It’s easy to forget that the creators of arguably the most iconic American character of all were fans, not pros.  But as Random House’s clever tagline for Boys of Steel points out, “Before Metropolis, Smallville, and Krypton, Superman came from Cleveland”—a fact whose significance this wonderful picture book helps us remember.  Perhaps more importantly, I can’t help but think that the young readers who are its core audience will find this new title appealing and thereby ensure that future generations recall the amazing story behind Superman’s creation as well.  Wait, did I say “recall”?  Strike that—make it “will be inspired by” instead.  This book is that good.

Boys of Steel, a 70th anniversary celebration of Superman’s debut, is illustrated in pitch-perfect retro-style by Ross MacDonald and written Marc Nobleman, a comics historian of sorts with a gift for dramatizing the creative process.  Together they accomplish something like a hat trick:  deftly sketching the pop cultural context for comics’ Golden Age; vividly bringing to life an entire era—socially and politically—and showing how it was reflected in the escapist entertainment of the day; and personalizing the Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster biographies in ways with which anyone who’s ever enjoyed genre fiction can identify.

The book doesn’t just highlight Siegel and Schuster’s fan status and how it gave them a unique vantage point from which to build their new hero, but shows what it looked and felt like to be a fan back then.  Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, not a lot of things have changed in the intervening seven decades.  The wish fulfillment fantasy provided by an alter ego who belies everything that others see in you is alive and well—just take a look at the box office receipts of Wanted.  Tracing the true “origins” of Superman, the talents behind BOS start with a tale of two teenagers who somehow found each other through their common fannish interests.  What results is an engaging story that deserves a place in the read-aloud queues of caregivers, teachers, and librarians everywhere.  That’s because Nobleman has written a multi-leveled narrative that allows an adult guide to clarify background (and frequent references to Superman catch phrases) for kids while appreciating the book’s more grownup themes and interesting historical details.

Meanwhile, MacDonald uses sepia tones and meticulous period details to evoke bygone styles, but supplements these with radiant sunburst designs and, sometimes, comic-like layouts to keep the presentation far livelier than one might expect.  Check out the subtle motion lines that accompany Siegel as he dashes to Shuster’s home after pulling an all-nighter.

  With touches like that, Boys of Steel effectively demonstrates the adventure of everyday life when it’s approached a certain way, especially that most exciting exploit of all, artistic creation.  Although the book is too smart to sledgehammer us with its moral, many readers will come away with the notion that it takes knowing something about being a hero if one hopes to create a hero that speaks to others.

Yet Boys of Steel has an important function apart from telling a compelling story of friendship and collaboration and imparting the usual “follow your dreams” message.”  It’s actually a media literacy text, shedding light on the complex relationship between creators and publishers, between commerce and imagination.  Those who know the relevant history are aware that as Superman went on to dominance and became the template for the superhero archetype, he largely became the champion of the publishing side of the equation, with our title characters getting the short end of the stick.  Boys of Steel avoids chronicling the sad history of their later careers and their consequent financial struggles, opting to end on an upbeat note instead, but to Nobleman’s credit there’s an afterward that details their struggle to be recognized as Superman’s creators.  And although it wasn’t available in the copy I previewed, an updated version of this afterward includes info about the 2008 landmark ruling that gave Siegel’s heirs part of the copyright to the character.  Again, if you’re sharing this book with kids, I recommend reading or paraphrasing this section, too, as it will complete the profile of Siegel and Shuster in a powerful way.

So in this sense does the title Boys of Steel have a double meaning, as a reference to the perseverance necessary to succeed in both art and commerce?  Perhaps.  Still, what makes the book so valuable is hardly elusive.  Its strengths lie in the sensitivity of its storytelling and in a balanced approach that neither condescends to the main characters nor elevates them into pop culture martyrs or “visionaries.”  Rather, it celebrates the youthful spirit that really only comes from being a fan and how the cycle is completed as some fans go on to become legends and beget more fans as a result.

Truth be told, generally speaking I’m no huge Superman fan myself although I came to love the gritty, pulp-flavored work of S & S when I rediscovered it in recent years courtesy of DC’s “Archive Editions.”  But this book isn’t really about Superman or even the lasting impact of a single character on an entire industry.  It would have been easy to go that route, certainly.  Boys of Steel is a winner precisely because it approaches its subject intimately—we don’t need to learn more about the grandeur of Superman, but the vastness of his creators’ aspirations is a story that hasn’t been told nearly enough.  And so with an eye to enlightening its audience while still maintaining a light touch, Boys of Steel accomplishes that elusive goal of children’s literature in terms of its readership:  it builds both character and a sense of wonder.