Translations of the 1001 Nights established ancient Persia as one of the classic locales for fantasy adventure, with its magic carpets and genies in lamps and a requisite number of heroes, monsters, and maidens. Names like Aladdin and Ali Baba unlock whole chapters of world mythology, and rising above even them is that master mariner, Sinbad the Sailor. So it's hardly a surprise that in the post-World War II years, when most of the Golden Age superheroes folded up their tents, that publishers searching for the next hot genre would turn to the Arabian Nights for inspiration.

     St. John, one of the many companies that sprang up in the postwar era, tried these waters with Son Of Sinbad #1 (February, 1950). The Joe Kubert cover makes an awesome introductory statement and also hints that another key ingredient in the "sword and sorcery" recipe will be well-supplied by the belles of Baghdad.

     The first story shows why Kubert is considered one of the greatest second-generation comic book artists (the first generation that grew up with comic books and refined the achievements of the Golden Age). The plot is the most perfunctory part of this otherwise-opulent eight and a half-page yarn of treasure hunting and princess rescuing.

     The second story features Omar of the Magic Robes, a phantom of disguise who uses make-up and quick-change artistry to help him through seven pages of ancient-Middle-Eastern melodrama that are easily readable but make it no mystery as to why Omar slipped into that vast pantheon of one-shot heroes. Next, Sinbad's son is back in "Curse of the Caliph's Dancer", again illustrated by the redoubtable Kubert. A spectacularly-drawn underwater scene highlights this tepidly-told tale, strong enough to string together the pretty pictures, but too weak to remember once the book is "back in the bag".

     The third Son of Sinbad story, "The Merchant of Menace", is nicely drawn (though not by Kubert) but again reveals how four-color success often takes more than formula presentations of familiar characters making the same old motions - however colorful the background. The Son of Sinbad did not voyage on into a second issue. Still, although it did not continue as a series, let alone spark a trend that filled the newsstands with imitators, Son Of Sinbad is a worthwhile book - the excellent art and the elegant atmosphere make up for the "just so-so" storytelling. There was not enough here to sustain a series without a more imaginative and innovative use of the characters and fantasy paraphernalia... but it does make an engaging one-shot that demonstrates the variety of approaches that publishers tried amidst the changes that were going on in the industry as the 1950s dawned.

     Eleven years later, with the Silver Age underway and the comic book industry starting towards the superheroes-only stance that restricted the possibilities for decades to come, Dell issued "Thief Of Baghdad" as one of its Movie Classic adaptations (Four Color #1229; September, 1961). The original "Thief of Baghdad" story, which the movie was based on, although not one of Scheherazade's original 1001 tales, is the best 20th-century addition to the Arabian Nights tradition. Written by the Afghani pulp-writer Achmed Abdullah, the story was filmed in 1924 and 1940 before the 1961 Italian version that the Dell comic used. The old fairy-tale plot of the princess put under a spell that only a mystic quest by her true love can break - is used to perfection.

     The Steve Reeves photo-cover from the movie is a vivid and exciting still that does everything but prepare the reader for the superb art inside - by Reed Crandall and George Evans. The solid story, great illustration, and Dell's winning 32-page cover-to-cover no ads format make this a singularly enjoyable book. Only a blue rose can save the princess from the mysterious illness that keeps her confined to her bed and slowly undermines her health. And he who would seek this rose must make his way through all kinds of fantastic perils - man-eating trees, invisible demons, and a sorceress who turns men into stone statues.

     It's been many years since I saw the 1961 version of "Thief of Baghdad", so I don't remember it all that well. There is a charming bit of business at the story's end (in the comic) with the guardian spirit who assisted our hero on his quest, but as to whether it was dreamed up by the Italian movie-makers or the Dell script- writer or of Reed himself I can't say.

     Even though I billed Son Of Sinbad as new and different, it might be wise to circle back just to show that there's really nothing new under the sun. Prize Publication's Treasure Comics #6 (April/May, 1946) cover-stars the Arabian Knight, rendered by H. C. Kiefer. The eight-page story inside has the Persian protagonist stave off an invasion from Far-Eastern Tartar hordes. There is not much to distinguish this swashbuckler from hundreds of other heroes, but the character's name and the fact that he performed his derring-do in bygone Baghdad warranted inclusion in an article discussing the 1001 Nights as source material for comic strips. The Arabian Knight shared Treasure's pages with the legendary lumberjack, Paul Bunyan, and Dr. Styx, an occult detective. Also noteworthy is Classics Illustrated #8 Arabian Nights (February, 1943), which took the source material literally.

     As implied earlier, these four-color derivates of the Arabian Nights form a subset of the sword and sorcery genre. Most often these tales take place in totally imaginary realms, rather than a "real" city like Baghdad. Thus Avon's Slave Girl (#1 and #2, 1949) is a sister to Son Of Sinbad - one that went over-the-top in catering to the adolescent male audience. It was not until 1970 that a sword and sorcery comic became a best-seller. This, of course, was Marvel's Conan, based on the 1930s pulp series by Robert E. Howard, that made Hyboria a "classic locale for fantasy adventure".

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.