Thursday, January 17, 2013

Book(s) Review: THE "RAGGED DICK" SERIES by Horatio Alger, Jr., edited by Charles Carter (Amazon Digital Services)

During my recent bout of "whatever-it-was-but-it-wasn't-quite-the-flu," I felt badly in need of some "comfort reading."  I found it in the unexpected form of the first six novels written by Horatio Alger, Jr., part of a recent slew of Kindle books that I downloaded using a couple of gift cards.  I was not unacquainted with the works of the famed author of "Rags to Riches" stories, having been gifted with a volume collecting RAGGED DICK and MARK, THE MATCH BOY at some point during my early teenage years.  The intervening volume, FAME AND FORTUNE, had been referenced at several points in MARK, THE MATCH BOY, but I had never read it until now, much less known that there were three additional volumes in the "series."  Calling this a "series," by the way, is severely pushing it; there is only the thinnest of connective tissue between the first three novels and the second three novels in this sextet.  A couple of minor characters from the earlier books make very brief appearances in the later books, and Ragged Dick, aka Richard Hunter, is mentioned once during the last three volumes.  That's it.

These stories, published between 1867 and 1870, were the tomes that cemented Alger's reputation and established the "formula" that would inform most of his later works: the poor boy who "struggles upward" to achieve ultimate success.  Is it really surprising that a fan of Scrooge McDuck would find such a narrative attractive?  At this early stage of his career, though, Alger had not yet settled into assembly-line production; in particular, he was paying careful attention to characterization, especially in the works featuring the wise-cracking bootblack Ragged Dick.  Wikipedia's claim that the typical Alger novel "featured a cast of stock characters: the valiant hard-working, honest youth (who knew more Latin than the villain), the noble, mysterious stranger (whom the poor boy rescued and by whom he got rewarded), the snobbish youth (cousin), and the evil squire (uncle)" isn't remotely close to the truth at this point.  Ragged Dick knows no Latin (at the start, he can barely write or read English) and needs to be weaned off of such bad habits as smoking and squandering what few cents he has on amusements; the "noble strangers" who encourage him to seek a better life are a middle-class uncle and nephew whose wishes for the bootblack are quite modest; and Dick's antagonists range from an arrogant, would-be "young gentleman" (well, even a blind Wikipedia-rootling pig finds an acorn on occasion) to a plug-ugly rival bootblack.  In positing the existence of good, bad, and indifferent characters on all socioeconomic levels, Alger's "simplistic" worldview is well in advance of a typical Hollywood movie in the age of Obama (when was the last time a businessperson was presented in a good light in a movie you saw?).  And, with repetition not yet having dulled his enthusiasm, Alger appears to take great pleasure in introducing colorful and interesting supporting players.  RAGGED DICK, FAME AND FORTUNE, and MARK, THE MATCH BOY are filled with memorable incidents and snapshots of pre-Civil War New York and the wide variety of characters who peopled its streets.  The middle-class Richard Hunter's care of the impoverished Mark, the Match Boy -- who, as you might guess, doesn't finish the story in nearly as bad a way -- brings the trilogy full circle in a satisfying manner.

With the introduction of newspaper hawker Rough and Ready (all sorts of rhymes are coming to my mind just now), we begin to see Alger's creative genius becoming a bit lazy... just a bit.  R&R comes off as basically a pale carbon copy of Ragged Dick, though his circumstances are somewhat different (he has a younger sister to care for and an evil, drunken stepfather to avoid), and Alger's pedestrian writing style seems a bit more labored in this second group of three books.  The story of BEN, THE LUGGAGE BOY seems to be dropped into the Rough and Ready saga from a parallel universe; indeed, it's almost a typical Alger story in reverse, with young Ben, alienated from his father, going to Gotham to seek his fortune, only to wind up poor, guilt-ridden, and penitent.  It's a mystery to me why Alger didn't simply present this cautionary tale as a stand-alone.

Because of his profound influence on a whole generation of upwardly mobile strivers and captains of industry, Alger deserves to be read today, and these six novels -- the first three, in particular -- are as good a place as any to direct one's attention.  Great art, they're not, but they still contain plenty of entertainment value, and not a few useful reminders of common-sense values, too.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Those Darn Real-Life Situations Always Keep Gettin' in the Way!

