I recently attended a fascinating talk at London’s Cartoon Museum about the British newspaper comic strip, and wartime cultural phenomenon, Jane.

Created by cartoonist Normat Pett for The Daily Mirror, Jane ran from 1932 to 1959 in its original incarnation, and there were several attempted revivals in subsequent decades. Starting life as a daily gag strip, with jokes revolving around Jane’s life as a Bright Young Thing (a sort of 1920s It Girl, causing a stir on the fringes of aristocratic society), it later developed into a continuing narrative, with stories that sometimes ran for months and Jane juggling a double career as British spy and moral-boosting forces pin-up girl.

Our speaker, Adam Twycross, author of British Newspaper Strips: A Contextual History, explained that the evolution of the strip was closely intertwined with the changing editorial policies of the Mirror, which was launched in 1903 as a paper for women by Alfred Harmsworth (later Lord Northcliffe). In 1914 Alfred sold it to his brother Harold, better known to us today as Lord Rothermere, friend of Mussolini and Hitler. And in the early days of Jane, the situations and jokes sometimes reflected the fascist sympathies of the paper’s owner.

The Mirror soon became known for its strong visual identity and photography-dominated covers, particularly under the art direction of Harry Guy Batholemew who, as a fan of comics and an occasional cartoonist himself, upped the number of cartoons in the paper and commissioned Jane as a feature aimed at adults.

The departure of Rothermere in 1933 due to dwindling sales left nobody in overall control of the board of directors. Bartholemew took charge and swiftly transformed the Mirror into a left wing paper for the working classes. This had a profound impact on the direction of Jane too, with its heroine losing her fortune in the Depression and rediscovering her hitherto-unmentioned roots as a more down-to-earth and relatable northerner.

Jane also became increasingly risqué as time went on, reflecting changes in social attitudes to the female body. By the end of the Second World War the public had become more accepting of nudity in the media, and the association of physical fitness with purpose and vitality that had been growing ever since Britain hosted the Olympics in 1908 was reflected in the popularity of nudist magazines such as Health & Efficiency.

Twycross argues, in his essay More than a Mere Ornament, that “the Mirror’s strategy… was to frame the female body as an iconic signifier for the themes of energy, confidence and youthful irreverence that, as a paper, it increasingly sought to embody. These themes, and their visual projection, seem to have resonated with audiences of both sexes, and the paper continued to appeal to strongly to women…”

And it’s for this aspect that Jane is mostly remembered today. Pett contrived one scenario after another in order to show Jane in her underwear – or in later years, wearing nothing at all. The appeal of this strategy to the Mirror’s male audience goes without saying, but as Stillcross pointed out, the Mirror was read by more women than men and Jane was hugely popular with both sexes. If it had just consisted of titilation, it would never have lasted as long as it did – a theory which is borne out by the later, more overtly erotic incarnations of Jane, which all failed to replicate the original’s success.

But Jane’s adventures were funny, engaging and sometimes even gripping. With her days as a society glamour girl long behind her, Jane was now a plucky defender of freedom against the Nazis. I haven’t mentioned the romantic aspect of the strip, as represented not only by her relationship with regular beau Georgie – in which Jane was usually the dominant partner – but also her occasional dalliances with other men she encountered. How modern for the times!

We might chuckle today at the idea of a strong, independent and liberated female role model who just happens to give men what they want too, but as a character Jane had a lot going for her – it’s easy to see why she appealed to women as well as men.

Jane lasted for more than a decade after the war, until in 1959 the Rothermere family regained control of the Mirror and, in an apparent act of retribution aimed at Bartholomew, cancelled the strip along with other features he had introduced. A sad day for British comics – yet with Norman Pett dying a year later, and the swinging sixties just around the corner, Jane had probably run its natural course. It had a good run by any measure.

The art – and sound – of Jane

Back at our Cartoon Museum event, Twycross brought along a splendid original Pett colour drawing of Jane, along with forces magazines featuring the character, some original John M. Burns artwork from one of the Jane revivals (featuring her granddaughter), and other Jane artefacts. I took some photos below – click them to enlarge.

It was a treat to see examples of the daily strip enlarged on screen during the talk, highlighting detail that were often lost in reproduction. Pett paid a lot of attention to the visual characterisation of both Jane and her supporting characters, as well as her canine companion Fritz who was based on the Pett family’s real life pet dachshund.

Fritz’s lovingly drawn reactions to the events taking place above his head provided a visual commentary on the strip. Whenever a charming cad tried to charm Jane, for example, Fritz would often sniff out – and alert the audience to – the rotter’s devious plans before Jane did.

Twycross ended his talk by playing a few minutes from an exceedingly rare episode of the Jane radio show, rescued and restored from a crackly shellac recording. Jane’s role here as a double agent pretending to work for the Nazis afforded us an amusing dig at her German spy master’s Hitlerian efficency – “Jane, we told you to arrive at 10am. You are three minutes early. That is unacceptable. Unlike you, the German spy Hans will arrive at 10am exactly.” (I paraphrase from memory).

Where’s Jane today

I encounted Jane via the WW2 stories collected in the 1976 telephone directory-sized collection Jane at War. As befits the strip’s cultural significance, a copy of the book is lodged in the Imperial War Museum but it still shows up from time to time in second-hand book shops if you want to bag yourself a copy.

Jane also appeared on the big screen, although some years after her glory days. The Adventures of Jane (1958) is a charming enough, cheap as chips, British B-movie starring Chrystabel Leighton-Porter, Pett’s most famous model for the series (shown below with Pett and Fritz). Not essential viewing by any stretch of the imagination, but curious fans should look out for one of its occasional appearances on the vintage movie telly channels.

Finally, Don Freeman’s book The Misadventures of Jane features over 500 daily episodes, full colour pin-up art, and an interview with Pett. It’s out of print but still available on Amazon.

Visit The Cartoon Museum at 63 Wells St, London, W1A 3AE. Follow Adam Twycross on Bluesky.