The company we know as Marvel published pulp magazines in the 1930s as Red Circle. It's recognized that over a year before Marvel Comics #1 in late 1939, Red Circle issued the pulp Marvel Science Stories, but it's seldom mentioned that earlier in 1938 Red Circle had started another fantasy mag, Uncanny Tales. So it should come as no surprise that when Atlas launched their fifth fantasy comic title of 1952 they christened it Uncanny Tales. And, like the earlier borrowing of the "Marvel" pulp logo, the distinctive "wavy" lettering style from the mag was retained in the comic's banner.

     Uncanny Tales #1 (June 1952) is packed with four enjoyable tales and an eerie cover by Sol Brodsky. Russ Heath vividly illustrates the yarn inside, "While the City Sleeps," a thoroughly enjoyable "flying saucers land in a graveyard where aliens re-animate corpses" romp. The second story is a chiller about two old ladies who breed and keep pet rats—with distinctive art by Manny Stallman.

     "The Drop of Blood," powerfully drawn by Dick Ayers, is potent and prophetic: a hypnotist's assistant in a carnival show kills his master to regain his own will, but a splash of the victim's blood won't wash off his shoulder. He seeks the aid of the carnival mystic, who peddles a potion that both cures ills and removes stains, but the results are fabulously fatal.

     "Satan and Sammy Snodgrass" is a clever deal with the devil six-pager scripted by Stan Lee (editor of the Atlas line) and rendered by Paul Reinman. All four stories in the book are worthwhile, and that happens seldom enough to mark this as an auspicious first issue.

     Uncanny Tales #7 (April 1953) features a wonderful Bill Everett cover, and the story inside—with art by the able Harry Anderson—is creepy enough: another carnival weirdie, where one clown murders a rival clown and then tries to impersonate his victim but finds that murder is no laughing matter.

     "The Witch of Landor" is a fast-moving four-pager with emphatic imagery by Larry Woromay about a man who finds out how stolen magic always turns on the thief... "The Woman Who Talked Too Much" is the inevitably ironic tale of a man's ill-fated attempt to escape his windbag wife; it's a readable filler. "Planet of Death" is a three-pager of little consequence, but Howie Post's unique drawing style makes it a visual treat.

     The last story is a marvelous one, by the terrific team of Stan Lee and Joe Maneely: "I Was Trapped in a Haunted House." When a new kid in town scoff's at the gang's addiction to Atlas fantasy comics they dare him to spend the hour after midnight in the local haunted house. The shot of a newsstand on page two--festooned with Atlas books—is a big thrill, and things move adroitly towards the charming conclusion where the newcomer learns the value of spooky stories. Every panel of this masterpiece shines with the intensity of Maneely's art.

     Uncanny Tales #20 (May 1954) offers a high-impact cover by Robert Q. Sale, his only Atlas fantasy cover, although he drew many memorable interior yarns. The inside opener is "Somewhere Lurks a Thing" with crude but creative graphics by Dick Briefer, famous for his long tenure on Frankenstein for Prize Comics. It's an excellent tale of a trans-dimensional vampire and the hapless human hosts he must possess to gain full entry into our world so he can feed....

     Next up is one of the anti-Commie yarns Atlas churned out in a mixture of zeal and desperation: a story of brainwashing gone awry in Korea. Then comes "Who Shall Judge," with lavishly detailed drawing by Jack Katz, an ironic fable of a bribe-taking judge and the steps he takes when the police catch on to him.

     "Proof Positive" is an SF quickie about a man who discovers a duplicate Earth and a cosmic calamity; its perfunctory nature makes it four-color fodder. "Ted's Head" wraps things up with an exciting story of a historian who has nightmares about the French Revolution and the terrors of the guillotine. But the people he dreams about really do lose their heads! Oh, Atlas made decapitation fun! And that gleeful grimness would soon vanish forever as companies toned down their products to accommodate the coming censorship.

     But the pre-Code thrills were still there in Uncanny Tales #20, enough to make it a memorable issue. Uncanny Tales continued past the establishment of the Comics Code Authority in late 1954; Atlas actually expanded their fantasy line in 1955 and 1956. However, the Code had taken the heart out of four-color fantasy. Hence the title's representation here with one issue from each of the three great years of 1952, 1953, and 1954.

     In 1957 Atlas suffered a major setback as an attempt at a new distribution deal turned into a disaster. Uncanny Tales, like most of the other Atlas titles, fell victim to this "implosion," and the last issue" was #56, dated September 1957. Of course Atlas metamorphosed into Marvel, perhaps wisely deciding not to call the revamped line Uncanny Comics. Nonetheless, the achievement of Uncanny Tales and Atlas fantasy during the pre-Code years will endure, with collectors prizing these books that never fail to spark their sense of wonder.

Pat Calhoun has been collecting, researching and appreciating comic books since the early 1960s, and is a nationally recognized comic book historian. Pat resides in Santa Rosa, California.