Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Funny vs. Charming and Charles Schulz

I believe that I’m coming to recognize that if there existed a conceptual sumo ring, Funny would find it impossible to stay in the circle with Charming. Charming weighs 900 pounds and is as quick as a juggler.

Cities will crumble. Mountains will be worn to nothing, and Andy Griffith will still be in reruns and folks will still be reading Peanuts. Face it, if Charles Schulz was into making readers guffaw instead of making readers smile, Peanuts would have burnt out around 1955 or so. The genius of Schulz is that he preferred the universality of the human drama to the subversive idolatry of quirkiness.

You think kids in 1,000 years will be into Sponge Bob? Forget about it. Charlie Brown? Heck. Yes.

Charlie Brown’s first appearance in 1950 featured a kid saying, “Here comes Charlie Brown. Good ‘ol Charlie Brown….” After Charlie Brown passes, the kid says, “How I hate him.” This was the introduction of a hero that was almost Kierkegaardian in his dogged pursuit of good despite overwhelming obstacles.

Charlie couldn’t pitch, couldn’t kick a football, and couldn’t capture the heart of the Little Red Haired Girl. I mean Come ON! Lucy didn’t think enough of him to get her invectives right. How can you call someone a “blockhead” whose head is clearly a circle? Even his dog outshone him. If anyone deserved to throw in the towel it was Charlie Brown, but every day for 50 years, he woke up and thought, today might be the day when it all turns around. He’s certainly a hero for the ages.

I think the lesson is that indestructible faith in goodness inspires us to smile. It’s not anarchic humor. It has nothing to do with underpants, flatulence or excrement. It is constructive, and though it might not make us quiver with laughter, it will last—like goodness lasts.

As a sidenote:

If you’re feeling nostalgic about Charlie Brown, and would like an emotional kick in the stomach, you should listen to Randall Goodgame’s album War and Peace. He has three tracks that explore the strip after the passing of its creator. The first of these tracks contains the idea that Charles Schulz might have died on February 12th, but the cast of Peanuts died on February 13th. The second part is a nostalgic interlude regarding Goodgame’s own personal history with the comics section of the paper, and the third track presents the idea of a cartoon auction. It starts, “No more crab grass/ no more good grief/ no more love unrequited,” and it goes on to detail cartoon items up for auction. Part of me thinks that singing a song about the death of a bunch of cartoon children, and then detailing the selling of their goods is sort of like having an anvil of melancholy dropped on your head. Still, I’m not going to say it doesn’t work. So, if you’re into “good grief,” you should check it out.

7 Responses to “Funny vs. Charming and Charles Schulz”

Julie comments:
Wednesday, June 13th, 2007

So where would, say, Cantebury Tales, fit? Its humor can be quite crass but I would still consider the tales timeless. Why? Answer me NOW, Zach!!

Zach comments:
Thursday, June 14th, 2007

I confess I have only the most general knowledge of Canterbury Tales, but if you demand an answer, let me take a whack (A completely ill-informed whack).

First, I might suggest that the reason you find it timeless has little to do with the crass humor. I doubt that you lean back in your chair with the book in your lap and go, “that crass humor is TIMELESS!” More likely, you find the archetypes in the work things that transcend time. Also, do you think Canterbury Tales has something in it that is redemptive? Does the depravity act as a foil when you come across goodness? If this is the case, then the effectiveness of the depravity is to minimize itself and elevate the good. If this is not the case, I wonder do the Canterbury Tales have wide appeal? I guess I’m asking if people read it for the stories or because of the privileged place it serves in the history of the Medieval Age? I mean, nobody reads Samuel Pepys diaries in the way in which one reads the Illiad. When I worked at Barnes and Noble we had an audio book of the diaries read by the remarkable Kenneth Branagh, and we couldn’t give it away. Also, are all the tales timeless, or are some more timeless than others? For instance, when people put a tale in a compilation, what makes them choose one tale over another? Does it have anything to do with universals or is it more related to poop jokes?

One thing is clear. I need to read Canterbury Tales.

Zach comments:
Thursday, June 14th, 2007

Also, why the heck do I have a butterfly by my name?

h* comments:
Friday, June 15th, 2007

“Barnes and NobleS?”
surely you, a former world-renowned bookseller knows better.
for shame.

Zach comments:
Friday, June 15th, 2007

How humiliating. I have corrected the unfortunate misspelling(sp?).

h* comments:
Saturday, June 16th, 2007

thanks. nothing personal. just odd the majority of the population calls it by its incorrect name. kinda weirds me out.
what are your thoughts on the likes of “emperor’s new groove,” “napoleon d.,” and the like? spongebob isn’t all potty humor… will random misfit quirky endure your qualifications of lasting for future generations?

Zach comments:
Saturday, June 16th, 2007

I don’t think the Emporer’s New Groove or Napoleon Dynamite will stand the test of time. The sort of heavy punch line/ non-sequitur humor is a product of its own culture. Before long, the culture changes, and we’re stuck with Jerry Lewis movies (Cinderfella? Seriously?). I think it was Michael Horton who quipped, “He that weds the spirit of the age is soon a widower.”

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