A small pile of Eek & Meek daily comic strip clippings, 1967-1970
I recently acquired some comic strip clippings for my collection, and it came with a bonus batch of clippings for a strip I don’t collect, but I’m glad to have. I don’t know much about cartoonist Howie Schnieder, but I was aware of his Eek & Meek, though I didn’t realize it ran so long! I think of it as an early 1970s strip, which may be when it was most popular. Or maybe it’s just because my own newspaper, where I read the comics through the 1980s and 1990s, did not have it. Anyway, it’s fun to look at, which is the first thing a good comic strip should achieve. It’s also pretty funny.
Eek & Meek was a gag-a-day strip about anthropomorphic mice, though much later they would turn into people. I much prefer these mouse designs, though. The humor reminds me of early Johnny Hart B.C., and there’s something of Fontaine Fox in these poses. He really gets a lot of expressiveness into these characters that are really little more than stick figures, but there are other cartoonists who do this today. The drawing is interesting in its own way, as syndicates at the time became less concerned about detail and more on simplicity, or even so-called “bad” drawing, which is nearly always not actually true, but yes, much simpler compared to strips popular through the 1930s and ’40s. There’s something about it that reminds me of Stephan Pastis’s wonderful Pearls Before Swine, too. The drawing, in one sense but also the humor. I wonder if Stephan liked Eek & Meek growing up? I’ll have to ask him. Anyway, here are the eighteen clippings I have in chronological order, ranging in dates from 1967-1970:
About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.
I’m *loving* Paul C. Tumey’s latest book, The Art of Milt Gross Volume 1: Mastering Cartoon Pantomime – Judge 1923-1924. I’ve become even more interested in this era, when the old comic weeklies are still going, and newspaper comics are just getting started. Gross is a great example, from drawing cartoons for the humor weeklies and moving into newspaper cartooning, an evolution that still has room for exploration and lots of historical work. Several pioneering newspaper comic strip artists either started out with Judge and the like, or grew up reading those publications and carried that influence into their earliest strips. I also enjoyed this book because Gross’s cartoons here are still very funny.
A Milt Gross original of Dave’s Delicatessen exhibited at the Charles M. Schulz Museum. On loan from the Cartoon Art Museum, San Francisco, CA.
A couple of years ago, I curated an exhibition at the Schulz Museum on some of the comics that Charles Schulz grew up reading in the 1920s and 1930s. While working on that, I got to know the older comics I wasn’t familiar with, including Milt Gross’s newspaper comic Dave’s Delicatessen. But what I saw from that time included some racist caricatures, which, though abhorrent even then, were very widespread. However, in his earlier work found in this volume, his anti-Klan stance is loud and clear. Gross drew a number of comics ridiculing the Klan and their targeting not only of Black Americans, but also of Jewish Americans, like Milt Gross. A brave thing to do in 1920s America.
In his book, Tumey uses this delightful portrait of Gross, which was originally published in the January 24, 1925, issue of Judge. It’s a wonderful construction of photography, cartooning, and photo manipulation. The very funny Three Horses painting on the back wall caught my eye, and it did for Tumey, too. He mentions the repeated appearance of thisThree Horses image in a couple of other cartoons by Gross. One cartoon from June 1924 was published in Judge, and again later, in his comic strip Nize Baby, on October 2, 1928. But there was something familiar to me about it. Something … else.
Image courtesy the author and historian, Paul C. Tumey.
And then I half-remembered. I’d seen this before. Not the Milt Gross version, but something so similar, I feel they’re probably connected — a print of a painting that hung in some elderly relation’s home. I think it’s quite likely that Gross was lampooning a very famous work of art from the 1840s — A painting by J. H. Herring, Sr., titled “Pharaoh’s Chariot Horses.” Prints of the image were available almost immediately after the paint dried, and they (and knock-offs) remained popular for decades. So much so that these prints had essentially become kitsch by 1900. As affordable color printing became more widespread, cheaper prints of this painting quickly became available. In the original, the horses are all white. In some versions, one or all of the horses’ colors are changed. The original was round, but square and rectangular versions also spread. Herring’s powerful image also became popular as a tattoo design by the 1920s1. I think there’s at least a possibility that Gross is referencing this image and having some fun with it.
