Monday, 24 July 2006 04:28 pm
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deckardcanineThis weekend, I finished three things I started a while ago, none of them important. One was a word search collection from ages back, having stopped before the theme of mythical giants -- some of which even Google couldn't corroborate (Hapmouch?). Another was Tales of Symphonia, one of the longest games I've ever played and arguably the most packed. I probably haven't been this excited to beat a video game in years. But I'd like to focus on the third: 100 Years of Comic Strips, a vast coffee table-style collection.
If any interest of mine renders me a geek, in the sense of specialization rather than mere uncoolness, it's comic strips. Unfortunately, my interest still wasn't strong enough for much of the book, which consists of a multi-page general historical commentary followed by 400+ pages of uncommented strips themselves. I get the impression that the authors had a primarily educational rather than entertaining intent. This impression is reinforced by the high number of strips that show people making or reading comics.
Part of the problem is that the book gives short shrift to the later comics. This makes sense in that we already know the later stuff pretty well -- except that in this case, "later" means after 1940. I'd like to have seen more of the interim stuff. I decided to content myself with the four Sundays' worth of "Pogo" from 1955.
Another problem is that from an educational standpoint, it had some trouble with distribution. I saw far more than enough of the Katzenjammer Kids and George Herriman's "The Family Upstairs." Did Bill Blackbeard, James Vance, and Dale Crain think they were still especially funny today?
Finally, the jacket is misleading. It mentions Cathy's recent marriage, but the one "Cathy" strip included has nothing to do with it (no big loss, IMO). More grievously, it says that Dr. Seuss produced a comic featuring the first caped superhero -- but it's not among any of the included Seuss strips! Not that I didn't like the work of his that was there -- quite an oasis of timelessness -- but what a letdown.
Well, I did appreciate some of the education, getting to know famous ones from "Little Nemo" to "Flash Gordon." Here are a few interesting observations:
1. I knew "The Yellow Kid" was the earliest comic strip, but I didn't know the humor was almost invisible now.
2. The early stuff included several comics that followed a single theme more closely than almost any modern comic, and that's saying something. "Alfonse & Gaston," for instance, was always about two guys who said something along the lines of "After you" until it was too late for either of them to make their move. The result is actually not as bad as it sounds, with what variety they work in. I found the comic more readable than many.
3. I knew that the medium started for commercial rather than artistic purposes, but I never realized how up front about it they used to be. The Katzenjammer Kids, Alfonse & Gaston, and others had easy crossovers because they appeared under the same name -- not a signed cartoonist, but William Randolph Hearst. Could you imagine seeing half the comics page today simply stamped by the Waltons?
4. The earliest comic to bring an actual smile to my face, if not better, was "Hugo Hercules." More than 100 years old now, the exhibited strip shows Hugo attempting to kick a football over a house but kicking the house instead. The house sails off spinning, ultimately caught on the shoulders of a swift Hugo. Neither the house nor the people in it suffer any damage, and Hugo is lauded. My dad got a kick out of it too, NPI.
5. I knew the comics used to be more violent, but I never really knew the extent. Turns out that that greater violence wasn't just in gag form either. Seeing Dick Tracy shoot a man between the eyes... dang.
6. Ever hear someone say you'll either love or hate/not get something and find them wrong? Happens a lot to me, and this time it was "Krazy Kat" as warranted by Bill Watterson. I see much of the appeal and the influence it had on comics from "Broomhilda" to "Mutts" to "Prickly City" (I know, argh), but all I saw were some minimalist early weekdays squeezed into an even tinier space than today followed by a few Sundays from the '40s. Not enough to fall in love, altho I was intrigued by the fact that the Kat was either openly gay or more prone to sex changes than an oyster.
7. Action comic strips seemed to reach a new high for volume in the '30s. For the most part, they are laughably dated pulp.
8. This is, as I said, a vast book, yet many of the full-page strips had tiny text. Just how big were they printed back then, anyway?
9. Bigger isn't always better. There's something to be said for the capacity for more detail in action, artwork, and dialog, but sometimes the combination tries modern patience. "The Family Upstairs," for example, was prone to running at the mouth without really adding anything to the gag.
10. It always interested me to come across an early version of a familiar comic, even one I don't like. I have to admit that the geezers of today really were among the best of their original time. Many have barely changed in any way, but "Blondie" was quite something back in 1932. Blondie was preparing to leave Dagwood forever, not for lack of love (I suppose that's one nice thing about "Blondie") but because his wealthy parents didn't approve her status. Just the appearance of an ongoing arc was a shock, as well as her different appearance, but the real shock came when Dagwood went on a hunger strike that lasted 25 days before his folks let them marry. This is Dagwood Bumstead of snooze-'n'-sandwich fame we're discussing! Does marriage change a guy or what?
And even amid the dramatic storylines (they didn't end there), many a corny joke ensued. It was kind of like watching Richard Pryor's imitation of his own heart attack, tho not as hilarious. Oh, to have Young & Lebrun give way to that spunk.