Between the start of spring classes and my recent bout with the runs (of the nose, that is), I won't be able to post my review of "Launchpad's Civil War" until this weekend.  Don't despair and slink away like Rhubarb McQuack's humiliated Union troops; succor and solace is on the way!

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Book Review: THE COMPLETE DICK TRACY, VOL. 14: 1951-53 by Chester Gould (IDW Publishing, 2012)

2013 smacked me in the face upon arrival with some kind of nasal malady, which explains why I haven't posted more during the latter part of the holiday break.  It's not the full-fledged flu, thank goodness, and I should be ready to go when classes begin on Monday.


*SPOILERS*

During this period of the 1950s, DICK TRACY underwent something of a paradigm shift.  After wowing his fans with that long string of famous "grotesque" villains, Chester Gould set aside the pop-art approach for a while and began to "paint" his stories with a more finely bristled brush.  As he did during the "Tommy Guns and G-Men" period of the early-to-mid-30s, Gould paid particular attention to real problems encountered by law enforcement at this time:  juvenile delinquency, cops on the take, the growth of organized crime.  At the same time, he used the opportunity to move one of his major characters forward on the maturity scale, with Junior Tracy suddenly graduating into young adulthood.  These two elements memorably intersect in the short but powerful Model Jones continuity, the best story in this volume, hands down.

This volume begins with the completion of the lengthy Crewy Lou continuity.  Now that Lou's crazy, out-of-left-field brother Brainerd is safely out of the way, the storyline gets back on track, more or less, with Tracy trying to track down the fleeing babe in the deep woods and also ascertain the whereabouts of baby daughter Bonnie Braids.  Gould really twists the screws with his melodramatic portrayal of the perils of little Bonnie; as noted by Max Allan Collins in the Introduction, the suspense is heightened by the reader's recognition that Gould is perfectly capable of bumping off any sympathetic character.  Due to the ill-considered Brainerd business, I still can't rank this story as Gould's very best, but the powerful ending at least partially redeems it.

No sooner has Tracy recovered Bonnie than his integrity is called into question.  Actually, the comic strip was catching up with real-world queries in this case.  Tracy's super-duper, ultra-modern house, introduced in 1950, had to have been paid for by someone, and inquiring readers and columnists had openly wondered at the time how Tracy could possibly have managed to scrape together the cash to purchase it on a police detective's salary.  After giving verbal excuses that are more or less convincing -- I'm inclined to choose the latter -- Tracy lets his deductive actions do the real talking, uncovering a conspiracy and clearing his name.  Gould had noticed the intense interest paid to the Kefauver Hearings on organized crime and jumped at the chance to both craft a comic-strip equivalent of a corruption investigation and tie up an annoying loose thread.

Organized crime is at the heart of this book's other major continuity, the 1952 tale of Tonsils and Mr. Crime, and Gould might also be said to have anticipated a pop phenomenon of the succeeding decade in this story.  The pop-eyed "singer" Tonsils is one of Gould's "tragic" villains -- a small-timer with flexible morals who just happens to get mixed up with worse and worse company and winds up paying the ultimate price.  The ultra-smooth "big boss" Mr. Crime, with his hidden lair and man-eating barracudas and Muerte vines (no, he doesn't have a cat, in case you're wondering), is definitely a Blofeld prototype, though the exact nature of his (presumably vast) criminal activities is left unexplained.  The irony here is that Tracy's later activities as a "space cop" in the late 60s and early 70s would include an encounter with a real supervillain, Mr. Intro.


