’s when I got divorced. He had a lot of problem about my moving out. I don’t think you need to know about that.
After you divorced, did he move back into Manhattan?
Yes.
[asked about the article Lyn’s daughter Eve mentioned, she’ll send]
Did you know [Bill’s son] Freddie?
Yes I did. Freddie when he was little used to come out and visit in Roslyn. I had a house in Roslyn, Long Island. That’s where Bill moved when we were married. He was a sort of disturbed young boy.
His wife, I never met her, but I understand she was obese. Bill was rather short and slim and she had a lot of gay friends. I think they may have influenced Fred quite a bit. Bill was pretty upset about that. Bill had faults. He was not too good on the alimony. He was not too good with his deadlines. But he was the kindest man in the world, really. It just beset (?) by his own certain weaknesses. When I first met him and he came out to the house with a whole bunch of comic books, my kids went crazy. He had the early, not the Batman, the ones before that that he was writing. I forget the publisher but the Green Lantern. Bill had first editions that he was selling very happily for five or ten dollars and feeling he was making quite a profit. They probably sell for a couple thousand now.
Some of them would sell for five figures, if they’re in good condition.
Oh my god.
They’re very valuable. You know what else would go for a lot of money? Any memento from the Golden Age. So if Bill had any notes, I know that a lot of that stuff was thrown away, but all that stuff is highly collectible now.
Oh my god. I don’t have any of that.
Do you happen to remember Fred’s middle name?
His real name, his first name was Milton, and he hated that. He changed it to William. And everybody knew him by Bill.
Oh, you’re talking about Bill?
Whose middle name?
Freddie’s.
No, I don’t know.
And Bill’s real first name was Milton?
Yes, but don’t put that in. He didn’t like it. [she later gave permission]
So he was born as Milton William Finger?
No, he just changed it to William. I don’t know whether William was his middle name or he just changed it to William.
As long as anyone knew him, he was Bill.
Yes.
Did he have a middle name?
I don’t know.
[said I’m hoping to find some of his Freddie’s friends]
You haven’t found out where he is?
Well, he’s deceased. He passed away in the late ‘90s.
He died?
Yeah, he died.
Oh my lord. I knew nothing about him after I came out to California. … Was he married?
No, I believe he was gay and I heard he died of AIDS.
[asked if she might have any documents that would show Bill’s middle name]
No. If he had one. I didn’t have a middle name. I don’t think Bill did. We didn’t give middle names in those days. Maybe Freddie had one, I don’t know.
Bill was not in WWII?
No, he wasn’t.
Did he not get drafted?
I guess he didn’t. He didn’t get drafted. He had some problems, maybe some problems, I don’t know what it was. He never talked about it. One thing I wanted to tell you about. Bill and I were on the phone a lot in the years before he died and I was out here. One day I called him and he didn’t answer. I just had a feeling to call him late at night and there was no answer. I thought that’s very strange because he’s always in late at night. So next morning I phoned his friend Charlie who lived in the same building as Bill in New York. And I said take a look in at Bill, see if he’s okay, ‘cause I called last night, he wasn’t there. So Charlie looked in and a little while later he called me back. He said oh my god, you must be psychic, Bill is dead. He had died in his sleep on the couch sometime that night. That was quite amazing and I cried quite a bit.
So Charlie was the one who found him?
Yes. They brought up the manager of the building. My son was having operations and this was his third one that was coming up and I couldn’t go in for anything. He was very very sick, he almost died, so I had to stay with him. I don’t know what happened. His wife called me before this happened.
You mean his ex-wife Portia?
His ex-wife called me and she said that…wait, I may be getting mixed up here. I am getting mixed up. This was before I moved out to California. She was very mean. She called me about how sick Bill—she went to see him, he was sick, he had had something with his heart. I said I didn’t want to hear this, and so she said goodbye, and of course I visited him and he stayed with me when he recuperated, in Roslyn. He was alright but he had had a heart problem before.
You mean you came back from California to visit him?
No, this was before I left for California.
So you divorced and then you moved? You didn’t move first?
No, I moved first. We were in the process of getting the divorce and then I got the papers out here.
Then after ‘71—
We were in touch all the time.
Did you see him after that?
No.
He never came out to visit?
No. Well, he had a kind of reluctance to travel. He had a kind of anxiety about traveling.
I’ve been told that he didn’t drive.
Yeah, he didn’t drive.
Why?
I don't know. He just never got a license and he never drove. He never had a car.
How did he get around in the suburbs, like when he lived in Great Neck?
Well, he took the train into work, which was walking distance from where I lived. Then I drove him around, everywhere.
And it never came up why he didn’t want to drive?
Well, no. (laughs) I think I did tell him to get driving lessons a couple times. And he said I will, I will, I will. And he didn’t.
His reluctance to travel, what did you think—
Some anxiety about it.
You mean like getting on a plane?
Yeah. Leaving his familiar spaces.
Did you ever talk to him about his Batman work and what he thought of his fans? Did he know that he had fans?
No, he never thought of that at all. Not at all. He was very humble, very unassuming. He was just doing comics. He said “I’m a hack writer.”
So he wasn’t proud of his work?
Well, yes he was. He thought he did good work. But he said “I’m a hack writer.”
Did he have aspirations that he was working toward?
No. Well, he may have. I don’t remember that.
He was just content to continue writing comics and not try something else?
Yeah. Well, he and Charlie wrote a movie and they did some television scripts, so he did something more.
Did you read his work before he sent it to the publisher?
Sometimes.
And you gave him suggestions?
Sometimes.
What did he like to do for fun?
He loved theater, which we went to. Ballet we both loved. He loved classical movie and he had a very complicated [stereo] setup that I wasn’t allowed to touch.
Was that in his workspace?
Yeah, and then it was up in my house. Actually, when he moved up, he didn’t move to Roslyn. He stayed there quite a bit. But he moved up to my Great Neck apartment. I had sold the house in Roslyn in 1964. And I was in an apartment in Great Neck.
So he never lived in Roslyn? He just visited.
Yes.
And then he moved to Great Neck—
When he moved from New York he moved to Great Neck.
Did you have wedding photos?
No, we got married by a justice of the peace in Great Neck. We had no photos at all. We weren’t camera people. What he did for fun is we traveled, locally. We didn’t go abroad. We went to the Hamptons, we went to Cape Cod, we went to Maine.
Always by car?
Yes.
He never left the Northeast his whole life?
No, he never did. [I later found out that at least once he made it at least as far as Texas]
Part 3.
Lyn was Bill Finger’s companion in the 1960s and his second wife from 1968 to 1971. She was unknown to the comics world before I discovered her.
I interviewed her for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman and am now posting many of those previously unpublished interviews.
6/23/06
As you probably know, Bill Finger was a major factor in the creation of Batman and never received [official] credit.
That’s right, he was, and he never received enough credit for it. And I feel very badly about that. He was the one—he decided on having the Penguin, giving Batman a cape, and all sorts of different details that I may or may not remember. He was very instrumental in developing the whole image of Batman.
How old are you?
I’m 83. I was born in 1922. Bill was 10 years older than I. [Bill was born 1914]
Tell me what your memories are of Bill as a person and as a creative type.
As a person, he was very, very warm, very sincere, very hard-working, even though he problems meeting deadlines. We were very much in love most of the time. Toward the end it got a little bad. But for the most part he was my big, passionate love affair. We spent enormous amounts of time together. He had a good sense of humor. He was very interested in the theater, and ballet, and classical music. He gave an awful lot of thought to writing. He wouldn’t write any violent comic books.
Did he feel pressure that other people wanted him to write violent stuff?
Well, they would ask him to and he wouldn’t. He was asked to go out to Hollywood to write the Superman script and he didn’t do it. [NOTE: It turned out she was most likely thinking of the 1966 Filmation Superman series of animated shorts.] He liked New York and he didn’t want to leave there. And when we married he was out on Long Island with me but he just held on to the space he had and didn’t like to leave it. So going out to California was a great big step for him.
They asked him to write the script from scratch, or did they want him to edit somebody’s—
I think he would’ve had a partner. I don’t remember—you know, it’s 34 years, or 31 years, since he died. I don’t remember but I know he could’ve gone out and written Superman for the movies. And he just never took up that opportunity. He also worked very hard at getting the right words and the right image for Batman. He worried about it a lot and thought about it a lot. It was real important to him. Personally he was wonderful, I was in love with him, and he was a wonderful guy.
How did you meet?
We met at a friend’s house in the village. She was my friend. It was a couple—they were Bill’s friend and I was there with another friend and we went up to visit. He was there. And that’s how we met.
Do you know what year that was?
Oh God. I would’ve been about 35—that would’ve been 50 years [ago] almost.
When did you two start a relationship?
Right away. We started going out. He called me about two weeks after we met. He took me a foreign film, the first date. Something about the fifth lamb, I forget what it was.
This was in the fifties?
Oh yes.
So he was already divorced from Portia?
No he wasn’t. He didn’t get divorced for a few years.
The first time you lived together was in Great Neck, right?
No, we were together, I lived with him in the Village. We were living with each other on and off. We vacationed together often. We used to go to Cape Cod and up to the Hamptons.
Where did you live in the city?
When I met Bill I was on the island. I have three children.
So you have Eve and Steve…
…and Andy.
Where does he fall, oldest, youngest?
He’s my middle son.
When you lived with Bill in the city was that the 45 Grove Street address?
Oh god…
Or the neighborhood if you can’t remember the address.
No I don’t. He lived alone. I don’t remember that first apartment’s address.
But it was in the Village?
Yeah it was in the Village, it was always in the Village.
That might’ve been the 45 Grove Street.
