Jack Kirby, The Avengers, 4, March 1964 (cover art)
There are many photographs of Sam Millar in the press, and on the web. On most of them, he looks rather intimidating. On some, you might even feel a sense of menace. He comes across as a hard man, no mistake. His reputation, CV, and books, of course, do nothing to change this first impression. Or maybe they do influence it. Nobody would wish to know as much about violence as he does. There is something else also, and his books prepare you for that too, when you meet him : a dark and constant sense of humour, and a great gift for telling stories, especially stories of tough luck. And a passion for books, magazines, and all printed matter. The journey between Dublin Connolly Station and Belfast Central lasts 2 hours. It feels much shorter. We have barely passed the viaduct on the Broadmeadow estuary when he orders coffees, and starts talking about the books he read. His father, a sailor, encouraged him to read; himself read all the time. Reading was a political act. When he came ashore, back to Belfast, he brought books. From America, he used to bring him Comics; Marvel, DC Comics, stories of heinous villains and of superheroes fighting for justice. Sam grew up during the early period of the troubles in Northern Ireland, reading Detective Comics made in New York. The Civil rights movement and the tail end of the silver age of Marvel comics might have seemed to intersect, not only historically, but at some distant, ideal point. Continue reading
International Crime Fiction Research Group 