In terms of criminal activity, the story of Model Jones, Junior Tracy's first true love, involves the smallest of small potatoes -- the thefts of parking meters by a band of JD's led by Model's brother Larry.  This, however, merely provides the backdrop for a thought-provoking examination of the eternal "nature vs. nurture" question.  Lovely Model's parents are drunks and terrible role models, and Gould clearly indicates that we are to regard them as responsible for Larry's turning to the dark side.  This is rather atypical for the cartoonist, who usually portrayed his bad guys as agents of their own fates.  At the same time, however, Model is a dutiful, honest youngster who has been raised by the same parents.  The "liberal" message of the story is thereby subverted, at least in part, and we are left to consider the role of personal responsibility in one's development.  I've just been reading (or, in several cases, rereading) Horatio Alger's cycle of RAGGED DICK novels, and that author makes the same point, that one's forebears can, but do not have to, determine the manner in which one will behave; individuals do indeed have an innate free will to choose the course that they will take.  Not that making the right choices does Model any good in the end.  The conclusion of this story hits you with the force of a baseball bat to the gut; just imagine how it must have felt for those readers who, like Max Collins, first encountered this story in serialized form in Harvey Comics' TRACY reprint title.  You still have to be able to buy Junior Tracy's sudden leap from callow boyhood to passionate young manhood -- for someone so inexperienced in matters of the heart, he's mighty quick on the draw with that offer of marriage! -- but the transition had to happen sometime, and it's just as well that it occurred in the context of a classic melodrama such as this.

To be sure, more "grotesques" are on the way, but Gould's successful exploitation of less eye-catching themes in this volume helps to explain why many TRACY fans regard the early 50s as one of the most fertile periods of the strip.

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BONUS TIME!  Here's Chester Gould's appearance on What's My Line? (the original, classy CBS version, not the somewhat more loosely-wound syndicated one with Soupy Sales that some of you may remember) in 1956.
 

Friday, January 4, 2013

Movie Review: LINCOLN (Touchstone/DreamWorks/20th Century Fox, 2012)


Do we really need a talky, 2 1/2 hour drama about Abraham Lincoln in this day and age?  Yes, apparently we do, and quite desperately, it would seem.  Between some moviegoers reportedly being shocked -- shocked! -- at the (unseen) assassination that concludes Steven Spielberg's film and Internet Movie Database posters asking such questions as, "Why didn't they show Oswald?" and "Where's the scene in which Lincoln cut down the cherry tree?", I can't quarrel with any attempt to reacquaint some of the more benighted members of our society with the words and deeds of the Great Emancipator.  The shame is that many of the very folks who would legitimately benefit from a viewing of this slow-paced, but frequently moving, film would probably have opted for the axe-swinging, ass-kicking version of Lincoln that appeared in another film released earlier in 2012.

It is rather misleading to say that Lincoln is "based on" Doris Kearns Goodwin's bestseller TEAM OF RIVALS.  Actually, Tony Kushner's screenplay covers only a small portion of Lincoln's Presidency, namely, the first few months of 1865.  The focus here is on the reelected Lincoln's simultaneous efforts to bring the Civil War to a conclusion and ram the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery through a divided House of Representatives.  While the film has its hagiographical aspects, the most striking thing about it is the matter-of-fact way in which it depicts the horse-trading, vote-buying, and occasional dishonesty in which Lincoln and his subordinates had to engage in order to ensure passage of the Amendment.  I'm glad that Spielberg refused to go the "Saint Abraham" route and instead depicted Lincoln as a practical politician who was not above using patronage and similar tactics to achieve a grander goal.

The acting in Lincoln can hardly be faulted.  Daniel Day-Lewis has received all sorts of praise for his portrayal of Lincoln, and rightfully so, but David Straithairn as Secretary of State William Seward and Tommy Lee Jones as misanthropic Radical Republican firebrand Thaddeus Stevens are equally fine.  James Spader provides a welcome touch of comic relief as one of the vaguely shady politicoes employed by Seward and, later, Lincoln to arm-twist recalcitrant Democrats into supporting the Amendment.  Sally Field is vaguely irritating as the impossible Mary Lincoln, but I suppose that that was the whole point.

Lincoln isn't exactly a lighthearted night at the movies, but it tells a compelling story that all Americans need to hear.

