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Maud the Mirthful Mule – F. Opper

Maud the Mirthful Mule by F. Opper spins in reaction to being pinched by crabs and lobsters.

I made a free mini-zine for the Santa Rosa Zine Fest this past weekend at the Northwest branch in Santa Rosa, California. This post basically includes all the contents of the zine for you. I gave them away when anyone asked about swaps, or if we just visited, or I bought a zine from them. The selection of comic panels are what I used for interior pages, and if you unfolded the whole thing, you’d see the full-color Sunday strip, like a mini poster. I had a blast seeing everyone, enjoying a little sunshine, and swapping with everyone, too.

A few favorite panels from F. Opper’s Maud the Mirthful Mule, from 1907. Frederick Burr Opper created an entire Opper-verse on newspaper comics pages in the early 20th Century. Different strips with characters as popular then as any pop culture favorite today, like Happy Hooligan, Alphonse and Gaston, Maud, and more. The dynamic drawing found in his comic strips inspires artists today.

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See below for the full strip for this panel.

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.

RIP Trina Robbins

Trina Robbins speaking at the 2023 WonderCon in Anaheim, California. Photo by Gage Skidmore via Wikimedia

I did not know Trina Robbins very well, but she has impacted my thinking and my work. She was the kind of person that, after hearing her stories and reading her work, I have a deep appreciation for what she accomplished, and I wish I could have gotten to know her more and talked with her about something we share — a passion for the work of comics history.

I had the pleasure of meeting her a couple of times in the past few years. The first time I met Trina was when I joined her on a panel at FanExpo in San Francisco in November 2022. I remember it as the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and our panel topic was the centennial of the birth of Peanuts cartoonist Charles M. Schulz. Cartoonist and maze master Joe Wos, who organized the panel, invited Lex Fajardo, the editorial director for Schulz Creative Associates, and me (as curator of the Schulz Museum) to join him and Trina in a wide-ranging discussion of Schulz and his impact on cartooning. Trina was the only one of us to have really known Charles Schulz, bringing not only her stories of meeting Sparky (as he was known to those who knew him) but also her perspective as a Bay Area cartoonist and younger contemporary to him. It was fascinating and, of course, a lot of fun. Few people can tell the story about getting Charles Schulz to contribute a piece to a collection of cartoonists’ nude portraits.

Trina was in high demand that weekend, rushing from panel to table, signings, and other events that day. She joined us a few minutes late and had to leave the panel early for her next commitment, so I didn’t really get a chance to visit with her in that first meeting, though I got to basically sit next to her and hear her tell stories for an hour or so.

I’m so glad I remembered to bring my tape recorder with me, so I at least got audio of the panel—most of it, at least. The brand-new batteries I installed died, and I had to switch to my phone, but something went wrong—don’t try to talk on a panel and record yourself simultaneously if you can help it. At least I got a good chunk of our talk, which is now in the Schulz Museum’s archives.

The next time I saw her was at San Diego Comic-Con in July 2023, when we both had books nominated for an Eisner Award in the same category: Best Comics-Related Book. Attending the Eisner Awards is another story, but there’s a little time as people arrive and get settled in to say a few hellos. I saw her and said hello, and wished her good luck. I’m not confident she remembered me or even knew I was one of the other authors in her category, but she was very gracious. I was so overwhelmed just being in the room, so I don’t remember any other details, especially after Nat Gertler and I were announced as winning the category.

Though she was not awarded an Eisner that night (I thought she would win), her book about Gladys Parker is fabulous. Just as all of her historical work is not only well done but groundbreaking and essential reading. Comics is a rich field for study and enjoyment, enriching our lives as readers, thinkers, artists, and whole people. Trina brought that home, especially preserving, sharing, valuing, promoting, and shouting about women in comics from the rooftops.

After meeting Trina, hearing about her work, and finding her books, I looked at my own writing, my own thinking, and my own historical work and asked myself, “Where are the women?” In one project in particular that I’ve been slowly working on for a couple of years, a collection of short historical essays about the working methods of cartoonists, there were very few women initially. Now, it’s better, but there’s always room to improve. Thank you, Trina, for your work, for being wholly you.

UPDATE:

Andrew Farago compiled a wonderful collection of remembrances of Trina Robbins for The Comics Journal if you’ve not seen it yet.

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.

I have a new book out! The Art and Life of Charles M. Schulz in 100 Objects

It’s hard to believe, but I had a book come out on November 1st! You can get it anywhere good books are sold, but if you buy it from the Charles M. Schulz Museum, it will be signed by none other than Jean Schulz!