After messaging my parents, they remembered it too, which helped me solve my mystery, but it might not solve it 100% for Milt Gross’s reference.
Will Milt Gross’s version now become a tattoo? Time will tell. With Paul C. Tumey’s book (and the rest of his planned series), we will all get to know Gross’s work better, and maybe with more appreciation, we’ll see more of it. I hope so.
John F. Herring, Sr.’s The Pharaoh’s horses, 1848.
A later square tribute piece.
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The 2025 edition of something I’ve tried writing before, but never seemed to finish before February, so … we’ll try again. As gift-giving season approaches, I’m starting to be pestered by my loved ones about my Christmas wishlist. As I put a few ideas together, my list is pretty much the same every year: books, books, books, and expensive woolly socks. There have been so many amazing books that have come out or come to my attention this year. Here are the ones I’d recommend to anyone, especially to people who enjoy comics history.
Another Popeye fan and a friend got this at San Diego Comic Con this summer, and I had to borrow it immediately. It’s filled with great art from the entire world of Popeye, not only the E. C. Segar strip but also classic animation and more. If you’re already a Popeye fan or at least a Popeye appreciator, you’ll enjoy this. I don’t know whether R. C. Harvey left more finished manuscripts, but this could well be one of the last books we’ll get from one of the great comics historians.
I’ve praised this book many times, and I won’t be stopping anytime soon. Yes, I was interviewed for it, and facilitated a couple of small bits of this massive and enlightening puzzle. It’s a monumental work. This time, I don’t mean the book’s overall size, but the place it holds in our understanding of comics history. The invention of newspaper comics, and how they were actually created and put into readers’ hands, is an extremely understudied element of the story, and one that is already hard to nail down with the passing of the people involved and the binning of the technology used. Glenn was perfectly positioned not only to make sense of it but also to gather these disparate elements to tell the story. There’s more work to do, but anyone who works on this subject in the future will owe a debt of gratitude to Glenn Fleishman.
A fresh English translation of this Argentinian kid strip classic. Often compared to Schulz’s Peanuts, I think it shares stronger DNA with Ernie Bushmiller’s Nancy, but that’s me. Yes, it’s very political, but seeing the questions and observations of another place and time mirror so much of our own is a comfort, granting a nod of comforting recognition. If Mafalda can weather the storm, so can I. From what I understand, this is going to be the first of a multivolume series, so start collecting them now, or you’ll have to hunt them all down later.
Eike Exener’s previous book, Comics and the Origins of Manga: A Revisionist History, was excellent and mind-opening for me. If you’re interested in the world of comics, its global reach and evolution, and want a de-mystified understanding of manga in particular and how this rich branch of the comics family tree fits into the larger picture, get this book. I have a lot to learn about manga in general, and Exener’s books have been enlightening, making me finally feel like I’m on the right track.
The Moomin comic strip collections are not new, nor did they just come to my attention this year, but I must evangelize for this hilarious and wonderfully drawn strip every chance I get. More people need to know about it, especially American comic strip fans. Tove Jansson’s Moominvalley is a place I love to visit, where ridiculous adventures launch on preposterous whims, outlandish weirdos pop in and out of the story with even more frequency than real life. With the help of her brother Lars, she created a comic strip that should be more widely known. The Complete Moomin Comic Strip collections by Drawn & Quarterly are my preferred method to collect and read this strip (in ten volumes), but there are smaller paperback collections of single storylines that have been colored and are perfect for younger readers or anyone just wanting to give it a little try. For the holidays, let me recommend Moomin Winter, for when you just need a moment away from the crowd.
A book that is on my own Christmas wishlist! It comes out on December 9, and I’ve not seen it yet, but from what I’ve seen of The Smythes by Rea Irvin, it looks like a ton of fun and incredibly beautiful. I’ve always been an easy touch for anything related to the early days of the New Yorker magazine. I’ve read multiple biographies and memoirs of the early writers and editors there, including some of my all-time favorites like E. B. White and James Thurber. Rea Irvin is perhaps most famous as the creator of the New Yorker’s monocle-wearing classic logo/mascot/colophon character, Eustice Tilley.
