The current underground comix “movement” is not that current and not quite a movement, Daniel Raeburn, editor and publisher of The Imp magazine, told Madison residents Thursday night at the Elvehjem Museum of Art.

Raeburn started the magazine as a way to critique underground comic books. In his discussion, he talked about the history and business of underground commix.

“I’m here to talk about underground comix,” Raeburn said. “I’m not going to talk about Garfield, Spiderman, or the Hulk.” The spelling “comix” is a deliberate way to distinguish the style of the underground movement from that of the mainstream comics industry.

The cult following attracted by this specific style of comic book is not well known. The comics themselves are not mainstream.

Although most people have never heard the name of some comics, Raeburn disputes their cult-like connotations.

“The term ‘underground’ is kind of misleading,” Raeburn said. He went on to explain that some of the earliest underground comic books had monthly sales of about 40,000 copies.

Underground comic books have been around since the 1800s, when a Swiss high school teacher drew faces that looked stereotypically dumb or aggressive to break down stereotypes. Though the beginnings of underground comix seemed innocent, a new art form emerged after World War I depicting explicit sex scenes.

“Call on pornographers to be the first in line to exploit new mediums,” Raeburn joked.

Underground comics were packaged with bootlegged liquor during the Prohibition, and when people purchased booze during the ’20s, some also bought the racy comics.

Even though the scenes were sexy enough for some, Raeburn theorizes that these books were not used as masturbatory devices.

The “Tijuana Bibles,” as they were called, also had political messages. One implicit theme was that of a lower-class, blue-collar worker hooking up with a richer, more powerful stereotype.

“To me, this is a product of the Depression,” Raeburn said.

During the early ’60s, there was a boom in comix that revolved around mind-expanding drugs and the counterculture, like “Zap” and “Freak Brothers.” At the time, comics were peddled at head shops, sex shops and health-food stores.

Even though some comix readers feel underground comix have not been around since the mid-1970s, Raeburn begged to differ.

“[Underground comix writer] J. T. Chick wrote has sold more than 500 million comic books in the past 50 years,” Raeburn said. He added that the art was good, although the story lines felt manufactured in Chick’s highly religious work, which targets the poorest sections of society.

And now, some new comix authors are hitting the mainstream by getting mainstream publisher contracts and winning awards in competition with other trade books.

James Danky, director of the Center for the History of Print at the University of Wisconsin, weighed in why he helped bring Raeburn to speak at UW.

“I was knocked out by The Imp,” Danky said. “He’s one of the most savvy and sophisticated critics I’ve read, and I’ve read comic books my whole life.”