Working with Jeannie on the book was a very special experience. I get to work with her quite a bit developing exhibitions for the Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California, and for Snoopy Museum Tokyo, and she’s always happy to pitch in with research — connecting me to contacts, making ID’s in photos, and sharing memories. But this was different. We got to reflect on Sparky as an entire person together and dig into various parts of his life and personality we’ve not done a lot about at the museum for whatever reasons.

The book is almost like a visit to the Schulz Museum — 100 Objects from the museum’s collections are featured in gorgeous detailed photos, and a bit of history is shared about each, often with other supporting images of other objects that help tell the story. We also asked 50 contributors, from cartoonists, celebrities, politicians, friends, and members of the Schulz family, to share their own stories and remembrances related to these objects.

Interior spread from 100 Objects

All of us are very proud of the book, and I hope you will like it, too. It’s out just in time for the holiday gift-giving season, so if you know someone who loves Peanuts (and who doesn’t?), this is something a little different and totally new they will love. If you do buy a copy, be sure to rate and review it wherever you bought it, as it helps other fans find the book. Thank you!

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.

What is a Squib? A little newspaper history

Squib — That’s the word I spent a couple of days trying to find. So, what is a newspaper squib?

The word has a few meanings, and according to Webster’s I’m interested in the least meaningful meaning: “a short humorous or satiric writing or speech, a short news item; esp; FILLER.”

This week, while researching something else, I came upon a sort-of cartoon, but didn’t run as a cartoon as such, but was just … filler. What’s wonderful about being able to browse millions of pages of archival newspapers is the access, but there’s a downside — interpretation. I was curious if any scholarship or just collected thought had been put together around these smallest of memes (in the dictionary sense), but wasn’t sure what to call them to find anything. Often unsigned, there were many that seem to have been distributed by syndicates, and no doubt, some newspaper staff were capable of coming up with their own, as well.

A few examples:

MILITANT MARY — Arguably a single-panel comic, and not a squib, but the line of definition between them is hazy at best.
DAILY BIRTHDAY PARTY — “George Horton, the noted American diplomat, who has represented the interests of this country in Greece and Turkey for many years, and who is the author of a great number of very good books …”

“Dr. Samuel Johnson wrote his famous “Rasselas” in the evenings of a single week, to meet the expenses of his mother’s funeral.”

Stumped museum curator — can you help?

Late 19th Century mystery card printed with the letter a and numeral 10 at the top and the names G. Robbins, Miss Harrison, J. F. Hull, Gracie Battis. And at the bottom of the card, a capital M.

I’ve worked in History and museums for the better part of 20 years …

Late 19th Century mystery card printed with the letter a and numeral 10 at the top and the names G. Robbins, Miss Harrison, J. F. Hull, Gracie Battis. And at the bottom of the card, a capital M.

So, it was natural my cousin sent someone to me when they found something odd while removing an old chimney in an old house in Nebraska. “What is it?” they asked. It was a little card with some words and letters and numbers printed on it. The longer I looked, the less sense it made. I had no idea. In fact, it’s been a few years since they asked, and I still have no idea.

Running across this photo again I’d kept for reference, I got back in touch with the finder and asked if he had any answers — Still no.

I’d lost any details I’d had, so he kindly sent me more info:
The card is 2″ wide, 3.5″ tall and totally blank on the back. Much smaller than I assumed it would be.

With an ornamental border it reads:

a 10
G. Robbins
Miss Harrison,
J. F. Hull
Gracie Battis
M

And that’s all I know about it. Do you have any ideas?
Link to the biggest version of image I have: https://www.flickr.com/photos/benjclark/49592317168

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.

Book Review: Montaigne in Barn Boots

Philosophy and HumorMontaigne in Barn Boots by Michael Perry

Author Michael Perry opens by describing laying on a gurney with a kidney stone and it made him think of Montaigne. Having had a kidney stone or two in my day, I can say I didn’t do much thinking, but any and every distraction was welcome. His book in hand I thought, ‘This is someone I can learn from.’ It also had an image of Montaigne wearing an Elmer Fudd hat on the cover — how could I resist?

Michael Perry is a hick. An NPR listening one, but a bonafide bumpkin from rural Wisconsin. And his approach as a writer is a wonderful blend of Dave Berry-esque humor and E. B. White’s reflective essays on life at his farm in Maine.

But don’t be fooled by Perry’s “Aw shucks” demeanor. He dives deep into not only the works of the 16th Century French nobleman-essayist, but also into his translators, devotees, and critics, flipping through each and finding the humor and wisdom for consideration in each encounter. Honestly, I thought Perry’s book would be a collection of Montaigne’s greatest quotes with a few essays built around them, but it’s much more than that.