[said how I went around city and took photos of where he lived]
I think it’s awfully nice that you’re doing this. I’m so happy for Bill that you’re doing it.
Do you have any photos of Bill?
I think I had a couple. I’ll have to look through my books. We weren’t photo people so we just didn’t take many photos.
[she said she had just gotten back from New York and she’s tired so can we continue tomorrow, then: Could you tell me what you said about things you’d do for Bill?]
As I understand it, he was buried on Hart Island so he doesn’t have a gravestone. Do you know about that?
I was in California [when Bill died] and my son was having a very serious operation. He has no gravestone?
I’m almost positive.
Oh god.
The friend of his that told me about you whose name is Charles Sinclair—
Oh yeah! Where is Charles?
In Brooklyn. I could put you guys in touch.
Yeah, I’d like to be in touch with him again.
[she said let’s continue tomorrow, I said if the book does well I’d like to get Bill a proper gravestone and she agreed]
I’m so glad, I’m so glad you’re doing this. I came out here 35 years ago to take care of my son Andrew who had a very bad accident and injured his spinal cord and he’s in a wheelchair so I took care of him out here for 12 years. When Bill died, well that’s another story that might interest you, Charlie said I was psychic, but it was very strange thing that happened, but I’ll talk about that tomorrow.
Part 2.
Irwin Hasen was a comic book artist who co-created Wildcat with Bill Finger. I interviewed Irwin for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman.
Of the eight Golden and Silver Age creators (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin) whose previously unpublished interviews I'm posting, Irwin is the second oldest (after Alvin)—and last one living.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording.
What say you about Bill Finger?
Bill Finger was the greatest guy in the business at the time. A very sad character. He was always late. Always needed money.
What was your first impression of Bill?
A nice guy. We had a lot of common. We became friends. We became very close friends. And he was a very sweet guy.
What did you have in common?
Socially. We’d go out occasionally together. I met with his wife, Portia. We were like buddies.
What was he like when working? Was he making jokes?
A very civilized jokester. He was erudite and very, very smart. He wasn’t clever, but he was smart guy.
What is the difference between smart and clever?
He wasn’t a wiseguy. He was just a low-key, lovely guy. Very serious. And we made each other laugh.
Did he ever talk to you about working on Batman?
No, he never did. We worked on the Green Lantern stories, and of course Wildcat, which he and I both created, with Sheldon Mayer. [Irwin doesn’t read comics today, they can’t tell stories, idol is Alex Toth, and Irwin was Toth’s idol, Toth was 12 years younger than Hasen] I hope I’m not talking too much.
[I said of course not, backed up and told him I’m working on book on Bill Finger for young people]
Really? Good for you. Good for you.
[asked about texture of Bill’s life]
The texture of his life was very [vague?] and fleeting. He was never anchored. He was always in trouble financially.
Were you in touch with him until his death?
No.
Did you hear about his death?
I heard vaguely about his death.
But you didn’t go to his funeral?
No, I didn’t. I didn’t know where the hell it was. I don’t think he had one. He was a very underrated guy. … But Bill lived in obscurity.
So if there’s one thing you want conveyed in a book about him, what would that be?
I would say he was probably the most flamboyant creative artist in the stable of writers. He was short-lived and no one gave him that much credit except after he died. Of all of the writers, he was probably the most creative.
Do you have any photographs of him?
No. Isn’t that funny, I really don’t.
What did Bill look like?
A short man. Very good looking. He looked like a college professor.
Did he wear glasses?
I don’t think so, except probably when he worked.
He was well-dressed?
Always nattily dressed. He looked like an elegant professor.
Did you ever go golfing with him?
No, I never did. I never played golf. I played tennis all my life and he didn’t play tennis. … We drank … We weren’t drunks but we drank. We worked our tail off and when we delivered our work we bumped into each other, that’s all.
[I asked if he has any late night anecdotes about Bill]
No, I don’t. He was very secluded with his wife, Portia. I only saw them together, usually. Bill was a very elusive guy. He was only a couple inches taller than I was.
How tall is that?
I’m 5’2”. He was probably 5’4”.
What about Portia, what did she look like?
Very, very heavy. I don’t want to put her down but she was very heavy. Short. She was delightful. Delightful sense of humor. She and I hit it off beautifully. She and I became more friends than he and I.
Were you in touch with her later in life?
No.
Did you know [Bill’s son] Freddie?
No. … Bill was his own worst enemy. He just couldn’t keep up with deadlines and they didn’t want to pay him anymore.
Do you think that he regretted that he was never more assertive and asked for credit?
Possibly. I don’t know. When I did Wildcat, I insisted—that’s one thing I did nice in my youth—I insisted that his name would be next to mine.
[asked if he gets royalties for Wildcat, said no, Arnold Drake is going after getting credit, Irwin went to DC couple years ago cause Nodell got big sum for Green Lantern, approached Paul Levitz gingerly with articles that say he created Wildcat, DC said Wildcat is not a big thing with them, not busy with it, sort of patted Irwin on the head, said Arnold said they might make Deadman movie, he said “Arnold has dreams,” don’t want to risk that Wildcat becomes big, they send him Wildcat statues that are “disgusting”; after more shootbreezing, said Jerry Robinson most talented guy in the business]
Anything else about Bill?
I can’t tell you—he was an elusive character, that’s all I can say. If you can get something out of that, which could be interesting, by the way, it could be an interesting path. An elusive kind of a chap, elegant, he looked like a guy just out of Yale.
He looked handsome in those photos.
Oh yes.
But some people have said he wasn’t handsome.
He was a good looking. Don’t believe them. He had a lovely and refined looking little face (laughs)—little face, I like the way I talk about him. And he always smoked a pipe. And I loved to make him laugh.
Carmine Infantino was many things to DC Comics over many years. When I was growing up, his greatest significance to me was as the artist of the Flash. Now his greatest significance is that he was a Bill Finger advocate, even before it was trendy to be one.
I interviewed Carmine for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman and he was one of the few people to whom I personally delivered a copy. He passed away in 2013.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen). I just love Carmine’s rat-a-tat style of speaking and his candor.
Thank you again, Carmine. I ought to call you one of the fathers of my research. I wouldn’t be wrong.
How well did you know Bill Finger?
I knew him quite well. He was a lovely man. I came into the company a lot later than the period we’re talking about. I don’t think he was even doing Batman at that point. He was doing other characters at DC.
Tell me what you thought of him as a person.
Wonderful. He was a brilliant writer. I think he created all those villains in Batman. He made Batman, no one else. Kane had nothing to do with it. Bill did it all.
Did he say that himself?
Bill was very upset. Bill had been promised compensation by what-the-hell’s-his-name, Kane. Kane, Kane’s father promised him all kinds of—he never got a nickel out of them, by the way. And also, when Kane settled his suit, he got a million dollars on Batman. And again, Bill got nothing out of that. He ended up doing whatever he could get out of DC. In the original stuff, Bill created all those wonderful villains. He was sensational. He had nothing for it.
Where do you think he was inspired to come up with the things that became signature Bill Finger stuff?
He and Jerry Robinson, there’s an argument about who created the Joker. Bill showed me a drawing—Bill used to go to Steeplechase out in Coney Island, Brooklyn. On there was a character that looked like a joker’s head. Bill went out there one time and Bill showed it to me. He made a copy of that head. And then he said [unintelligible] the villain the Joker. That, the Penguin, the Two-Face, he did them all. Now Jerry Robinson claims the Joker he created, Bill didn’t create that. Who can prove what? I don’t know. Bob claims he saw Conrad Veidt, and that made him create the Joker. So everybody’s created the Joker, but I tend to believe Bill, because [if ?] keep creating characters, and Bill kept creating all those villains, the Penguin, Two-Face, on and on and on. Maybe I’m crazy. Bill died broke.
What did he think of when Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were fighting for their—
He didn’t talk much about that. He may have talked to some other people, but never did it to me. The only thing he was angry about, he talked to me a lot, was Batman. Very angry. He never got nothing out of it. And he was the heart and soul of Batman. He took the character on, he created the kid, Robin, all these characters.
And he was telling you when you in a position of power at DC?
No, no, no. No, no. I was a freelancer. I used to come up there once in a while. There was a room called the writers’ room where all the writers sat and did their work. And we’d hang out there. And they would talk. And of course Billy was very upset. [NOTE: first time I heard anyone call him Billy]
When you guys would sit around in the writers’ room, how did Bill fit in? Was he one of the guys? Did he joke around?
Oh yeah, terrific guy. He sat there, kidded around a lot. He had a problem making money. He had a wife who threw him in jail all the time ‘cause he couldn’t send out the what-do-you-call-it, the divorce money?
Alimony?
He would go into Jack Schiff and say Jack, [unintelligible] he needed a check, always need a check, always running short. He said “My grandmother died,” and Jack said, “She died last week, you told me.” (laughs) He did that all the time. Always short of money.
Did you say jail before?
Yeah, his wife, when he didn’t pay his alimony, she threw him in jail. And they had to bail him out, and then he’d get out and she’d throw him back in again because he didn’t pay alimony. He wasn’t making no money, the poor guy. He had a very sad life. It was unfair what happened to him. Bob walked off with everything, with [$50,000?] a year, plus doing [?] work, and writing. He had the stuff drawn by somebody. He was paying them hardly nothing.
Did Bill have a sense of humor?
Yes. Oh, he was very funny, very funny. He did the Green Lantern, too, he created that too. He was so good. Billy was a very brilliant guy and the sad part of all this, he died broke. And he shouldn’t have.
Did people call him Billy or Bill?
We called him Billy. We were close. We kidded around. Billy had a son, too.
Did you know [Bill’s son] Freddie?