This new edition has some new content from the long out-of-print earlier edition of this monumental tome. And, I don’t use the term monumental lightly. This is not only a fascinating work of comics history, it is also lovingly and gorgeously reproduces pioneering comics pages in absolutely massive reprints. The book is nearly the size of a modern newspaper sheet, so it’s still a bit smaller than these gorgeous comics were originally printed, but far larger than we typically get. Here we also have strips we never get to see by artists who would define comics as we know them today, but who did so before anything in comics was truly codified. “Gleeful anarchy,” indeed. Wild formatting, shocking color, and action that cartoonists today cannot seem to imagine.
Easily the greatest title of any book, maybe ever. Another book from the past year or so, from the early days of the New Yorker, but also incredibly charming, fun, sassy humor, and gorgeous drawings. I’m a huge fan of this book, and now of Barbara Shermund. This book has easily been the most passed-around book in my circle of comic nerds and professionals this year. This book won the Eisner Award for Best Comics-Related Book this year.
This book has been out for a few years now, but in case you haven’t seen it, it includes Patrick’s gorgeous drawings and all the fun and humor of one of the greatest comic strips currently running, Mutts. So far, it’s the closest thing we’ve got to an artist edition of Mutts. And how many books have contributions from both Eckhart Tolle and Lynda Barry? I imagine that’s a short list.
If you love Mutts by Patrick McDonnell (who wrote a foreword for this volume), Peanuts by Charles M. Schulz, the work of Mo Willems, and thought “This could use a dash of Gary Larson’s Far Side,” well, look no further. This daily strip, which Webb publishes online, has (thankfully) come out in a second annual compendium. He’s published his comic in little affordable collections, too, but these are great for passing around to friends who’ll enjoy it. These big annual collections (there’s a Volume One, as well) are fabulous, and I keep them for myself.
2025 marks the 75th anniversary for Peanuts. Yes, this book includes an essay by me, and I was on the committee that picked (and argued over) which strips to include in this very special book. This includes history, personal reflections, and so much more. It’s a very special collection. This special edition also includes a collection of stickers, mini posters, a patch, and more, all designed by Chip Kidd!
I’m sure there are books I’ve accidentally overlooked, but for now, this is a pretty good lineup. I’d be thrilled to receive any one of these books as a gift, so I imagine the comics history nerd in your life will too (if they don’t already have it). If you’re the comic nerd, forward this to your friends and family with a note about favorites. All of the affiliate links in this post support local, independent bookshops.
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This summer, my friend Denis and another friend of his (that I don’t know, named David) took a pilgrimage through the American Midwest, visiting sites connected to comics. From the photos and stories, it sounded like an amazing trip. They are both longtime comic geeks and have a great podcast about Superman called Supermansplaining – they have an episode about their trip.
The first appearance of Popeye as seen in the Harrisburg Telegraph on January 17, 1929.
One stop they made was in Chester, Illinois, the birthplace of comic strip artist E. C. Segar. His newspaper comic strip, Thimble Theatre, became enormously popular in the 1920s. This was an era when newspaper comic strips were among the few forms of shared entertainment available to most Americans. Readers loved following the exploits of the inventor O. G. Wotasnozzle, the savvy Castor Oyl, his sister Olive Oyl, and her boyfriend … Harold Hamgravy. Then, about a decade into the strip, a side character was introduced with the immortal words: “‘Ja think I’m a cowboy?”
Of course, it’s Popeye. He was introduced to captain a boat that Castor Oyl has bought to take Bernice, the good luck Whiffle Hen, with him as he seeks his fortune. Popeye was probably meant to only be a side character, but he completely took over the strip. Fans loved the Oyls, but they went crazy for Popeye. Soon, Popeye was animated on screens and on toy store shelves.