An Expensive Counter-Argument

From the Disney Comics Mailing List comes mention of the following limited-press item currently offered on eBay:


As knowledgeable Disney comics fans will probably gather from the subtitle, this is meant to be a rebuttal of sorts of HOW TO READ DONALD DUCK, the notorious Marxist critique of Carl Barks' DONALD DUCK and UNCLE $CROOGE stories.  All well and good -- a valuable contribution to a long-standing debate over the Duck comics' influence on American pop culture.  And when I say "valuable," I'm not just talking through Scrooge's top hat.  The 12-page, stapled, black-and-white booklet was initially offered on eBay for... wait for it...

NINE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS!!

At last check, the price was down to $653.75... plus $12 shipping and handling. (Yeah, better handle it very carefully.)  Talk about giving the profit motive a bad name.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 22, "Hotel Strangeduck"

At first blush, it seems remarkable that "Hotel Strangeduck" should occupy this position in the DuckTales production pipeline.  There's a certain level of tentativeness in the episode -- patchy plot line, slow pace, inconsistent voice acting -- that, quite frankly, shouldn't be on display at this point in the series.  Adding to the retrograde feel, writer Richard Merwin, possessor of the most piebald track record of any regularly employed DT scrivener, chooses this "(supposedly) haunted castle/hotel" epic to be the first of what will turn out to be three attempts by him to tribute Scooby-Doo in a DT script.  (In case you're wondering... yes, Merwin did write for one of the many Scooby permutation series, back in the early 1980s.) While Merwin does manage to create a decent amount of spooky atmosphere, his confused manner of storytelling, plus a few true logical howlers, ultimately prevent the episode from rising above "thoroughly mediocre" status.

It's certainly possible that Merwin consulted Carl Barks' "The Old Castle's Secret" while preparing this episode.  The similarity between Strangeduck's "invisigable paint" and the "chemical spray" used by Diamond Dick in "Secret" is more than enough to suggest such a connection.  Actually, it might have been better had Merwin bitten the bullet and gone for a full adaptation of "Secret" here, since I'd argue that the bits of animated business that were most likely influenced by "Secret" were carried off more effectively than were the equivalent scenes in the Barks tale.  For example, many of the shots of the skeletal "ghost of Sir Quackly McDuck" in "Secret" were quite atmospheric...

... but Barks certainly never gave his readers anything quite so dramatic as this:

Frustratingly, the scenes in Professor Ludwing von Strangeduck's "well-known secret laboratory" (huh?) marked the only times that we saw the appearance of the "ghost" accompanied by the shadow of the bones.  The "Scrooge-strangling scene" strongly suggests that adding a few more such sightings would have given "Hotel Strangeduck" an extra edge that it sorely needed.

HD&L's exploration of the graveyard near the castle is also prominently featured in "Secret":

While the boys' diligent detective work here stands in impressive contrast to the exaggerated "Shag-and-Scoob" reactions of the DT Nephews as they search for Strangeduck's tomb...

... it must be admitted that the dark, windy conditions under which the DT HD&L are operating are more conducive to a genuine feeling of fright.  Unfortunately, any sense of true peril or serious consequences arising from the existence of "Strangeduck's ghost" have already been badly compromised by Merwin's decision to frame the "ghost story" within the somewhat risible "larger narrative" of Scrooge bringing his family and servants to run a hotel in the middle of Swansylvanian nowhere.  Per contra GeoX, I think it is entirely plausible that Scrooge, faced with the refusal of others to launch this business venture, might decide to get the enterprise off the ground himself in order to show that success is possible.  I simply don't think that this "money-making idea" is as plausible, or as solid a basis for a half-hour episode, as Barks' simple notion of Scrooge searching for a hidden treasure on family land or recently-acquired property. 

In the first two segments of the episode, Merwin can't seem to make up his mind as to whether he wants to set up a straight Scooby-Doo mystery or mix the mystery with a parody of Grand Hotel.  The plot develops in sections, lurching from incident to incident, and doesn't really begin to gel until HD&L begin their "investigation" into the possible fate of Strangeduck.  Even then, Merwin makes a terrible misstep when HD&L note the "fact" that "Benzino [Gasolini] is never around when the ghost is."  In so doing, the boys conveniently forget that Benzino was present when the ghost "axed" Scrooge and company to leave at the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2.  Even a simple Scooby-Doo mystery isn't going to work if the "red herring" is neither red nor a herring to begin with.