I don’t know much about—I met him once. Arnold Drake knew him a lot better than I did, apparently. I’m sure Arnold’s story coincides with mine.
Did you go to Bill’s funeral?
No. I didn’t know about it at the time. Isn’t that awful?
Does anybody know where he’s buried?
No. I don’t know. Did Arnold know?
No.
Terrible.
Do you have any photos of Bill?
No.
Does anybody?
No. Not that I know of. He was small. He was not tall. He used to go to the gym, he used to work out a lot, I heard.
Did he used to wear a baseball cap a lot?
No. Maybe once in a while but I never saw him at the office with that. No, he liked to dress well. He’d go to Paul Stewart on Madison Avenue. He used to like button-down shirts.
Long sleeve shirts?
Long sleeve. Button-down. Oxford. Blue shirts, he’d buy. He always had new ideas for different strips. He worked for mostly Jack Schiff. I won’t knock Jack but I don’t think he did a great job on Batman. He couldn’t have because it went to hell. He used to imitate what Mort Weisinger did on Superman. [They] had a Supermite, he had a Bat-Mite. Remember all that junk?
What did Bill think of Bob?
He hated him. We all hated him, frankly.
[talks about how Bob Kane complained to Liebowitz about Carmine’s covers; Carmine on Bob: “He was a real sickie, this guy”]
William [NOTE: don’t know why Carmine switched from “Billy” to “William”—something else no one else called him!] is a genius. I tend to think he created the Joker, too. If the other guys created the Joker, why didn’t they create more villains? Am I right or not? Billy created not only that, but Penguin, Two-Face, he kept coming up with them one after the other. Bill got screwed, period and simple.
[Carmine said Bill’s son died too, Carmine asked if he was gay, even though I already explained why I was interviewing him he asked if I’m writing a thesis, he asked how Boys of Steel did, I said it hadn’t come out yet, tells how Jerry Siegel and his wife and kids used to go to Great Neck to Donenfeld’s, march up and down in front of house with sign “He robbed me,” Irwin used to invite kids in, feed them, and send them out, Carmine never met Jerry and Joe, tells me how Joe was mugged leaving the movie house, got beat up pretty badly]
What would you to be conveyed about Bill in this book?
I think Billy was a frickin’ genius. If it wasn’t for him, Batman would be nothing. Bob created a character, period. But Bill gave it soul. And then he created all those wonderful villains which really gave it its body. He was a genius.
[he talks about a group that used to get drinks, Bill didn’t go that often, mentioned the writers’ room]
This writers’ room, was it just—
—it was just a room, it was nothing special. But that’s where they hung out, they did their writing. A freelancers’ room.
Was it a room where they actually wrote or they just hung out?
They did some corrections there.
There were desks?
Yeah, there were desks. What they did sometimes, at the end, they’d give them changes, so they’d go back in there, and there’s typewriters there and they make some changes and bring them back in. The actual writing they did at home.
Rows of desks, nothing on the walls, just very plain?
No, it was very plain.
With windows?
No. I remember it was a side room.
[thanked him, complimented him, other wrap-up business, told him he gave me details no one else did, he asked like what, I said blue shirts, writers’ room]
He was meticulous about his clothes, by the way. Brooks Brothers, he was a freak for Brooks Brothers. He loved their suits. He’s used to always wear the tie and the shirt.
He wore a tie when we was working?
Yup, yup, yup, yup, yup. He always wore a tie.
Even when he was home?
I don’t know about home, but I know in the office.
Did everybody wear ties though?
No, no. One thing about Bill, I know he wore a shirt and tie most of the time. … He was too nice a man. The guy was a brilliant man. And he got shoved up, well…
Well, the best we can do is keep talking about him.
I know. I’m glad somebody’s writing about him. You ought to call it The Father of Batman. You wouldn’t be wrong.
Arnold Drake was a writer who co-created DC Comics characters Deadman and the Doom Patrol; both will star in a movie or TV show before long. He was also a compatriot of Bill Finger, so I interviewed Arnold for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman. Arnold passed away less than a year later; this may be the last interview he gave.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen).
What was Bill Finger’s personality like?
He was a complicated guy. (pause) You know a good deal about his talent, obviously.
Yes. There’s a lot about his Batman work but I haven’t yet found much on his texture as a man, as a person.
I never got very close to him because frankly I was kind of wary of being too close to him. The man was deeply troubled and a decent enough guy but a guy who with all of his talent really didn’t believe in himself. I stayed away because he reminded me too much of things within myself and I didn’t want to get too close to that. I tried to be friendly but I never became a friend as such. His marriage was not a good one. I don’t think his relationship with [his son] Freddie was great but I’m not even sure about that.
When you say he was troubled, in what sense?
Depression, I guess. I think he was a lifelong depressive. I think it had something to do with what in those days we used to treat as a kind of joke, which was his inability to meet a deadline. And the reason for that I think was that he was a perfectionist, which is the other side of the coin of not believing in yourself, kind of. If you’re enough of a perfectionist, you’re going to throw doubt into yourself, you have to, because we don’t any of us turn out perfect product. So you’re going to keep meeting with disappointment and no matter how happy the editor may be you walk away not feeling satisfied. And I think that that constantly happened to Bill. And I think that explains why he keep missing the dates that he had on his stuff, his deadlines, because I think he rewrote and rewrote.
Did you ever see him in a social setting?
Again, not really. He invited me into it several times and I kind of turned away from it and I’m awfully sorry now that I did. I knew some of the people he hung out with, I knew that part of town. He lived in the Village most of his life. [talks about how he knows the Village, how costs skyrocketed and upper middle class moved in and chased artists and writers out, who then moved to the East Village, and the upper middle class followed them almost instantly to the East Village and chased them out of there as well] If Bill were alive today, he would probably be living either under the Brooklyn Bridge or out in Hoboken ‘cause that’s where the artists and writers have gone, again to escape the Manhattan real estate prices.
Do you think he was proud of his Batman work?
I think he was but I think he took it for granted almost. I think he took great pride in almost anything he did. Could be wrong. He was very diligent in his fashion. Took copious notes. He had books full of notes on his characters on ideas that he had and titles that he had.
They were like notebooks?
Yeah.
Did you ever see his workspace or his apartment?
No.
Do you know if he ever read fan mail about Batman?
I don’t know that the editors shared it with him. I think that there was a pretty clear attempt to keep the writers and artists from being in contact with their fans, with their audience. The fans had to find ways of knowing who they were and where they were because DC was not interested in any kind of contact. They didn’t want the writers and the artists to know each other too well. That worked to their advantage. [talks about his attempt to start a writers/artists guild] Finger was involved with us in that. He was one of the organizers in that.
Was he good at that kind of thing, organizing?
Not particularly but he was somewhat enthusiastic about it. I would guess he was a political progressive, so the idea of building a guild made sense to him. A lot of the artists were socially politically conservative. So their attitude was “We’re not workers, we’re artists. Workers join guilds, not artists.” When I would point out to them that the Screen Writers Guild—of which I’ve been a member since something like 1964—had organized all the good screenwriters and that the first ones to join were the most successful ones, they just didn’t want to listen to that kind of junk. Years later, after I left DC there was an [unintelligible]. [talked a bit about how writers/artists have made gains in last 20 years but still need to do more because they’re not organized, can be taken away from them]
Do you know if Bill was discouraged from telling people that he was writing Batman?
I don’t know. When they would give you a rate increase they would ask you not to tell other writers and artists that you had gotten the increase, so I think probably they told him they would not like him to [leave?] that around. Of course they allowed Kane to take credit over and over. He signed his work, he signed other people’s work and called it his and became famous for being the father of Batman. But he was no more the father of Batman than Finger was.
Do you think they should share credit?
Oh, absolutely.
Do you think Finger deserves more than Kane?
I think Finger probably does, but nevertheless I think that they should share the credit. Finger’s been established within the field. I think people know what Kane was, which was pretty phony.
Did you know him too?
I knew Bob very well.
Did you talk with him about Bill about Bill had died?
Yes. It was only after Bill died that Kane was willing to talk about how important Bill was to the Batman legend.
But never so far that he would change his contract to include Bill’s name?
No. He did make public statements. He would stand in front of a crowd of people and say Bill Finger was a major contributor, but he would not say Bill Finger was one of the creators. He just said he made an enormous contribution.
Can you think of any anecdotes about him as a person that might be interesting to younger people?
His background, like many of us from that same generation, a lot of it was in early science fiction. I’m sure he was an avid reader of Jules Verne and A. Conan Doyle and H.G. Wells and the Americans who started coming in in the 1920s in the science fiction pulps. I think he was a big science fiction pulp reader. I don’t know that he wrote any of that stuff. I got in on the tail end of it.
Were you in touch with Bill shortly before his death?
No, I’d been out of DC for a while at that time, so I was not in touch with him at that point. What did he die of?
I believe it was a heart attack. Do you remember hearing about it at the time?
I didn’t know until a little while later. It seems to me I was at his funeral, if I recall correctly. There were like three funerals within a few years of each other. Finger, and Miller, one of the editors—freelance writer who became an editor, and who was the other…
Do you know where Bill was buried?
I think he’s got a military grave but I’m not sure because I’m not sure that he served. I don’t know if Bill served or not. Do you know?
I haven’t seen that he did.
Seems to me he did not.
So you don’t know where his—
No, I don’t know where he’s buried.
Do you know anybody who would know that?