If I ever fulfill my on-again-off-again dream of becoming a cartoonist, please remind anyone who tries to perpetuate it after me that I said no.
If any interest of mine renders me a geek, in the sense of specialization rather than mere uncoolness, it's comic strips. Unfortunately, my interest still wasn't strong enough for much of the book, which consists of a multi-page general historical commentary followed by 400+ pages of uncommented strips themselves. I get the impression that the authors had a primarily educational rather than entertaining intent. This impression is reinforced by the high number of strips that show people making or reading comics.
Part of the problem is that the book gives short shrift to the later comics. This makes sense in that we already know the later stuff pretty well -- except that in this case, "later" means after 1940. I'd like to have seen more of the interim stuff. I decided to content myself with the four Sundays' worth of "Pogo" from 1955.
Another problem is that from an educational standpoint, it had some trouble with distribution. I saw far more than enough of the Katzenjammer Kids and George Herriman's "The Family Upstairs." Did Bill Blackbeard, James Vance, and Dale Crain think they were still especially funny today?
Finally, the jacket is misleading. It mentions Cathy's recent marriage, but the one "Cathy" strip included has nothing to do with it (no big loss, IMO). More grievously, it says that Dr. Seuss produced a comic featuring the first caped superhero -- but it's not among any of the included Seuss strips! Not that I didn't like the work of his that was there -- quite an oasis of timelessness -- but what a letdown.
Well, I did appreciate some of the education, getting to know famous ones from "Little Nemo" to "Flash Gordon." Here are a few interesting observations:
1. I knew "The Yellow Kid" was the earliest comic strip, but I didn't know the humor was almost invisible now.
2. The early stuff included several comics that followed a single theme more closely than almost any modern comic, and that's saying something. "Alfonse & Gaston," for instance, was always about two guys who said something along the lines of "After you" until it was too late for either of them to make their move. The result is actually not as bad as it sounds, with what variety they work in. I found the comic more readable than many.
3. I knew that the medium started for commercial rather than artistic purposes, but I never realized how up front about it they used to be. The Katzenjammer Kids, Alfonse & Gaston, and others had easy crossovers because they appeared under the same name -- not a signed cartoonist, but William Randolph Hearst. Could you imagine seeing half the comics page today simply stamped by the Waltons?
4. The earliest comic to bring an actual smile to my face, if not better, was "Hugo Hercules." More than 100 years old now, the exhibited strip shows Hugo attempting to kick a football over a house but kicking the house instead. The house sails off spinning, ultimately caught on the shoulders of a swift Hugo. Neither the house nor the people in it suffer any damage, and Hugo is lauded. My dad got a kick out of it too, NPI.
5. I knew the comics used to be more violent, but I never really knew the extent. Turns out that that greater violence wasn't just in gag form either. Seeing Dick Tracy shoot a man between the eyes... dang.
6. Ever hear someone say you'll either love or hate/not get something and find them wrong? Happens a lot to me, and this time it was "Krazy Kat" as warranted by Bill Watterson. I see much of the appeal and the influence it had on comics from "Broomhilda" to "Mutts" to "Prickly City" (I know, argh), but all I saw were some minimalist early weekdays squeezed into an even tinier space than today followed by a few Sundays from the '40s. Not enough to fall in love, altho I was intrigued by the fact that the Kat was either openly gay or more prone to sex changes than an oyster.
7. Action comic strips seemed to reach a new high for volume in the '30s. For the most part, they are laughably dated pulp.
8. This is, as I said, a vast book, yet many of the full-page strips had tiny text. Just how big were they printed back then, anyway?
9. Bigger isn't always better. There's something to be said for the capacity for more detail in action, artwork, and dialog, but sometimes the combination tries modern patience. "The Family Upstairs," for example, was prone to running at the mouth without really adding anything to the gag.
10. It always interested me to come across an early version of a familiar comic, even one I don't like. I have to admit that the geezers of today really were among the best of their original time. Many have barely changed in any way, but "Blondie" was quite something back in 1932. Blondie was preparing to leave Dagwood forever, not for lack of love (I suppose that's one nice thing about "Blondie") but because his wealthy parents didn't approve her status. Just the appearance of an ongoing arc was a shock, as well as her different appearance, but the real shock came when Dagwood went on a hunger strike that lasted 25 days before his folks let them marry. This is Dagwood Bumstead of snooze-'n'-sandwich fame we're discussing! Does marriage change a guy or what?
And even amid the dramatic storylines (they didn't end there), many a corny joke ensued. It was kind of like watching Richard Pryor's imitation of his own heart attack, tho not as hilarious. Oh, to have Young & Lebrun give way to that spunk.
If I ever fulfill my on-again-off-again dream of becoming a cartoonist, please remind anyone who tries to perpetuate it after me that I said no.
no subject
And you're right about about Krazy changing sex, in the earliest strips Krazy was a "he" and later "she".