Big Monkey Comics claims it’s successful by being a traditional comic book shop. It sells almost no manga, does almost nothing to cater to the shojo crowd, and while the shop sells graphic novels and trades, actual comic books make up a great deal of its sales. What keeps the store going, says owner Scipio Garling, is the community that centers around Big Monkey.
“People don’t come to our comic book store to buy comics,” said Garling. “They come to talk about comics.” The store stays open late Wednesday nights and hosts HeroClix games and a twice-a-month women’s comic book discussion group. A recent HeroClix tourney brought in about 50 people each weekend for five weekends. In the spirit of fun, Garling deliberately set out not to have a competitive atmosphere. “The point is to mingle and talk.”
The women's group is truly women only, and after the group meets, members are allowed some private, women-only shopping-time in the store. “I’ve been to comic book stores where the vibe is like a porn shop,” said Scipio. “No one says anything. No one talks to anyone. No one is identified by name, just a box number—all very anonymous. That’s not us. It’s nice when comic books can be not just a solo reading activity but a mechanism for people to socially interact.”
The Washington, D.C., comic book store sells traditional superhero comics, with an emphasis on Batman and other urban series, like DMZ and Runaways. It also has a wall of action figurines and does a lively subscription service (120-150 comics subscribers). Located in the newly hip 14th Street. business corridor, a divide between an area of small shops and a more residential part of the city, Big Monkey—which moved two years ago from Georgetown, where it was called Big Universe—has become a “commuter” store, where people stop by on the way home to browse and argue. According to Garling, the comics community didn’t follow the store to the new location. “The store migrated to where the community was,” he said. “No one lives in Georgetown.” Garling and his partners sensed this when deciding where to put the new Big Monkey.
The Big Monkey Wednesday night discussions (“sometimes we have to chase people out to get the store closed”) evolved into monthly podcasts starting last May. The podcasters are comics bloggers who get their comics at Big Monkey. The Big Monkey Web site now links to their blogs and lets them use the Big Monkey logo. These podcasts feature long discussions, short dramatic radio show—like interludes and suggestions of what to read. Aside from airing their opinions, Garling and others use podcasting to support work and writers they think are underappreciated. For instance, they were early supporters of Gail Simone’s work. Right now they’re pushing Blue Beetle. “When you have a bully pulpit, you use it,” said Garling.
It’s not clear whether Washington readers have a particular policy-wonk taste in comics that sets them apart from other cities, though Garling said that Action Philosophers flies off the shelves. “All you have to do is hand it to somebody here. If they laugh at all, they buy it.”
Big Monkey in Washington has a sister Big Monkey store in Fredericksburg, Va., run by Garling’s partner, Tom Mingus. Fredericksburg, a hour’s drive away, is a suburban community, and the two have noticed that there’s an urban/suburban divide. “DC Comics is big here [in Washington],” said Garling. Other big sellers for the Washington store are Y: the Last Man, Runaways and Local, while Marvel, especially anything X-Men or Hulk, sells well in the Virginia store.
Garling, who is in his early 40s, started his career as a policy analyst specializing in immigration before deciding that “life is too short not to do something you actually love.” His background gives him a lot in common with his customers, whom he describes as “not intellectually insecure.” One woman who is a Sgt. Rock fan works as a military historian. Garling himself likes to make connections between Batman and Greek tragedies. (He double-majored in Greek and classics at Dartmouth.) The think-tank vibe appears in the discussions, which can be deeply opinionated. “When DC has things like Lex Luthor being president, or Marvel does Civil War, people sit around going, ‘that really doesn’t fly’ or ‘I can’t believe that would get past Congress.’ ” And the podcasts sound a bit like raucous pundits on some evening political commentary show. In the August podcast, one commentator called Black Canary the “Hillary Clinton” of the DC universe.
Big Monkey Comics is located at 1722B 14th St., N.W., in Washington, D.C.