I don’t know anybody who might. Well, there’s one possibility and that’s [onetime writer/editor] George Kashdan [NOTE: neither of us knew at the time, but Kashdan had died on 6/3/06—five days earlier]. But George is in a recovery house kind of place out in California. [Arnold did lot of work for George] Bill died…Freddie came around and tried to get some money out of the company, which is disturbing to realize that they had given Finger so little and that his kid was coming around begging. I think he may have gotten a few bucks. But on his way out, he stopped to chat with me briefly, and he mentioned that he had sold some of his father’s comic book collection. And I said who did you sell it to? So he said, well, you know there are quite a few people who are beginning to collect those things. Now that was new. What year did you say Bill died?
‘74.
This was probably ‘75. In ‘75, that was fairly new. Thirty years ago there weren’t too many people who were beginning to…I’m sure there were a number of people who collected it but did not think of it as being a very active area, marketplace, what have you. But when Freddie told me that, this was when I began to save comics. Up to that point, I’d been giving them to my kid who learned to read from them, and then when she was done with them, I would chuck them. But when Freddie said, no it’s beginning to be a marketplace, I started to save my stuff. I got about 800 books now.
So you don’t have the originals of your first Deadman or Doom Patrol stories?
Yes, I do. I don’t have the manuscripts. I have the original magazines.
Did Freddie look like Bill?
No he didn’t. Freddie was heavier. Bill was always pretty skinny. I don’t know that Bill ate too well. Maybe Freddie ate a little too much. Freddie died young.
I read that he died of AIDS. Do you know if that’s true?
I think that’s probably true.
Was he gay?
Yeah.
Do you know if Bill had siblings?
I haven’t heard of any.
I suppose you don’t know anything about Bill’s parents?
No. I assume that Bill was Jewish.
But it wasn’t a factor that manifested itself?
I don’t think he had any real religion, no. It was a period of being irreligious. First World War, the Depression, all of that that came with it made that generation ask a lot of questions. One of the questions was, why is God letting something like this happen unless maybe there is no God? So I think Bill went through that. It was the intellectual position.
What year were you born?
1924.
You’re a bit younger than him.
I think he was born in ‘14. [yes]
Are you still in touch with any of the guys from your era in the comics industry?
I’m in touch with Alvin [Schwartz], I’m in touch with George Kashdan, as I said. I’m in touch with Carmine Infantino. We have dinner every couple of weeks.
What else do I know about Bill…when Bill was looking for an idea for Batman, one of the tricks that he used was to open up the Yellow Pages in the phone book and just kind of ripple through it. Where his fingers stopped he’d say, “Piano tuner…I wonder if there’s a story in a piano tuner?” And another thing he would do is sit on a bus and drive through the city and look at the signs, the store signs. And all of these were springboards, ways of getting off the ground with something that might never occur to him otherwise. Every writer has his own tricks.
[I said shame those gimmick books gone, Arnold said Freddie might’ve sold them, was pretty desperate, I said they’d be valuable today]
Are you feeling okay?
I’ve had a little trouble with my balance. As you get older, it doesn’t get better. I don’t do a hell of a lot of walking, which is unfortunate because it used to be one of my favorite activities. Now three or four blocks is probably it for me.
[Arnold lived in Manhattan since got married 1951]
Anybody who wrote in that period as I did, they’re not wealthy. They made so much money off of us.
[Arnold relayed how he had just drawn up contract with DC about Deadman and his other characters in case they make movies/shows; he approached them, not the other way around; said his name doesn’t now appear on his creations but it will soon; if you fight for it they’ll do it; took them four months to agree; almost more adamant about the “created by” than the money itself; most concerned about Deadman and Beast Boy, his hottest characters; would be very interested to know if my book comes to pass; he has been doing interviews with people like me for well over 35 years and has collected more than 20 of them and they might form spine of book of his own]
Joe Kubert was a legendary comic book artist most associated with Hawkman and Sgt. Rock. I interviewed Joe for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman. He passed away in 2012.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen).
What was your relationship with Bill Finger?
I don’t pretend to have been a deep friend or anything like that. I can tell you my acquaintanceship was one purely on a professional level and as a matter of fact was also colored by the fact that he was quite a bit older than I. I think I was, when I was first did these things, I think I was about 16 or so, where he was an adult and probably in his late twenties and there was a wide difference in our approaches and in our backgrounds as far as personalities were concerned. He was a nice guy. As you’ve already probably found out, Marc, he had many problems, one of which I brushed up against, which was his not being able to hold onto any of his money. He was always, always in debt. And I learned this to both his and my chagrin simply because he had borrowed money from me and that was after he had done work and the fact that he had even asked me, I was so impressed (laughs) to be able to help him out was a pleasure for me. But that led to a lot of problems.
When was that?
(pause) That was before the war. That was probably in the early ‘40s. Before the war, probably 1940. That was when I was doing Hawkman, things like that. I started out as a kid doing that kind of stuff and Bill was the writer. At that time the property was owned by, oh what was his name, by Gaines, by M.C. Gaines. It was called All-American Comics. Eventually All-American Comics sold out to DC and all those properties became DC’s, which included the Flash and Hawkman and a lot of others of that type of character. During the time that it was owned by Arnold, by Gaines rather, was the time that I was doing the illustrating and Bill had done some of the stories. Now the situation was of course that no writer was assigned specifically to any one of the characters. Whenever they had time they were called in by the editor or they came in looking for work and the editor gave them whatever the next job was, whatever the next deadline that was coming up that had been written and drawn. And that’s the way it worked for most of us, to both writers and artists. It was during that time that Bill did some of the Hawkman stories. I had met him, I had known him, he was a nice guy. But again, as I said, there was no really any kind of deep personal relationship at all.
He borrowed money that he couldn’t repay?
What happened was, I had gotten a check. And the money [came] hard to all of us, but I was a kid and I had no need of money simply because the way I grew up, all the money that I made, all the money that I earned, immediately went into the family pot, which was fine, which was the way it was supposed to be. And so the money held little significance for me except for the fact that if I needed it, I had it, but mostly it was used for the family purposes. I had received a check and apparently Bill knew that I got the check that day or he was in the office at the same time, and he said, “You know, Joe, I could use some dough, I need some money.” I said “Sure, how much do you need?” I think it was $2-300 he needed at the time. This was a lot of money at that time. I said sure. As a matter of fact, I think he asked me for $200 and I asked him if it was enough. And he said, “Well, if you can squeeze out another fifty…” I said sure. “And I’ll pay you back next week.” [something unintelligible, with a chuckle] …standard line. He held off paying me until I finally got out of the army ten years ago [think he meant “later”] and had a, I put people on, I got so angry at this, ‘cause I had contacted him a couple of times, it was hard to track him down. But eventually I got an agency, a collection agency, to go after him, and I think eventually, I did get—but I don’t really recall. [It was a mostly?] sad relationship with Mr. Finger.
Did you talk to him after that?
The only time that I had really seen Bill was when we happened to come together when we went up to the company to pick up a job or something like that. So I didn’t really have an opportunity to get to know him too well. I had heard all kinds of stories about him and it was only after I lent him the money that people said to me, the older guys would say to me “You did WHAT? You lent him WHAT?” He had had that kind of reputation and I knew nothing about that.
Money aside, what sense of his personality did you get or what stories have you heard about his personality?
He was a very pleasant guy. He was a very bright guy. I understand that, I don’t know if you’re, I understand why you’re asking these questions for the purpose of the book that you’re doing, but I’m afraid that all the information that I had about him and the small experience that I had with him were not really upbeat or really good ones. He was a good, he was a nice guy as far as I knew. But I didn’t know him that well. The stories that I heard about him, afterwards, was you never lend him any money. He had some problems—I think he was divorced from his wife, he had problems, I understood, I learned later, he had problems with his wife, ex-wife and kids, all that kind of stuff.
Do you think that his work is a fitting legacy for him, or do you his personal problems tarnished that too much?
I don’t think that his personal problems tarnished the work that he was doing at all. Everybody that I’ve spoken to, everybody that knew him, including myself, admired the kind of work he did. It was a pleasure to illustrate his stories. His stories, the way he wrote his stories, the material that he wrote only enhanced the ability of anybody who was illustrating it. This medium that we work in, the comic book medium that is, is one where unless the writer has a mind for graphics, some idea of what the picture should like towards which he’s writing his script, very often the story can be very slow-paced, very boring. But Bill was capable of writing the kind of story that was intelligent. He tried to figure out little gimmicks, little ideas. I recall one sequence in a Batman story where Batman was in a hole that was dug out for him, almost like a grave-like kind of thing, and there was a huge stone that was placed over the area that was dug out and he was underneath. He could not move that stone. It was so heavy. But what he did was, he had, I think he had some pencils or some round objects, perhaps, like bullets or something like that, and wedged them underneath the stone in order to make it roll. So that instead of actually trying to do it with brute strength, he used his head a little bit. It was gimmicks like that that Bill was really terrific in working out and made it a little bit more unusual, a little bit more interesting, a little bit more interesting in terms of the graphics as well.
Do you think that he knew that he was good? Did he get any positive feedback from anybody?
I don’t think so. I think that his personal problems really got in the way of the kind of relationship that he would’ve had with his editors. I think that he always felt, how shall I say, perhaps a little bit obliged, perhaps a little bit owing, perhaps a little bit too willing to take a little bit of abuse from these guys simply because the jobs and the money that he got from it was so important to him. They really took advantage of him to that degree.
What did he look like? There are so few photos of him out there.
He was not a tall guy. He was not a big guy. I would say in retrospect I think he was probably around, I would say about 5’7” or 5’8”. But he was well-built, he wasn’t, he didn’t go to fat or anything like that. I understood he played a lot of tennis and he was into a lot of sports. Kind of sandy-haired. Not tan but nice complexion, a ruddy complexion, and very pleasant to talk to, very pleasant.
Was he handsome?
