Superman, Lois Lane and Me
What Would Superman Do?
The answer has been obvious to generations of children and adults. He would fight for “Truth, Justice, and the American Way.”
Even now, Superman still inspires.
The untold billions that his fans have spent and continue to spend on comic books, films, memorabilia, costumes and branded merchandise say it all.
But the saga of Superman has a darker side.
I mention this not because of the new movie, but because I recently discovered that Lois Lane, Superman and I are, well, mischpocha,a Yiddish word meaning family, often in a very broad sense.
You see, Lois Lane is my close cousin,more precisely, she is the woman Superman creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster patterned Lois Lane after.
Superman was born in Cleveland in 1933, in the midst of the Great Depression, when everybody needed reassurance.
His creators were two high school students, devotees of science fiction and the pulp magazines in which it often appeared.
One night, it all came together for Siegel. He wrote the first Superman story.
The next day he showed it to Shuster, an aspiring artist.
Their first collaboration was a mimeographed affair. For the next six years, they tried to sell the idea to the syndicates and companies that turned out newspaper comic strips.
Finally in 1938, DC Comics, pioneer of the new genre of comic books, gave them $130 for all rights, forever.
Against all odds and expectations, Superman took off. Siegel and Shuster spent much of the rest of their lives doing comic books as employees and suing to have their agreement renegotiated.
They died in obscurity and, if not poverty, certainly not wealth.
Which brings me to the mischpocha angle. Siegel and Shuster attended my father’s alma mater, Glenville High School in Cleveland 1933.
A few weeks ago, I returned for my class reunion. Never mind what number. While there, I visited the new Maltz Museum of Jewish History in Beachwood, which boasts a large multicolored figurine of Superman with Glenville yearbook pictures below of the “dynamic duo” (to coin a phrase) and the pretty young female classmate upon whom they based Lois Lane.
By their own admission, Siegel and Shuster had a crush on a girl who would not have gone out with them, even if they had been able to change the course of falling buildings or leap mighty rivers with their bare feet.
In an interview with the Washington Star in 1975, Siegel revealed which girl he immortalized, Lois Amster. One look at a picture of my cousin Lois as a young girl, and you know for sure.
My wife and I visited Lois Amster while we were in Cleveland. She now is 90, still lovely, spunky, independent and witty.
The fictional Lois was a very strong female character and well ahead of her time.
So is the real Lois, who is immensely proud of her two sons, their wives and four grandchildren.
Siegel, Lois recalls, was in one of her classes and always staring at her. He was a rather unkempt fellow with uncombed hair who wore pajamas that stuck out from under his pants. She avoided looking at or speaking to him.
Unsuccessful at this pursuit, the young man contented himself with fantasies of a dual life, “mild-mannered reporter and Man of Steel,” that might seem bizarre or pathological to some, but gave the country two of its most enduring icons.
But fantasy only can take you so far. Those who created Superman, and two men who played him, came to sad and tragic ends. It’s hard to believe that Superman would have wanted it that way.
And perhaps there’s a cautionary tale here. Ideals and fantasies, when carried too far or taken too literally, destroy.
So what would Superman do nowadays? Fight for Truth, Justice, and the American Way, of course.
But like any Earth man, he would never forget his love for my adorable cousin Lois Lane.
But above all, he would remain grounded in his ideals.
Michael Arnold Glueck, M.D.
Newport Beach
(Editor’s Note: Glueck flew to Cleveland and back to report this story.)