One thing I learned, Montaigne was 38-years-old when he started writing his essays, finding wisdom with reflection. It happens to be the birthday I’ll have this year and I probably shouldn’t ignore my own copy of Montaigne on the shelf. Over the years, I’ve read from it a couple times, opening it to dip in and out seeing what I can find. Not like a miner desperately swirling his pan for gold. More like the weird uncle pinching choice bits of meat in the kitchen before the roast goes to the table. Did Horace B. Taylor, the previous owner of my copy as a student at the University of Montana sometime in the 1950s ever open it? Judging by the crispness of the pages and the tightness of the binding, I think not.

Perry follows Montaigne into all parts of life, including Friendship, Marriage, Sex, and yes, Farts (officially funny if you were wondering.) Perry is honest, making himself vulnerable exploring all of these subjects and many more. As a reader I found myself nodding in agreement, appreciating his willingness to not hide behind the page as a writer but to lay life out for all of us, that we can connect over our common humanity. Even if it’s over fart stories.

RECOMMENDED

Michael Perry quotes Montaigne that the study philosophy is really a preparation for death. Perry comes to the same conclusions, thinking on experiences of his life, love marriage, children, writing, and working on an ambulance crew. After reading and loving “Montaigne in Barn Boots” is not the preparation for death but appreciate our commonalities and a better appreciation of our lives.

(c) Lincoln Journal Star
This review first appeared in print December 12, 2017

Benjamin L. Clark writes historical mysteries and works as a history museum curator.

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How to know how old anything is

Dating Old Stuff

man cleans old painting
“How you doin’?”

Learning how to date things is both science and art. Of course, I don’t mean engaging in a romantic experience with the objects, but telling how old a thing is.

Like you’ve probably heard about bank tellers, who are trained to spot counterfeit currency by handling a lot of real currency, the same is true for museum and archive professionals. We learn to recognize things for what they are by handling a lot of similar stuff. Well seasoned collectors are the same. Being able to observe characteristics of an object allows us to learn more than is on the surface.

Curators track not only the history of the artifacts they care for in the way the object was used, but also how it is used after it enters a museum’s collections, like if it was studied for a publication, or if it appeared in an exhibit somewhere. This includes keeping an archive of related materials, like news clippings from exhibits. I recently received a news clipping from an exhibit, but there was no date on the clipping, from the newspaper or otherwise (a handwritten date is also great if it’s done). So, I wanted the clipping, but when did it come out?

Clues

On the front of the article, the gentleman on the left (not in the painting) looked all too familiar. No, he’s not me, but he could have been at one time. I remember the mid-1990s well, and that’s exactly how I dressed and most young men dressed at the time. But, what year, exactly? I can’t really tell from the photo if it’s 1993 or 1998. I know the exhibit and museum are in Nebraska (I am too), so I know wearing a flannel shirt and jeans really isn’t a good indicator of the season, so I’m can’t be sure of the month just from this photo. So, on the front of the article, the part I want, there’s not much to tell me the exact date of the article beyond it’s from the mid-1990s. Probably. 

Flipping the clipping over, there are a few other bits that may be helpful, but best of all, there’s a movie schedule!

Today, many of these Omaha theaters are now gone, or if they still exist have been bought out. They also probably don’t have records on hand for when they showed which movies. Luckily for us, we have IMDB. I recognized some of these movies but didn’t remember exactly when they came out. (Who could forget Beverly Hills Ninja? Just me? Ok.) Fortunately, there were enough films here to hone in on a date where movies on the way out, and movies that had just debuted overlap. Charting it, we’ve got it down to the last two weeks in January 1997. That’s a pretty narrow window, and frankly good enough for documenting this article for my files. 

To get the date even closer I could go through microfilm/digitized copies from those weeks and find the article, but that would take time I just can’t devote when January 1997 is good enough.  

 

Curatorial Pipe Dreams

Admittedly, I lucked out on this clipping. I’ve got many others in our archives that just don’t have much to go on at all. In fact, it’s so obscure I can only hope one day someone develops the technology where I can run an image recognition of the scanned clipping and it’ll find the correct article within the digitized newspaper somewhere online. Wouldn’t that me amazing? Maybe someday.

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes historical mysteries and works as a history museum curator.

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Guest Post from Radha Vastal, author of the Kitty Weeks Mysteries

Murder Between the Lines by Radha Vastal

One of the most enjoyable parts of researching …

Murder Between the Lines by Radha VastalDelving into the details of the past to create a realistic world and a period-appropriate mystery in which challenges and obstacles arise from the mundane realities of life in New York City during the 1910s, is for me, one of the most enjoyable parts of researching and writing the Kitty Weeks Mystery series.  So, for instance, in both A Front Page Affair and Murder Between the Lines the central mystery is connected with little-known actual events that occurred during the time, and these events feed into the plot right down to the day and date that they actually took place.