I would not call him handsome, but he was a pleasant-looking guy. His features were clean cut. I don’t remember offhand, he didn’t wear glasses as I remember, but I do remember his features were rather even and well-balanced. In other words, his nose was not too big, his face…he’s the kind of a guy that if you looked at him and caught a glimpse of him, you would say “This looks like a pleasant guy.” But there was nothing remarkable about him to cause you to remember really what he looked like. His hair was kind of sandy, not full—combed and cut in the style of the day of that time, which meant that it was kind of short and well kept. He was a clean-looking guy.
Do you know anybody who might have a photo of him or even a drawing?
Gee, I don’t know. I haven’t been able to find any…
[a passage I didn’t transcribe when I explain why I need images and he suddenly remembers one person who might have some but can’t remember the name, only that he did more art than Bob Kane…it was Jerry Robinson, “he saves a heck of a lot”]
In the late ‘30s, early ‘40s, was it the tradition that people would still dress up for work, wear ties?
Not formally, but certainly not the way we’re dressing today. He would usually wear…everything except the tie. Yes, he would wear a jacket very often, but it would be like a sport jacket, not a suit jacket, really.
[I said I got impression guys would put on a tie even when working from home and he said no]
Do you know anything about his relationship with Bob Kane?
No. As a matter of fact at that time I didn’t even know Bob—I met Bob Kane only shortly before he passed away.
Do any other stories that you’ve heard about Bill come to mind that you haven’t talked about yet?
Only that which I’ve told you and I would hesitate to repeat too many of the stories that I might’ve heard fleetingly. Again the guy I think that would probably know much more about things would be Jerry.
[I thanked him]
My pleasure. Not at all. Anything that I can help anybody who is making any sort of an effort to do anything along the lines that comic books or to enhance what we’re doing, I’m for it.
Part 1.
Part 2.
Were you Bill [Finger]’s best friend?
Bill had a variety of best friends. I think Jerry was a good friend of his at that time. I wouldn’t say that I was his best friend. There were times when we were very close and times we didn’t see each other. I don’t know if Bill had any best friends except from time to time, I know toward the end Jerry Robinson was hanging around there. I know Jerry. He had no need for Bill. Jerry was a self-sufficient artist. He was good. And he’d have only one reason for hanging around and that would’ve been the bimbo that Bill was living with. This was very typical for Bill. Bill would be in love with somebody who wasn’t interested in him at all, who was using him. It wasn’t the first time. And Bill had no ability to understand or relate to women. In other words, he’d never sort of gotten into his manhood. I was embarrassed—she came on to everybody including me.
They were still married when he died?
Who?
Bill and this bimbo.
I do not know. See, I come back and I suddenly find he’s been dead for years. My natural inclination was, who would know really, Portia would know where Bill is. Of course she did.
Were you in touch with Portia and Freddie after Bill died?
No.
Why did Bill never learn to drive?
Good question. I don’t know. Nobody ever answered that question, or asked him. The point is, he never learned to drive. I could give you a psychological answer. [He could never?] take charge, of himself or…a driver’s license is an assertion of manhood, of independence. Bill married Portia as I understand it, as I saw it, to get away from his parents most of all. His parents used to exploit the hell out of him, take his checks, and that was it.
While he was still living at home?
Yes.
And then he moved out eventually though.
He left with Portia.
Was it common at the time for people to not have a driver’s license in New York?
It was pretty uncommon to go through life without a car or a driver’s license. Bill could never escape or go anywhere. He did move out to the suburbs for a while when he had that awful job cataloguing stuff for I think it was a municipal outfit that he was working for. It was a real drudge job.
He wasn’t working in comics at the same time?
He wasn’t working in comics then. He’d been pushed out.
So that was near the end?
He couldn’t deliver. This withholding of the work, being unable to deliver on time, the editors couldn’t wait. It wasn’t that they were mean. They tried to help him. At least Jack Schiff did and Jack understood his problems. But when you have deadlines to meet and major stuff to go out, you’ve got to get it out somehow. If you still can’t deliver you have to give it to somebody else.
Did anything make Bill excited? When he came up with a really good story?
Oh sure. We’d jump around in excitement. We both—all of us, the whole gang, all the comics writers were like that.
Did he feel that he was missing out on something, that his name was not on there and he couldn’t tell people that he was the writer?
Oh, I think he—I’m trying to think of when or where he specifically acted that way. It was just generally known that that was the case. They were doing that to everybody.
A writer at DC, because some of the editors were very decent, that was Whit Ellsworth, if any writer needed money or wanted to borrow, we could borrow enough to buy a house anytime and pay it back in small amounts from his subsequent scripts. And that was something that Whit Ellsworth initiated and that son of a bitch Mort Weisinger afterwards couldn’t stand the idea of the writers being treated so well. I guess you’ve heard enough about Mort Weisinger.
[thanked him, said my goal is make Bill come alive]
He’s a hard one to characterize in a way. There aren’t many Bill Fingers. He had an unusual talent. He was very sharp and focused on one thing. And he could work on any kind of gimmick related story as we worked on Mark Trail, on other things.
Do you remember his reaction to becoming so popular and seeing the Batman movie serials or Batman merchandise?
I don’t know if I was there anymore by that time. I left in 19…let’s see, when did I leave for Canada? I walked out…I invented Bizarro. That was the last thing I did. I walked out in 1957.
What about Bizarro? Do you get royalties for Bizarro?
No.
‘Cause he’s everywhere.
I know he’s everywhere. I went through the idea of a lawsuit at first and then decided after some thought that in a certain way DC had really done well by me as far as I was concerned, considering the times and so on. And after all, yes, the Bizarro was everywhere, but going through court—I did have a lawyer, and I did get a response, and we were about to—I would’ve joined a whole host of other guys who were lined up trying to collect from DC.
Was that in the ‘60s?
It wasn’t so long ago, as a matter of fact. I was living here. I received letters from Levitz telling me, he sent me a copy of the Bizarro doll that they made with a note saying “The son wants to sit on the shelf of his father,” as much as acknowledging completely that I was the creator. They do acknowledge it now. But I told Paul I don’t want to get in line with all these other guys. I’m very happy with what I’m doing. I had some good times doing…I think in many ways, considering that I was able to buy a house, that I could always borrow money, that I didn’t do so badly and that was the nature of the business in those days. Nobody was trying to rob me, except maybe Mort Weisinger. So on the whole I decided I’m not going to make an issue of it. There were ways in which there could be some question about it because it was a spinoff of Superman and I know enough about law to realize that the question of trademark could easily come into it. It wasn’t wholly my invention, in other words. It was a takeoff on Superman. So I decided I’m not going to get into this, I have no time to waste for that.
Are you in touch with anybody who’s at DC now, besides Paul Levitz?
As a matter of fact I’ve been to San Diego. I’ve been invited to San Diego to receive the Bill Finger prize. I just won it.
[congratulated him]
Arnold [Drake] and I are good friends. We talk to each other often. He’s my major contact right now. I talk to Levitz. I went back to comics a little while ago, a couple of years ago, I got a call from DC, they asked me to write the main piece in the Bizarro book, which I did. Two years ago I wrote a Bizarro story. It’s in the new Bizarro book, or the last one they put out.
[he gave me Arnold’s phone number, Arnold lost his wife, has every illness under the sun from bad heart to valves, should’ve been dead long ago, he’s 81 years ago, he carries on, he’s incredible, he’s quite heroic in my mind, not a great intellectual but strong personality; Alvin had to turn down San Diego, getting too old, I’m 89, hardening of the arteries, my wife has problems, it’s just too hard, but besides seeing old friends would prefer to stay home]
Part 1.
Let me go back to Bill [Finger]’s home for a minute. Did you ever go over there when he was working and see what his workspace looked like?
Oh, yeah, I’ve been in Bill’s place many times.
What was it like?
Ordinaire. Pretty plain. It wasn’t sloppy or anything. He kept his files meticulously. Enormous files.
Was that like a filing cabinet?
Yes, he had it all in—well, you’ve heard about his famous gimmick book?
Yes.
All that stuff was sort of pulled together. I’m trying to remember whether it was in book form or files or what. But in general, Bill was a neat man, personally. He was tidy. He was not very sloppy. He was always well dressed, clean.
Did he have a special place that he would work in his house?
Can’t tell you that. Most of the time, we were just talking and walking just back and forth if we took the typewriters.
Remingtons, right?
So he sets the typewriter anywhere, on a table or with a chair.
Was Bill Jewish?
Yes.
Was that important to him?
Um…I didn’t get the feeling that it was any more than it was so important to me at that time. [sic]
So it wasn’t a factor in his life really?
No, not that I know of.
Were you in touch with Bill for his whole life?
I was in touch with Bill up until he married this dingbat, this bimbo. He was always looking for a romance. He was always in love with somebody who wouldn’t look at him. He married Portia, he wasn’t happy with her, but Portia took care of him and she was the real man of the family. She ran things. I don’t know what the hell he would’ve done without her. She was a good woman. She was not that attractive. She was fat and she was bossy and she had to be.
Bill remarried someone?
He remarried later on. I discovered—I was by this time long gone from comics but I kept in touch with Bill. I was [unintelligible] big stuff in the market research world. I’ve left comics—I figured this is not a place to make a living. I was miserable working for Mort Weisinger. Comics were down very much at that time. I sort of jumped into something else, maybe even using my comics skills. [talks about his successful career in advertising]
At that time, you did not stay in touch with Bill?