I got into E. C. Segar’s Popeye comic strip only within the past few years. Professionally, I’m a comics historian and curator, and I work for the Charles M. Schulz Museum, creating exhibitions about Peanuts and Schulz. So, when I read that Charles Schulz said, “Popeye is immortal,”1 it got my attention. Schulz loved Segar’s Popeye and praised it often. I had to check it out myself. Luckily, there are great collections of the strip available in reprints.
To my memory, Popeye had his girlfriend or wife, Olive Oyl (I was not totally sure on this), and there was a baby in the picture at some point, Sweetpea, and there was Wimpy, who liked hamburgers but all he ever said was something about paying you back next Tuesday, and then Popeye would get in a fight with Bluto, eat some spinach and eventually kick some ass. Pretty simple, pretty blah. But here’s Schulz, who reinvented newspaper comics, giving Segar’s Popeye the highest praise he can. I had to look into it. After all, I was sure I had never seen this original Popeye, but only much later incarnations.
Luckily, there are fabulous collections available if, like me, you want to check it out. Each of these volumes have great introductions, too, by people who know what’s up:
The stories are funny, the drawings are funny, and the writing is good. Yes, it’s old, but it’s still amazing. Filled with laughs, fun, adventure, and action, I now see clearly why people still like Popeye so many years later.
So, after returning from his trip, when my friend Denis told me about a Popeye Fan Club based in Chester, Illinois, I perked up. Why hadn’t I heard of it sooner? For one thing, it’s very old school. Their website is very Internet 1.0 for those who remember the pre-social-media days of being online. They require you to send a check. There is no functioning online payment. And they print — let me say that again, nice and loud — PRINT a 32-page newsletter and mail it to you for $10 American Dollars, three times per year. No, that’s not $10 plus shipping per issue; that’s $10 for three thick, printed issues delivered to your mailbox within the continental United States. It’s such a treat to get a printed newsletter in the mail, and it brings back what are now fond memories of receiving such things in pre-Internet times. Back when you discovered your niche interests through word-of-mouth or by reading a newsletter or zine, you would mail away with a check, hoping it wasn’t a scam or had already dried up by the time you found out.
So, I sent a check through the USPS, following the instructions on the website, and I received a couple of back issues that I requested (and included payment for) and the latest issue of the club’s newsletter very quickly. All in all, a total and absolute delight.
I share this with you in the hopes that more people sign up. How they’ve kept such an enterprise afloat on $10 annual memberships, I have no idea. Maybe if there are a few more members in good standing, it’ll make it all a little easier and keep it running. CLICK HERE to see about joining up.
In my packet, I also received a membership card and a membership certificate, both of which surprised and charmed me to no end. I love being a literal “card-carrying member of the official Popeye fan club.” I think I’ll frame and hang the certificate in my office at the Charles M. Schulz Museum, though my wall space is already pretty full. I may need to make some hard choices.
Reading the newsletter, I vowed to write something worthy of publication for the club someday, and I will proudly add it to my media bio — Benjamin L. Clark, Eisner Award winning comics historian and museum curator. His work has been profiled in the Washington Post, NPR Morning Edition, CBS Sunday Morning, and the Official Popeye Fan Club Newsmagazine.
About the Author: Benjamin L. Clark writes and works as a museum curator.
As you may recall, Action Comics #1 (DC, 1938) sold for $6M not long ago, breaking all previous records for a comic book sold at auction. The sale got me playing a fun “What if?” game in my head, like you do when you hear about big lottery winners. We all do that, right? You can grab a reasonable facsimile of Action Comics #1 to enjoy this comic at home and come along with me as I “spend” $6 million on one-of-a-kind original comic art. The kind of thing that museum curators (like myself) call you up to borrow. I’ll explain in more detail at the end of this post if you’ve started at this point for some reason.
Syd Hoff
Syd Hoff’s work is among some of the most recognizable and enduring illustrated comic work of the 20th Century. You’ve read Danny and the Dinosaur, right? What about the one where they visit a museum? His book about a circus elephant who is forced to make his own way in the big city was a bigger hit at our house, Oliver.
