The oldest thing I own is my Marvel comics. I bought them as a child in the 1970s and have kept them for 50 years. I did have a huge collection, including most number 1 issues, but it has dwindled now to around 30 cherished editions. 

I got them informally valued a few years ago, but I don’t want to sell them, because they have a special place in my heart. Even when I had lost everything, and packed my belongings in a car and drove off, I took them. I didn’t take albums, or photographs, just my comics. That’s either sad or poetic, and I’m not sure which. 

These days, I don’t watch Marvel films. For me, they’ve lost their appeal. All of those crash, bang, wallop effects and cheap one liners, don’t capture the essence of the troubled super hero. The heroes in the comics had a darker side that they wrestled with, or a difficult personal life we could relate to. Being a superhero wasn’t easy and I think the films miss that. And then, as with most American blockbusters, you know the end before the film has begun, and that is deathly dull. The comics weren’t like that. They often ended in sorrow or grief, and much like real life, the bad guys sometimes won.