We're nearly to the end, now. We know that, and Fantagraphics --
which has been carefully, lovingly publishing these books for a dozen
years now -- knows it. But these strips don't know it. Schulz
certainly didn't know it, and his audience at the time didn't know it.
So we have to be careful to attribute any shadow we might find -- it's
probably just in our own perception.
(And "near the
end," for a strip that ran fifty years, still means there were four
years to go. And four years, as we're all about to learn, can be a really long time.)
At this point, I should probably link to posts I've done over the past decade for the previous books in the series: 1957-1958, 1959-1960, 1961-1962, 1963-1964, 1965-1966, 1967-1968, 1969-1970, 1971-1972, 1973-1974, 1975-1976, 1977-1978, 1979-1980, 1981-1982, 1983-1984, 1985-1986, 1987-1988, 1989-1990, 1991-1992, 1993-1994 and most recently 1950-1952.
And then we can dive into The Complete Peanuts, 1995 to 1996, as always by Charles M. Schulz.
Schulz's
art was getting shaky at this point, a lovably loose line that probably
annoyed him but looks just fine on the page. And his big switch from
four- to three-panel dailies was a few years in the past, and had freed
him by this point to draw dailies with however many panels he needed.
Within the space of a single week, he'd have a single long panel, then
three, then four. There are a few two-panel strips -- set-up and
punch-line, mostly -- and some three-panel strips with two small boxes
and one big one. There's even some five-panel examples, with a rat-a-tat
rhythm. Schulz was clearly enjoying himself and still adapting his
material to suit the jokes and ideas and stories he had on his board at
that moment, and that joy and experimentation comes through in his clear
and expressive art.
Story-wise, the long continuities
of the '70s were far in the past, and "storylines" tended to be just
using the same set-up -- Peppermint Pattie and Marcy unhappy at camp,
for example -- for a few gags over the course of a week. It's not as
deep as the strip's early '70s peak, obviously, but it's all funny and
true to the characters and shows Schulz was still moving forward with
his strip, even this far in. The standard set-pieces don't show up much
in these years -- not much pulling-away-the-football, hardly any
kite-eating tree, just a glancing mention of the Great Pumpkin for a
couple of days around Halloween -- as Schulz kept changing focus to keep
himself interested. There's a fair book of looking backward, usually
framed as "my grandfather said," since the Peanuts kids are eternally eight-ish, living outside of time and place in their suburban Everyneighborhood.
This
volume continues the Rerun Years, as we might call them -- he's gotten
off the back of his unseen mother's bike, and still looks just like
Linus in overalls, but he's now obsessed with having a dog. (And so ends
up "borrowing" Snoopy a lot, which Sally and Snoopy are not thrilled
about for different reasons.)
Again, this is Peanuts having dropped off from its peak. Nothing can sustain the highest heights forever. But Peanuts was always good, and individual strips would still shine out strongly. By the mid-90s, Peanuts
was no longer a strip about loneliness and alienation, as it was in the
'60s and early '70s -- in fact, at this point it was no longer a strip
"about" anything. But it was still strong, professional, funny
cartooning -- dependable and lovable.
No comments:
Post a Comment