As a matter of fact I did stay in touch with Bill. I visited. Now when I moved to Canada in 1968, I didn’t see Bill for some—I had seen Bill at his apartment and Jerry Robinson was always hanging around. And this bimbo that Bill had married was making passes at me. And I know she was making passes at Jerry. She was making passes at any man who walked into that place. Bill didn’t know it. What are you going to do, tell him? Now I have very uncomfortable feelings about what Jerry was doing there. Now by the way I want to say that Jerry’s artwork is something I’ve always admired. Jerry as a person I really don’t know so I don’t have too much to say. He was there quite frequently toward the last—when I left to go to Canada. Well, I’m still in Canada. I came back after eight years and the first person I wanted to see was Bill. I knew right away he probably couldn’t be married to that bimbo anymore so I called Portia. And Portia said “Didn’t you know that Bill has been dead for the last x number of years?” I think five years, she said. Now I knew Bill was having heart problems. I knew about the first attack. I knew about his chicken soup, which was his idea to cure—he couldn’t drink strong coffee. I didn’t drink at work but a lot of us did.
What did you say about chicken soup? I didn’t get that.
Bill regarded chicken soup as the best picker-upper. [He ate?] loads of it. He had to be careful with his heart. I was there at the time of the first heart attack, but I was not there—I missed his—I didn’t know about his death because we didn’t correspond.
Was the chicken soup just after his heart attack?
No, he’d always sort of gone into that. He wasn’t a drinker. He didn’t do it the way most of the other guys did.
You were actually with him when he had his first attack?
No, I was not. He told me about it in detail but I wasn’t there.
Was Bill living in Manhattan when he died?
Yes.
Do you know anything about his funeral? Did people go?
I don’t know anything about it because all I got was from Portia. I had a double shock. When I called Bill I found out he was dead.
Do you know where Bill is buried?
I have no idea. [None of those things?] was I involved in.
Do you have any photos of him?
No I don’t.
Do you know if anybody does?
Nope.
[then talks about how he lived in two worlds, literary and comic book, says the people in that essay he wrote where he and Bill were plotting a Plastic Man story were his friends, not Bill’s]
Was Bill jealous of that?
No, Bill wasn’t jealous of that. We didn’t discuss it much. He himself was always interested in literature, but he never got involved in that world and he wasn’t writing anything that would lead him into it. But I lived in these two different worlds. But Bill’s world was pretty much the comic book world. Bill and I tried to do some other things. We worked on The Mark Trail Show. I have an old script that Bill and I did. That was a radio show.
Do you have anything else of Bill’s as a memento?
All I have is that. It’s on the shelf looking at me.
If there was one thing that you would want conveyed in a book about Bill, what would it be?
I don’t think I can boil it down to that. That’s a journalistic—I would have many things to say in many different ways. I can’t answer that. How do you sum up somebody you cared about, have partial relationship with? Bill in a way was my connection with the comic book world although I didn’t get into comics through Bill. In fact, I met Bill because I had a friend who was in comics who lived in the same apartment house and we all were friends together. Got to know each other. It became a gathering place. And that was John Small who was an artist who worked for Fairy Tale Parade. He’s the one who actually got me into comics.
Was that in Greenwich Village?
That was in Greenwich Village.
Are there any anecdotes about Bill particularly that stick out in your mind fondly?
I think I’ve given them to you.
Anything that you haven’t said? A little moment in passing that defines him in another way?
Well, I remember the fact that when he did come out to visit when he was in this terrible condition, he had Freddie with him. Portia had to do something and he had to look after Freddie. And we went out on an expedition. We took our kids, and every once in a while we had to stop, tie Freddie’s shoelaces, and pull up his pants. And Freddie was about six or seven at this time. And Bill—it wasn’t that he wasn’t paying attention to him. He just wasn’t fatherly enough to think of these things, he didn’t know about being a father. And so Portia had taken over the entire role. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about him. He did.
Part 3.
Alvin Schwartz was a writer most associated with Superman and Batman; he penned the first Bizarro story. I interviewed Alvin for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman.
Alvin was the only person I talked to who allegedly knew why Bill was declared 4-F during World War II, but to respect the privacy of his friend, he would not reveal the reason (and the official military record doesn’t, either).
He passed away in 2011.
Here is how Alvin responded when I asked if I could interview him:
From: Alvin Schwartz
To: Marc Tyler Nobleman
Sent: Saturday, June 03, 2006 7:14 PM
Subject: Re: Hi Alvin - Bill Finger (the award and the man)
Dear Marc:
Before I allow myself to be interviewed, understand that I knew Bill very well. You will discover this if you go to the second reference in my currently running column which offers a detailed, if relatively short, review and analysis of Bill. It contains about all I can freely tell you, unless you can convince me that you have the skills and capacity of a good biographer and can understand the deeper motivations that made Bill what he was and not merely because it would be timely to write a Finger biography. There are depths to his relationship with Freddie that I know about that go beyond his taking his son to the zoo and other sentimental hogwash like that. Bill was not a good father. He had problems being a grownup himself—expressed in some ways by his never having owned or driven a car and other details. But read my column and you’ll understand my reluctance to discuss Bill with a potential biographer who may not be equipped to do the job. Besides, I don’t think there’s any kind of children’s story in this. Understand—I’m not being grumpy—just protective of a very good friend.
Alvin Schwartz
Somehow I did manage to convince Alvin. The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen).
Tell me about Bill and Bob.I suddenly remembered that I knew Bob Kane way back in elementary school, my first class, 1A. My mother sneaked me in early, I was under six. And there was this tall, handsome kid, who was as dumb as hell, was always occupying the dunce seat, sitting in front of the class on a dunce stool with a dunce cap on his head. His name was Robert Kahn at that time.
And that was in New York?
That was in P.S. 28, in the Bronx, the west Bronx.
I understand that you also went to DeWitt Clinton. Is that right?
I did.
Did you know Bill in high school?
No, I didn’t. I didn’t know him in high school. I was really separated out. I was part of the Clinton News and Magpie, the literary magazine. I don’t think Bill would’ve [been?] there at all. Or had any connection. They were very literarist, T.S. Eliot and Gertrude Stein and the European literati and the critics.
How would you describe Bill’s personality?
His normal personality was affable. He was pleasant. I would say very positively. There was nothing about his personality that turned people off. People didn’t dislike him for anything that I know about. He was always friendly, helpful, almost too much so. I’d see him angry but he’d tend to get more petulant, like a… He could never really express true anger in a manly way. He seemed very much the exploited kid, exploited by his parents, he never really got over that. And mostly…you know what passive-aggression is? Bill’s withholding, his lateness, to go back to a very discredited Freudian idea, it was a proposed explanation for a certain kind of constipation, for example. His inability to get work out on time, his diddling with it instead of actually sitting down and working with it, his inability to act independently other than in his fantasy life. For example, the fact that he didn’t drive a car. He never had a driver’s license. The only thing that he ever did was play golf.
How did he get there?
I don’t know that story but it wasn’t very hard where we lived. There were links in Van Cortland Park that didn’t cost very much. It wasn’t a fancy club. It didn’t require any membership fees. And Bill, I don’t know how good he was, but he certainly had the body and the shoulders for it.
What did he look like?
I used to say Bill was built like a top. He had very broad shoulders. He was a short man. I’m a short man. He seemed to taper to small feet.
So he was kind of developed?
He seemed kind of developed, yes. But I don’t think he was an exercise nut. The only thing he did was play golf.
Would you describe him as handsome?
No. He wasn’t handsome. He wasn’t unattractive. There was something not male enough about him. I’m not saying he was gay or anything like that. He wasn’t. He was more infantile than anything. Ultimately, I mean his behavior—he didn’t behave in an infantile way normally. He was affable, as I said, he was friendly, he was intelligent in that he had acquired amount of cultivation and interest in the arts. He was a cut above the average comic writer or artist. There were a few exceptions, like Don Cameron.
Did he write from home?
Yes. I suppose at some point everybody at times worked in the office. There were cubbies where we could sit and work when something has to be gotten out quickly. Bill worked at home mostly. So did I. So did most of us. I remember sitting alongside Jerry Siegel one day, in one of the cubby holes. We were each working on a Superman story. It’s funny because I said, “Jerry, how much are you getting for that story?” He said $800, then he said “How much are you getting for yours?” I said $125, which I thought was fair. After all, Jerry had invented the character. Jerry didn’t know that was fair. Jerry thought he should have had everything. Jerry had no idea of the costs of running a business like that, of fighting the mobsters for space on the newsstands, and what that cost, and maintaining bodyguards. In a way, Jerry and Joe were rather childish.
When you were working in these cubbies there, was it desks that were lined up with separation, or was it just desk next to desk?
They were small rooms, well lit, with desks. Just room for two at a time at most. They were small. They were perfectly well adapted to writing and to privacy. And you didn’t have to work there, it was just a convenience.
So they were actual rooms with doors and windows? It wasn’t an open cubby?
It was all glassed in.
The wall was made out of glass?
Yeah.
Did people wear ties to work in those days?
Oh no, anything but. It was very informal there. In fact, in the very early days, you’d see people chasing around the bottle. A lot of them were heavy drinkers. You’d see bottles lying around. People never wore—neckties were almost taboo. This was the very early days, a lot of prosperity, right on top of the Depression. People were having a lot of fun. There was an often lot of drunks around. A lot of the writers couldn’t work unless they were drinking. I’m talking about some of the guys who came in at the end of the war. Some of the earlier ones were pros. Don Cameron was an alcoholic. He didn’t carry a bottle into the office but one day he came in, he tried to push Mort Weisinger out the window, but I guess you know that story.
Actually, I don’t. That would be great for another book. It sounds like a good one.
A whole lot of it’s been told in Alter Ego. I’ve told some. [something unintelligible] Don was a little guy. And I’m small. At that time, I was five six and three quarters, I’m now five two, I had two discs removed. At that time, I towered over Don. Don was an excellent writer.
How tall were you compared to Bill back then?