I think that it is quite telling that Merwin uses the "ice machine" exchange between Benzino and the Duchess of Swansylvania not once but twice.  I'm well aware that standard Scooby-Doo practice dictates that several plausible villains be on the scene and be given air time, but the sound of spinning wheels is plainly audible here, as Merwin desperately tries to fill air time while waiting for the real detective work to begin.  Besides, we already know that the Duchess is searching for something in the castle, and Benzino hasn't given us any reason to suspect him.  So these exchanges, while amusing, are much ado about absolutely nothing.  At least Benzino could have lived up to his (presumed) reputation and tried to seduce the Duchess, or something.

If the handling of the Duchess and Benzino is less than adept, then that of Ludwing von Strangeduck himself is simply risible.  Incredibly, we never do find out why Ludwing spent the episode sneaking around in a ghost costume, not even when the characters have the obligatory "exchanging of notes" in Strangeduck's lab at the end.  Among other things, the masquerade calls into question the identity of the "ghost" that had originally caused Scrooge's employees to refuse to work at the castle.  Was it Strangeduck's assistant Bernardo, whom Strangeduck admits had a tendency to "snoop around" in search of Strangeduck's book of formulas?  Or was it Ludwing himself, burnishing his credentials as a "weirdo"? Or both?  I can't even think of a Scooby-Doo episode in which a "false clue" was planted in so ham-handed a fashion.  What could Merwin possibly have been thinking here?  (To be completely fair, Scottie's "fake death" in "The Old Castle's Secret" was also pretty contrived, though nowhere close to being AS contrived as is Strangeduck's play-acting here.) 


"Hallo... I chust couldn't remember vhen Halloween fell
this year, so I figured, vhy take chances?"

What makes all of Merwin's badly-reasoned false trails and content-free "clues" so infuriating is that the episode features a more-than-respectable number of genuinely arresting scenes, leaving us to wonder what might have been had Merwin arranged his thoughts more coherently.  The "batter-dipped bandit" scene involving Mrs. Beakley, Webby, and the "ghost" in the kitchen makes excellent use of the "invisibility" idea to provide a truly scary image:

Likewise, the "flying books" scene, though brief, is appropriately atmospheric, though one really has to wonder how the "ghost" could possibly have managed to arrange it.  He would have had to have rigged up quite a few "invisagable" wires -- an engineering feat equivalent to Scrooge, HD&L, and Webby's setting of the traps for the hound and the Druids in Castle McDuck.

Best of all, of course, is the dramatic "mid-air grappling" that climaxes Scrooge's final battle with the "ghost" at the entrance to the castle. The animators are generally on their game throughout this episode, but here, they really outdo themselves.  It's also nice to see Scrooge get to climax an adventure with a no-holds-barred physical battle.

Before this memorable scene, however, we get another "How is he DOING that?" moment, in which the "ghost" appears to be fighting on several distinctly separate fronts at once.  Go ahead, try to picture in your mind's eye what kind of demented game of Twister the "ghost" would have to be playing in order to pull this off.

Between this feat, the "flying books," and the manipulation of the ax at the end of Act 1 (in which the "ghost" supposedly "floated" the ax from above the mantelpiece to a spot hovering above the table), it's quite astonishing that the "ghost" turns out to be a large, overweight, and apparently not overly bright dogsbody for a loony professor.  Bernardo missed his calling; he really should have considered vaudeville.

In light of how poorly "Hotel Strangeduck" is organized, I'm actually quite surprised that Merwin was given additional opportunities to write for the series.  Heck, the "powers that were" even gave him enough rope (or lasso) to hang himself with a second ill-conceived Scooby-Doo parody, "Ducks of the West."  Things got better, though; Merwin's third Scooby riff, "Back Out in the Outback," was easily the most successful of the trio, and he also gave us a legitimate classic with the Launchpad-focused "Top Duck."  So patience ultimately paid off, I suppose.  In the case of "Strangeduck," however, I think it's fair to say that Merwin, Scooby-Doo fan though he might have been, never got close to unraveling the Old Castle's real secret -- namely, good storytelling.