His remarkable collection of cartoons, The Ruling Clawss, which he did under the name A. Redfield for the “Daily Worker,” was recently reissued by the New York Review of Books for the first time in almost 100 years. It’s a hilarious collection, and though a few cartoons perhaps do not carry the bite they did when they were first published, it is still filled with cartoons that give me a knowing, grim grin. I should write a full review of this book, as I don’t think I’ve seen much on it in the year or so it’s been out.
So, now that we’ve acknowledged the Socialist communicator and said nice things, let’s take out the fantasy checkbook fat enough to please a budding oligarch and go shopping.
$159, sold December 2021
It feels completely out of reality that Syd Hoff’s original cartoons and illustrations can be had for less than $200. I have *seen* uninteresting art made by unknown people sell for far more. And not very many of Hoff’s drawings seem to have been sold. Perhaps because the price has been (too) low? I loved his illustrations when I was a kid, and my kid loves them today. Syd Hoff’s work is still widely recognized and beloved. If I saw something in real life that really clicked with me, I’d be very tempted to pay my real money for his work.
Another bargain, perhaps. There are apparently seven more drawings in this lot, but we’re only shown five. More examples of Syd Hoff’s work that was not for children. These also have some rather alarming condition issues with the water damage/ damp staining, but a top-notch paper conservator could probably get that cleaned up and looking a lot better, and better conserved for future preservation. Again, I’m not worrying about that now.
If you’ve loved Syd Hoff’s work and want to learn more about his cartooning, grab that book at the top of this post and a few others of Hoff’s books, The Art of Cartooning, and The Young Cartoonist: the ABC’s of Cartooning can be found on Amazon and archive.org,
$4,755,800 – $3,480 = $4,752,320 remains to spend.
All that gorgeous Syd Hoff art would cost less than the buyer’s premium for some earlier entries. Just astonishing. To sum up the situation I have put myself in, here is a little recap:
Action Comics Number 1, sold for $6 million, image courtesy Heritage Auctions
I will buy art I like, not things I only see as “an investment,” and talk about my selections. Art I want to hang on my walls and live with and enjoy. After spending $6M on original art, conservation funding, gallery space, and state-of-the-art storage will be added as a reward, so I don’t have to worry about it as I’m splashing out for big-ticket items and won’t let my museum curator brain get too distracted about planning and worrying about caring for it all longterm. I’ve worked in museums for over twenty years, so I can’t help but think about these things.
The Rules:
The budget must be respected — I will only spend $6M and must spend all $6M.
In the interest of transparency, I will only shop publicly. Gotta show those receipts. No bidding up the next cool thing to $6M and be done. No deals with a wink and a nod to pay $6M for something not worth anywhere near that and split the difference on the back end. Let’s keep this as above board as high-end art buying can be. [cough] (**My citation of a sale somewhere *is not* an endorsement to shop there for real.**)
And let’s make the prices recent. No buying Jack Kirby art from a fanzine auction in 1972 and owning every piece by Jack Kirby to cross into private hands. So, let’s say anything purchased must be from any 2020 or more recent public sale. Also, no buying a whole comic shop for $6M.
Lastly, as curator of the Schulz Museum, it would be a conflict of interest for me to buy any Peanuts art, so there will be no Charles M. Schulz art on this list, though it’d be a dream come true to own anything by him. This adds more wiggle room to my budget because Schulz’s art is not cheap!
Comic writer and artist Bernie Mireault died this month. He was 63. I was not familiar with him or his work, but my friend and collaborator Nat Gertler, wearing his About Comics publisher’s hat, worked with Mr. Mireault to get his much-lauded comic, The Jam, back into print.
In the remembrances that followed Mireault’s passing, his work was praised and cited as being too little known for how well-regarded it is. He was described as a cartoonist’s cartoonist. About Comics made their reprint available at cost for about a week, so I grabbed a copy to see for myself what everyone was talking about.
The story opens with our would-be hero, a mere mortal, getting the upper hand in a mugging about to go very wrong. That’s something I really loved here — The Jam is about a superhero who is not superhuman. He’s a guy who wants to see some good in the world and has realized he can be part of that good. But, darker forces are gathering. Disillusioned young men are being drawn to a leader with a plan, and soon enough, the Jam has pissed off the Devil himself. So, if you read The Tick and thought, I wish this had a dash of Sandman, well, you’re in the right longbox.