In Murder Between the Lines, the dead girl at the center of the mystery is known to be a sleepwalker and her sleepwalking is attributed to nervous tension brought on by too much schoolwork.  That was a perfectly reasonable causal explanation in the 1910s!  The schoolgirl’s death was inspired by a news story from late 1915, which I came across while scanning through the New York Times from November of 1915 to about February of 1916.  I knew that was the timeframe in which I wanted to set the second book; about 3 or 4 months would have elapsed since the events in A Front Page Affair, and I wanted to open things up with President Wilson’s second marriage.  While flipping through the papers I read about the “Girl Somnambulist Frozen to Death” and immediately knew I had found my crime/possible crime.

A Front Page Affair by Radha VatsalMost of my research is done through primary sources: newspapers, career guides, self-help books, medical books, etiquette guides, advertisements and so on… I also look at secondary sources, but then always pivot back to read the sources from the period that are referenced.  In terms of writing historical fiction, one of the most interesting things for me is not presenting events as we might understand them today, but trying to understand how the same events were perceived during their time.  So, in the case of the sleepwalker found frozen to death, in the 2010s, we would immediately question “too much schoolwork” as a cause, but in the 1910s, that opinion was backed up by doctors and medical books.  And in fact, in the course of Kitty’s investigations, she speaks to a “nerve specialist” who tells her that girls who study too hard or work too much (like herself) are prone to all sorts of diseases.  She has to get past that in order to solve the mystery.

About the Author:

Radha Vatsal is the author of the Kitty Weeks mystery series. Her latest book, Murder between the Lines (Sourcebooks), was published May 2.

 

The bookseller that started Memorial Day

Civil War era token for Henry C. Welles, Druggist and Bookseller, Waterloo, New York

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Memorial Day was typically a fun holiday for me and mine. It usually meant cookouts and warm weather. These don’t always go together in Nebraska where I grew up. Every few years it would mean a sojourn out to the family cemetery to lay flowers on graves, almost entirely for relatives I never knew. I enjoyed the quiet graveyard by the little abandoned church and read the familiar names- names I had only heard in stories. I liked trying to find the oldest markers, trying to decipher the military markers, and always stopping to admire the stone featuring a detailed drawing and patent number awarded to my kin for some kind of stump grinding device.

What does Memorial Day have to do with books? Henry Carter Welles was a hyphen bookseller. Not another Barber-Bookseller, but a more common Druggist-Bookseller. Welles, born in 1821, was too old to serve during the Civil War. Sure, there are many, many recorded volunteers who were in their 40s, and beyond, but it was not the norm. However, Mr. Welles, like the rest of the nation, was certainly thinking about the war and how many boys from home never returned.

At a social gathering in the summer of 1865, Welles suggested that a day should be set aside to honor the dead of the Civil War. The next year, he repeated his suggestion to General John B. Murray. The two men and a group of local citizens gained the support of the village, and on May 5, 1866, the first complete observance of Memorial Day took place in Waterloo, NY.

On that day, civic societies joined the procession led by veterans marching to martial music to the three existing cemeteries. At each cemetery there were impressive and lengthy services including speeches by General Murray and a local clergyman. The ceremonies were repeated on May 5, 1867.

Henry C. Welles died in July 1868 but had lived long enough to see Memorial Day nationally proclaimed by General John Logan, the first commander of the Grand Army of the Republic. The GAR was the veteran’s organization for Union vets of the Civil War. This was General Order No. 11 establishing “Decoration Day” as it was then known. The date of the order was May 5, 1868, exactly two years after Waterloo’s first observance. That year Waterloo joined other communities in the nation by having their ceremony on May 30.

The Centennial Committee, formed in Waterloo, New York for the 100th observance in 1966, found old newspapers from the 1860s honoring Henry C. Welles, crediting him for suggesting the first Memorial Day. Until that time it was believed that General Murray started Decoration Day.

So, we have one more to remember this Memorial Day. Henry C. Welles, the bookman who helped organize recognition for those who preserved our Union.

At least, that’s how it goes officially. Since I first wrote this, there has been a lot more historical research done in the matter of the founding of Memorial Day. 

Pictured above is what coin collectors refer to as a store card. It’s a token advertising a particular establishment, Mr. Welles in this case around 1861, minted these tokens. Tokens were widely used as small change, usually, pennies during the Civil War since there was a shortage of official minted money. This was back when our change actually had intrinsic value, unlike today. So, merchants of all sorts saw an opportunity to spread the word about their particular business. However, the story goes, one saloon keeper in New York City took it too far and minted as many as one million tokens with his name and “Remit for 1 Cent”. When the NYC streetcar company tried to remit the hundreds of thousands they’d received for fares, he told them to jump in a lake. They went to Congress, which created stricter laws about private citizens minting US currency.

About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.