Bill and I were about the same height. Bill was a short man, maybe he was an inch or so taller than me.
What color hair?
Brownish. Light brown. Blue eyes, I remember. I think they were blue eyes [selective service report from 1940 confirms brown eyes, brown hair, 5’7”]. Now I can’t be sure. These are strange memories. My most painful memory of Bill was the time when he really was out in the doghouse with DC, had no work, and was working out on Long Island for some kind of municipal cataloging place. He was getting very badly paid. He was really at the very bottom at that time. He was broken with Portia. At that time he came to visit me and he brought Freddie. He had to take charge of Freddie ‘cause Portia had to do something. They were separated, but he was still visiting… He didn’t know, we took him out, and he told us this terrible story about his suffering. And you could see it. He was like parchment when you looked at him. It was very sad to see because Bill was very good when he was good. But Bill had that inability to get his work in on time. It was almost as though a Freudian withholding.
Did he talk about his work?
Yes he did.
When he talked about it, was he compelling? Did people listen to him?
No, he talked together with other writers, would get excited. If you read my first column, when Bill and I are plotting a Plastic Man story, that’s the way it worked, with excitement, with all of us, we’re all the same that way. There wasn’t anything different or unusual about the way Bill did it, except in many ways Bill was better at it. Also, Bill had a talent for taking a certain kind of life and doing a real biography of it, like he’d take a fisherman’s life on the east coast and he’d build a story around that, building in the details, lot of good research. It had a realism that was very rich around which the story was woven.
Are you talking about a Batman story, for example?
Yes, Batman stories specifically. All of his stuff is Batman.
Where did he do his research?
That’s kind of hard to know. He’d go to the library. He was not an organized researcher. He was a badly educated man. I don’t know if he got through high school. He was selling shoes. The story is that this idiot and uh, you know, Bob Kane, or Robert Kahn, was absolutely an idiot. He couldn’t talk and worst of all, he couldn’t draw. But what happened was that his father was a lawyer and at the time that DC was negotiating with the syndicate in order to get in there, that was the time old man Kahn or Kane or whatever struck and demanded a contract for Bob. That was how Bob got hold of it and got all his security. But if you ever talked to Bob…they were doing a Batman movie. Bob went out to Hollywood. They figured he’d be good for advice. He had nothing to say. He had no ideas. He never did have an idea. The only exchange that I’ve had with him, and I knew him for a long time, in association with Bill…I remember in the office he came over to me and he said “What’s the idea of putting a stampede in there? You know I can’t draw sheep!” (laughs) Well, they weren’t sheep! He would talk almost in monosyllables. He was really the kid with the dunce cap.
What did Bill think of him?
Bill didn’t express himself that I remember about Bob.
If he was such a smart guy and Bob wasn’t—
You know, Bill was smart and Bob wasn’t, but what their personal relationship was you didn’t see. You only saw it from it from the outside. I never saw Bill alone with Bob. How would you, you know? He never treated him with any contempt or anything. As a matter of fact, the other way around—Bob sort of lorded over Bill because Bob could’ve fired him any time he wanted because of that contract. Bill had no security whatsoever. Now all the editors knew this, and some of them made an effort—like Jack Schiff and Bernie Breswell (sp?) in the old days, and these guys were Marxists. Right-wing Marxists, I call them—they were Stalinists. I don’t know if you know much about the politics of those days and the differences between Trotskyites and Stalinists?
I should but I don’t.
Yeah, you should, but you don’t—well, Jack Schiff and I were good friends, in spite of the fact that he was a Stalinist and I was a Trotskyist. (laughs) Jack had a very human quality. He cared about the writers. He cared about fairness. This is why he got involved in all these things. Basically, he was a do-gooder, he was a very decent man. He was a very competent editor. And when he left he was very bitter too because I saw him afterwards. But everybody who left was bitter. That’s the way it goes in those businesses.
Part 2.
Lew Sayre Schwartz was an artist most associated with Batman. I interviewed Lew for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman. He passed away in 2011.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen).
What was Bill Finger like?
I did not know him at all.
Do you know anything about him?
Most certainly. I think Bob Kane failed to credit him along the way for the creation of Batman and always stated some regret as long as he didn’t have to put it in writing.
Do you think that they should share equal billing?
You’ve got to put it this way. I worked on many of Bill Finger’s stories. Are you familiar with what I did for Bob Kane? I worked for Bob almost seven years. Early on, most of the scripts that I got were Bill Finger’s. They were always the most imaginative; they were always the best stories. They were the most visual and creative of…I did about 115 stories between ‘47 and ‘53.
That’s incredible.
How the situation worked, which might be of interest to you, Bob Kane never liked to let anybody know that somebody else is doing the work. In my case, he was particularly interested in not letting DC know because his contract called for I think 12 stories, I’m not positive of that, and with me he did 24. I was very happy to get the work. I was very happy to remain anonymous. I never met anybody at DC. All of the guys—Shelly, Dick Sprang—I never met any of those guys. The only one I knew was Jerry Robinson and Jerry and I have been good friends for many years. And I actually replaced Jerry. What Bob would do is take my pencils and this is very interesting because for a long period of time DC has very nicely credited the artist. And there would be a little bio in Batman in the ‘50s, for example. Apparently, Bob wrote my bio and it was a lie from the beginning. It said I did backgrounds and it was a long tutelage, if you will. I mean, I never saw the guy. We’d meet occasionally, but by and large he would mail me a script and I would do the pages and send them back to him and if you’ve seen Alter Ego, look at my pencils and you’ll see that I wasn’t doing backgrounds.
Where did you live at the time?
I lived in Wilton, Connecticut. I lived in Massachusetts for a short time. I was born here. But by and large I doubled Bob’s output. In effect, at the end of the year, I was paying for myself very handsomely because he’d pay me $100 which was good money at the time, especially for a kid, and he got $500. That’s okay. I might’ve done the same thing. I was very happy to get the $100. I thought I was being very well paid. In contrast to what some of those other guys were paying people, it was good money.
Do you have a sense of what Bill Finger’s contribution was besides what you already described? What aspects of Batman’s are his legacy?
Bob always commiserated that he didn’t give Bill Finger sufficient credit. Now I can only judge from the material that I worked with that Bill Finger sent and knowing Bob Kane that it was not Bob Kane alone who created Batman. I don’t think so.
Do you think that Bill should get equal credit if that were possible?
Well, I think he should get equal credit. If you talked to Jerry Robinson, you’ll find Jerry feels the same way.
When Bob said that he felt he wasn’t giving Bill enough credit, did you believe that or do you think that was just an act?
I think that understanding Bob’s ego—and translate this properly—Bob Kane was making big money when he was 18 years old by contrast of what anybody else was making. I don’t think he ever believed it and he was always afraid to give anybody credit for fear that he would lose it. So he became a sort of minor pseudo-celebrity. Ate it all up. But mostly everybody else was doing the work. And he was fortunate with people like Jerry Robinson and Dick Sprang and Shelly Moldoff and a lot of talented guys who gave him the backup. Most of my things looked like Caniff. (laughs) Be that as it may, looking back, I couldn’t believe how many stories I did, but it’s true.
You never met Bill in person?
We never met.
You guys never even talked on the phone?
Nada. Too bad. I’ve never met Shel Moldoff, never met Dick Sprang.
[tells a Mort Weisinger story, how he hated Bob, for years Mort was trying to find out who Bob had doing the work, Lew worked in art department, did Bob’s work as freelance thing but was on staff at King Features, we had a phone booth in back of room, Mort went to the trouble of finding out the number and tried to nail me and called me at least two or three times, offered to buy lunch just to nail Bob, but I wouldn’t have any part of it, first of all didn’t like his manner when he spoke to me…apparently he (Mort) doesn’t enjoy a good reputation either]
Kane was just a frightened man and feared almost forever. Last time I spoke to Kane was probably ‘93. He called me from California. He had been trying to peddle his book since the late ‘70s and nobody would buy it. Batman and Me. And I congratulated him. I said “Bob, you finally made it. Be a good guy and send me a signed copy.” Dead silence. I said “What’s a matter, Bob?” He said “Well you’re not in it.” Sometimes you don’t come up with the right response. I said, “Gee, I only worked for you for seven years. I wouldn’t expect you to remember that.”
[I said how I don’t believe some of the book even though it’s an autobio]
Oh, you can’t. I haven’t read it, I haven’t bought it, and I have no interest in taking the time.
Well, it’s out of print.
(laughs) The first time I ever went up to DC was around ‘93 when I discovered I had royalties coming to me.
Have you ever heard any stories about Bill over the years?
You gotta talk to I would think the DC people that are still left that worked there when Bill Finger worked there. What about Paul Levitz? … All my peers are gone.
Well, I just talked to Shelly Moldoff and I’m going to talk to Jerry so you guys are hanging on.
Well, we’re lucky. The miracle of modern medicine is keeping a lot of people alive.
How do you feel these days?
I’m good. I had a six-month battle with a pinched nerve but I finally hit the right doctor and he removed the problem. I can walk again and I’m getting around okay. And strangely enough I keep getting these requests for drawings.
I’m not surprised at all. Do you go to conventions?
Hardly. Once in a great while.
Who were your best friends in the industry?
Well, my mentor was Caniff. And I was very close to Stan Drake and Alex Raymond and I guess Mort Walker and that whole crew. Dik Browne. Dik Browne’s daughter Sally is my younger son’s godmother.
[I tell Lew he was part of the golden age of comics, he said it was not the newspapers]
I would have never ever said to Caniff that I was drawing Batman.
He didn’t even know?
In those days, working in the books was not exactly a class act. If you read through that Alter Ego piece—it’s tedious but there’s a lot there—I went into the film business and became a writer and director and producer. But all of my cartoon experience really had to do with growing up understanding sequential art, which is what film is.