Mireault’s The Jam is great! The writing and art are a lot of fun and very well done. It’s a grownup comic, but not quite what modern marketing people would call “gritty.” There was also something charming about the art that reminded me of, well, The Tick or old concert posters of the era. That late-1980s indie comic feel, from the black-and-white explosion. But the story also felt rooted in a very real vision of an actual city. There’s also a ton of technical know-how and thought going into each panel, each word balloon. I realized I was analyzing the lettering at various points and thinking about how crazy it is, but it was still really well done and fun. Reading The Jam made me think, “Yeah, comics are good.”
But, I should note that comics are rarely kind, or just. If you are having thoughts of suicide, you can reach out for support by texting or calling 988. The helpline is available 24/7 across the US and all of its territories.
Action Comics #1 (DC, 1938) sold recently for $6M, breaking all previous records for a comic book sold at auction.
Action Comics Number 1, sold for $6 million, image courtesy Heritage Auctions
$6M for one comic book? That’s *a lot* of money for a comic book. It is nearly double the previous record set only a few years ago in 2021, which I think has since been regarded as funded through someone moving crypto around.
Granted, this most recent purchase is perhaps *the* comic book. If there is one comic book to own, one of these copies would be it. I’m not begrudging the auction result. $6M is a small number in the world of fine art auctions. Even for rare books, $6M wouldn’t crack the top 10 of record auction results. But for comics, it’s enormous.
But, for $6M, you could buy something absolutely unique—not just one of a handful. Totally. Unique. And if you want to stay with comics, you can buy *a lot* of original comic art for $6M. Not just a piece or two, but an incredible collection. Original comic art is still among the best art bargains in the world, and perhaps if we play a game, I can show what I mean.
Let’s say we’ve hit some kind of Brewster’s Millionsscenario1 where we must spend $6M, and must be spent on original comic art. And not $1M in comic art and $5M on a really nice house and estate for it all. All $6M of it on comic art. I will buy stuff I like, not things as “an investment,” and talk about my selections. Art I want to hang on my walls and live with and enjoy. After spending $6M on original art, conservation funding, gallery space, and state-of-the-art storage will be added as a reward, so I don’t have to worry about it as I’m splashing out for big-ticket items and don’t let my museum curator brain get too distracted about planning and worrying about caring for it all longterm. I’ve worked in museums for over twenty years now, so I can’t help but think about these things.
Some parameters: The budget must be respected — I will only spend $6M and get as close as possible to spending all $6M.
In the interest of transparency, I will only shop publicly. Gotta show those receipts. No bidding up the next cool thing to $6M and be done. No deals with a wink and a nod to pay $6M for something not worth anywhere near that and split the difference on the back end. Let’s keep this as above board as high-end art buying can be. [cough]
And let’s make the prices recent. No buying Jack Kirby art from a fanzine auction in 1972 and owning every piece by Jack Kirby to cross into private hands. So, let’s say anything purchased must be from any 2020 or more recent public sale. Also, no buying a whole comic shop for $6M.
And lastly, as curator of the Schulz Museum, it’d be a conflict of interest for me to buy any Peanuts art, so there will be no Charles M. Schulz art on this list, though it’d be a dream come true to own anything by him.
Did I forget anything? Write me and let me. Ok, let’s go!
This particular Calvin & Hobbes Sunday has so much going for it. We get the stars of the strip doing the classic “ride downhill in a wagon” theme having a fun conversation.
I grew up in the 1980s and ’90s, so Watterson hooked me early on and was the “cannot miss” comic strip each day. Calvin & Hobbes was the strip we talked about on the playground of Ruth Hill Elementary School in Lincoln, Nebraska. I begged for the reprint paperback book collections when they came out, added them to Christmas wishlists, and celebrated the arrival of each one like a long-lost treasure. I wish I would have clipped them out of our newspaper (the Lincoln Journal-Star)! The strip is still hilarious today, even though my perspective has shifted from that of the adventurous, yearning kid to that of the beleaguered and baffled Dad. My 9-year-old has discovered Calvin & Hobbes, too, and I’ve had to do *a lot* of explaining. But it’s been a lot of fun. Still, repeat after me: Calvin sometimes makes *really* bad decisions.