Sorry, Richard -- even the "traditional fade-out laugh" gambit isn't going to salvage this one.

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"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) This episode was okay, but I can't help thinking that it was a bit of a missed opportunity--it could easily have been a lot more atmospheric/suspenseful. Instead, there's a lot of really un-spooky ghosting around that, in light of the ending, is rather more implausible than that in the story it's riffing off of. Also, there's a guest at the hotel, Italian Stereotype Man, who serves no apparent purpose (unless a funny accent counts as a "purpose"). Perhaps without that narrative dead-end, there would have been more time and opportunity to really explore the ins and outs of the castle.

Sorry to say, I don't think that Merwin had a clear idea as to how best to exploit the episode's potential for spooky atmospherics.  As for Benzino, well, for some unknown reason, Merwin must have thought that he had a potential "keeper" character on his hands here, since the "Italian playhog" and "champion race-car driver"/"air ace" (depending on source) would play an even larger role in "Top Duck."  Still, it would be something of a stretch to claim that Benzino contributed anything truly meaningful to this episode.



(GeoX) The other guest is "The Duchess of Swansylvania;" funniest part of the episode is when she signs in with a huge, hyper-ornate signature. Okay, maybe you have to see it.

Just as funny, IMHO, is the notion that "hotel tip policy" includes the proviso that you have to tip the desk clerk when you sign in.  Have any of you who've stayed in a hotel -- even a really fancy one -- ever done that?



(Greg) Benzino signs the guestbook with great difficulty and then spins the turn table as Scrooge reads his name. So his last name is based on crude oil. Why is it that Gasolini can use an Italian accent; but not Magica who uses the slightly more offensive Russian accent?

The combination of exaggerated Italian accent and exaggerated Italian persona would probably create whatever offense is to be generated by this character.  Magica, by contrast, could probably have pulled off an Italian accent quite nicely if it had not been too over-the-top.  DT chose not to go that route, but, instead, to stick with the tried-and-true "Natasha" voice.


(Greg)  So we head inside a room as Mrs. Beakly and Webby (in the same outfit Beakly is wearing minus the size and plus the pink visor, natch) prepare the room and Beakly is complaining about her back...  Webby then gleefully answers the immortal question of why Scrooge talks her into these things: It's all about the raise see. Russi does a better job in acting Mrs. Beakly th[a]n Joan Gerber does with the real character! 

I wouldn't go as far as that.  Russi, however, does seem to sound a bit more like Minnie Mouse in this scene than she normally does with Webby.


(Greg)  So we head inside at the dinner table as Scrooge, the nephews, Swans, and Benzino are seated. Duckworth is standing in the background in the left of course as the nephews proclaim that there is a lot of strange stuff happening around here... Scrooge waves it off because there are no such things as ghosts. This is the same guy who faces Magica Despell on a regular basis for goodness sakes!

Good point!  Scrooge's level of toleration for extraordinary phenomena does seem to fluctuate from episode to episode -- sometimes (as here) even within the same episode.  Not for him the stubborn consistency of Kimba or Dr. Temperance Brennan on this topic. 


(Greg) So we cut back to the door [of Strangeduck's lab] as the Nephews wonder how they are going to open it again. They go to the door as it opens and the Nephews hide behind the wall as the ghost comes out and looks around while clearly seeing them; but does nothing but walk away like a skeleton. Bad form there Richard.

Actually, it's rather difficult to make out whether the "ghost" can see the boys or not.

(Greg) So we head inside Swans' bedroom (Wasn't she supposed to stay NEAR the door?) as Swans is sleeping in her bed under the pink covers with the Rebecca sleeping patch glasses from Balooest of Bluebloods. Now all we need is bronze cupids firing arrows and this episode will be complete.

Either the Duchess has a very short attention span (somehow, I don't find that to be all that far-fetched), or Scrooge and HD&L were in the bowels of the castle for a MUCH longer time than Merwin suggested on screen.

Next: Episode 23, "Launchpad's Civil War."