I really appreciate your time.
It’s okay. I’m happy to be helpful. I would’ve loved—I heard Bill was a very sweet, very laid back guy, and he took a lot of crap from a lot of people unfortunately, and he was not well treated.
[said I’ll let him know if the book goes anywhere]
For Bill Finger’s memory, it would be very nice. It’s extraordinary that Batman even more so than Superman seems to continue to go on. … It’s inconceivable to me that Bob would’ve done anything by himself. I think the credit would be long overdue. He was apparently a very sweet guy and he got the shaft. He died a poor man, as were the circumstances surrounding Siegel and Shuster.
Did you know them, too?
Oh yeah. I was at Bob’s apartment the day they tried to get Bob to join the lawsuit.
Oh, you mean they came over? It was just the four of you?
Bob’s father was a very wise old Jewish guy and he said, “Listen, let them do what they want. But you’re doing good. Don’t touch it.” And his father was right.
So he said that once they were gone?
Yeah.
So there were five of you guys there?
Well, I didn’t sit in on the thing, I was in the other room. I knew them. That was the big day. They won. They won $2 million, the lawyers took a million, they split the other million, and three years later they were broke.
You’re talking about in the ‘40s, right?
Yeah. That was a lot of money in the ‘40s.
Do you know if Bill ever stuck up for himself or tried to get credit?
I don’t think so. What I knew about him, and Jerry would know better, he just did his job. Fortunately, he did it damn well. It’s funny because I got out of the comic business for a living in the mid-50s but I remember those scripts like it was yesterday.
Let me know if you make a hit.
Shelly Moldoff was a comic book artist most associated with Hawkman and Batman, along with multiple Batman villains. I interviewed Shelly for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman. He passed away in 2012.
The interview is transcribed (and slightly edited) from a recording, as I did with all the interviews in this series (Jerry Robinson, Shelly Moldoff, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Alvin Schwartz, Joe Kubert, Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, Irwin Hasen).
What was Bill Finger’s personality?
Bill didn’t have much of a personality. You can’t really go into any depth with him.
What was he like when you were talking with him?
Very laid back. Quiet. Ambitious. He wanted to be a writer. But that’s about it. Can’t say he had a great sense of humor or anything like that.
Was he one of the guys or did he keep to himself?
Not really. He kept to himself.
Why do you think that was?
First of all, he was a complete opposite I would say of Bob Kane. Bob Kane was tall, good-looking, attractive guy, particularly to the women. Was a womanizer. He had a lot of things personality-wise going for him. He was likable. Bill was very quiet and laid back. He wasn’t an attractive guy like Bob was.
I couldn’t tell. In the few pictures I’ve seen, he looked like he was pretty handsome. He wasn’t?
No, not really. I wouldn’t say that.
Do you have pictures of him?
Not really, no. He was quiet, ambitious, and overshadowed by Bob.
Did his personality change over the years?
He had a lot of personal problems. I don’t know that I should go into it, or anybody else. But he had personal problems.
Did he become more depressed or withdrawn?
I would say he became more withdrawn. For example, Jack Schiff the editor and many other editors liked his work. He was a very good writer. They would give him a script and an assignment, but getting the finished script was like pulling teeth out of him. Many times he wouldn’t finish the last two pages and you had to chase him to get the last two pages. It was just part of his personality or nature. Some people are never late. I was never late on a deadline. But they had to chase Bill a lot and as he got older, it became a little bit more difficult to work with him. I know the editor of Batman and Robin, Jack Schiff, would say, “I’ll give you a script anytime, but I gotta have it. You never bring it in.”
What was his response?
More like begging. He’ll be there, he’ll do it. As I say, he had a lot of personal things.
He only had one son?
I don’t know too much about his family. You have to be careful talking about him because nobody likes to read anything bad about anybody. That’s the nature of the person.
Are you talking about Bill now?
Yeah, I’m talking about Bill. Anybody, for that matter. I used to tell Bob “You got a lot of fans, you got a great strip going, very popular. But you have no rapport with your fans. You look down on them. If it wasn’t for them you wouldn’t be sitting way up here. If you had a better rapport, you’d be much more popular and it would help you. It would make you a better person. But it didn’t sink in to him. He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t interested in accolades or going to a convention and meeting people. It was of no concern to him. He just didn’t care.
What do you think he thought of Bill Finger?
He thought of him as a writer, period.
Not a friend too?
A fan?
A friend.
Yeah, as much as he could be a friend.
But they weren’t buddies when they weren’t working?
Not really buddy-buddy.
They sound like they were so different.
Some people think that Bill Finger should have his name up there alongside Bob’s. It should be “Created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger.” Well, Bob would never give anybody a byline, never under any circumstances would he give you a byline. He wouldn’t give his own father a byline. That was his nature.
Do you know if Bill ever asked for a byline?
I would say he probably did. I can’t say for sure, but I would say it’s only natural to say I’d like to see my name up there. I made a big contribution. But Bob wouldn’t give anybody a nod.
What do you know to be Bill’s contribution to Batman?
I would say the writing, the type of story. It was a like a movie set. He loved to write like that. They were lucky they found Dick Sprang, that was right down his alley. Those big spectacle stories where all the background props and things like that, Bill loved to write like that.
Which elements of Batman did Bill create—certain characters, parts of the costume?
When you say did he create certain characters, this is a subject that a lot of people don’t understand and a lot of people make claims that they did. You get a script, and the editor sits down with the writers, and believe me, they spend an awful lot of time trying to come up with a plot and a story. You get a story and in it it calls for a character that waddles around, short, funny-looking, and in your mind you have to conceive what kind of character they want. He might say to you it looks like a penguin or something like that. And you work on that premise. Now who created the character? Was it the artist or the writer?
There was no one person that said I created Catwoman or I created Penguin?
Well, it comes with the story. I created the visual image of Bat-Mite. In the story, it was about a little alien from outer space, a little tiny creature that flew around and wanted to help Batman. What do they look like? Did he look like a mouse, did he look like a rabbit? What was he like? Did he hop, did he fly? It’s up to the artist to conceive what the Bat-Mite looked like. Then afterwards, what am I going to say, I created the Bat-Mite? I never said I created the Bat-Mite. I did the story, but I never take it away from the writer who came up with the idea.
So you would say it’s a joint effort?
It’s a joint effort. Now Bob doesn’t realize that. Bob never accepted that.
Did you talk to Bob after you stopped working?
No.
What about Bill?
Oh, Bill was long gone. I think Bill had passed away before that.
Did you stay in touch with Bill until he died?
Never, never in touch with Bill.
Do you think Bill deserves a credit along with Bob on the strip, if it were possible?
Not unless you want to give it to everybody else.
Everybody who ever worked on it?
Yeah. What are you going to do, give it to Jerry Robinson, give it to me? Jerry Robinson did the outfit for the Robin, which is an important character. I did something else, somebody else did something else. Bob’s theory was this: I created Batman, it’s my strip. I can do what I want with it. Anybody else that works on it is actually working for me and whatever they do belongs to me. It would never have been possible unless there was a Batman strip. He never acknowledged that anybody had any rights to anything.
You agree with that?
No, I don’t agree with that.
If anything was possible, whose name or names do you think should be on every issue of Batman today, as the creators? Is it a long list?
I would still leave it.
Leave it as Bob?
Leave it at Bob.
Just to make it simple?
At the very beginning when he created it, he put every ounce of energy and talent that he had in it. He was completely taken by it and involved in it. And he did a great job. It was his feeling of the character that made it successful. You gotta give him credit for it. That’s how I feel about it. He was responsible for making it so popular. Add to that different people embellished on different parts of it. But it was his feeling, his spirit, of the way he wanted it done. And he was active at the beginning, he was active the first couple of years, he did participate. And he was very into it. Then once it started taking off, he had other artists, the publisher had other artists come in to help because of the quantity of work that was necessary. Then he kind of stepped out of it. I give him credit for it, no question about it.
Do you have any stories about Bill that stick out, a little anecdote about him that might be interesting to kids? The way he worked, what he said, his reaction?
Not really. He was a very tight guy.
Very what?
Very tight. Never pick up the tab. If you were in a taxi, no matter who he was with, he would get off that cab before you did so that he wasn’t involved in paying the bill. That’s how cheap he was.
Did you have a favorable impression of him overall?
We used to date together, his wife and my wife, we socialized. His daughter used to sleep at my house on the weekends. We were very close. But he was a very funny guy. Cheap. We used to fight over money. I would feel I was [?] a certain amount. His checks bounced regularly.
Are you talking about Bob or Bill?
Bob.
When you said the story about the taxicab, was that Bob or Bill?
Bob.
I’m talking about Bill.
I don’t know enough about Bill. I have very little to say about Bill.
Because you didn’t know him well?
I knew just from being there, if he was at the apartment at the same time that I was there. But otherwise we never socialized or anything like that.
I got the impression from the books that you knew him quite well.
Not really. I never said that.
I know you didn’t, but that’s the impression I got when I was reading some of these books.
I didn’t know him that well.
Do you know anybody out there who did know him well?
Not really. As I say, he was a little bit strange and he had a lot of personal problems.
Did you have an impression of Bill?
I don’t know enough about him. But as I say, I admire him on his writing ability. He was perfect for the beginning of Batman because that’s the type of stories that seem to be the main lead story in Batman’s adventures. Dick Sprang loved to delve into history and the museums and get all the background, so it was a great partnership there.
My first exposure to Irwin Hasen's work was the comic strip, Dondi. It wasn't until I picked up some reprints that I discovered his comics work (i.e. Wildcat). Awesome stuff.