Bill Watterson’s originals are incredibly rare in private hands. He kept most of his originals and has since donated the collection to the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library and Museum at Ohio State University. So, the above strip is the onlyCalvin & Hobbes original Sunday sold since 2020. After working with Charles Schulz’s original artwork for Peanuts for a few years, I finally got to see some of Watterson’s originals for Calvin & Hobbes, and I was shocked to see they were so small! He packed a lot of fine work into that small space. His art is even more impressive now than when I first saw it growing up, though even then, I knew it was something special.
Yes, I’ll have this one, too. Watterson’s dinosaurs and monsters have always been so much fun, but after I saw somewhere that Schulz admired how Watterson drew furniture, I look at that too, and admire it.
This daily, originally published on 12/30/1987, was sold at Heritage Auctions, and even in the photos they posted, the condition looks a little concerning. It’s heavily toned, and I have seen them sweeten the photos before, so I don’t quite trust it 100%, which gives me pause. However, with the promise of conservation funding at the end, I feel good diving in.
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.
The book I wrote with Peanuts fan extraordinaire Nat Gertler has been nominated for a Will Eisner Award by the people who bring you Comic-Con International in San Diego each year! Voting has closed for the comics publishing industry award, but it’s been a thrill just to be nominated. I’ve never won an award and tended to roll my eyes at the idea of being grateful for a nomination, but I get it now. This is a recognition of the hard work of *so many* people. I’m so proud and grateful to my team at the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center, our publishers Weldon-Owen, and all the fans of Charles M. Schulz, who have supported the museum and all do a part in preserving and sharing the legacy of Charles Schulz and Peanuts.
Of course, the book is still available everywhere that good books are sold, and proceeds support the Schulz Museum. You can also buy the book directly from the Schulz Museum, which is a way to support the museum doubly. You can even leave a note when you purchase to request that I sign it, and I’m happy to do that.
If you’re a fan of newspaper comics and letterpress printing and live in the North Bay Area, you won’t want to miss a special event hosted by the North Bay Letterpress Arts organization on Saturday, April 22nd. The “Sunday Funnies” event will feature a conversation with Benjamin L. Clark (me), Maia Kobabe, and Andrew Mecum, the Executive Director of NBLA, about the relationship between printing, comics, and beyond.
Maia Kobabe, who was once a member of NBLA, is an accomplished author and artist who has created beautiful books. Eir graphic novel, Gender Queer, has been widely banned (boo!), bringing em major media attention, interviews, (and a new book deal).
In addition to the conversation, there will be a short movie about the subject, live printing demonstrations, and fundraising party tricks. All guests will be treated to coffee from Retrograde, tea, donuts, and other fun snacks throughout the event.
This year, the month of May is also a memorial tribute to Dennis Renault, a political cartoonist and letterpress printer who sold Eric Johnson his iron hand press. Unfortunately, Renault passed away last fall. Examples of his work will be on display at the event, showcasing his life and legacy that perfectly embodies the spirit and wit of the “Sunday Funnies” event.
The event will take place at the North Bay Letterpress Arts studio, located at 925-D Gravenstein Hwy S, in Sebastopol, California. Doors will open at 4:00 PM, with the event ending at 6:30 PM. Sliding scale donations will be accepted in person at the event, or you can donate ahead of time online. Be sure to leave a note that it’s for the event or email the organizers.
All proceeds from the event will support the mission of NBLA, which is to democratize letterpress, lower the barrier of entry, and create more access for a wider audience, especially youth in the community. This year, NBLA is generously supported by a grant from the California Arts Council, along with support from local sponsors such as Sonoma County Libraries, the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center, the Cartoon Art Museum, Blackwing pencils, and Retrograde Coffee.
Join us for an afternoon of fascinating insights into the world of newspaper comics and letterpress printing while supporting a great cause. We hope to see you there!
