The Dark Vision of Carl Barks
by Jeet Heer
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
“Human beings are a bunch of maggots consuming the body of the earth.” – Carl Barks.
You can talk all you want about the misanthropy of R. Crumb, the bleakness of Chris Ware, or the flesh-crawling creepiness of Charles Burns but if you want to read a cartoonist who really has a dark vision of life go no further than Carl Barks.
“What the hell!?” Readers may ask. “Didn’t Barks do bouncy and buoyant adventure stories featuring talking ducks? He was a Disney artist wasn’t he? How could he have a dark vision?”
“I think of death as total peace – you’re beyond the clutches of all those who would crush you.” – Carl Barks.
It’s true that Barks drew stories about Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge. But read those stories. As Art Spiegelman has noted, they reveal that Barks had a fundamentally “flinty” view of life. All his characters are at heart selfish: profit-maximizers to use the language of economics. Scrooge is a successful, hard-working profit-maximizer, Donald a would-be profit-maximizer whose plans all go blooey, and Gladstone Gander is so lucky profit comes his way without the will to maximize. Being young,
“We’re like a weed – you see it and trample it to the ground and don’t think anything about it. We’re like that weed – we have our little life and when we’re gone, we’re gone.” – Carl Barks.
Barks’ world is an affectionless one. It’s hard to recall a moment where one character feels any genuine friendship or fellowship for another. Huey, Dewey and Louie, it could be argued, work as a team but they are not really separate personalities: They seem like clones. It’s a Darwinian universe where everyone is looking out for number 1 (and Scrooge for his number one dime).
The most harrowing comics-related reading I know is Donald Ault’s Carl Barks: Conversations (University Press of Mississippi, 2003). That’s the source of the quotes used above. The final interview in the book was conducted just two months before Barks death in 2000. The cartoonist had lived nearly a century and it showed. This interview reads like a Samuel Beckett play, a pure distillation of despair. After reading it, you want to pick up Kafka’s The Metamorphosis to get some good cheer.
Labels: Carl Barks, Disney
I don't quite recommend it, but a fairly pessimistic view of Barks is presented in the novel "The Last Song of Manuel Sendero" by Ariel Dorfman. Dorfman had a fairly complex relationship (I don't think they ever met) with Barks, who he fictionalized in this book.
The Schulz book of that series is very good too.
Dorfman also co-authored (with Armand Mattelart)'How to Read Donald Duck: Imperialist Ideology in the Disney Comic', which is basically a Marxist critique of Barks' Ducks comics.
what happened to frank's post? that was a great quote!
I haven't read the interview book but with regard to the darkness of Barks' late-in-life comments I seem to recall that his last few years involved unpleasant dealings with a couple of guys who first falsely soured Barks' long-time business relationship with Bruce Hamilton and then turned out to be scam artists taking advantage of him. That's got to leave someone feeling pretty pessimistic about people. (As if living through the entire 20th Century wouldn't be enough to do that.) Not unlike Uncle Scrooge's attitude in that very first story.
@Blaise: Frank's post is up again now. The wires got crossed for a bit.
This viewpoint of Barks' ducks seems very narrow to me, Jeet. The Ducks were some of the most well rounded characters in kids comics at the time… which is probably the biggest reason why they were so successful.
While the ducks were certainly capable of greed, malice and avarice… they were also capable of affection, generosity and heroism. So I don't really understand an interpretation that paints them as flat and one-dimensional as Little Dot or Richie Rich. If this is your viewpoint of them, I suggest you read more Barks! Check out almost any of his many Christmas stories for some good examples.
While there are certainly some dark themes in Barks' comics, implying an overarching darkness to them seems absurd to me in the extreme.
The Barks that wrote the duck stories was most likely a very different man from the Barks you quote from shortly before his death. My understanding is that his later years were a very dark time for him with the loss of his wife and some exceedingly unscrupulous business handlers. I don't see this degree of bitterness in his stories at all.
I'd have to agree with Steven. Have you read much Barks, Jeet?
I'm broadly on the same page as Jeet on this one in that I think Barks' view of human nature was jaundiced at the very least, which isn't the same thing as saying the Ducks had Barks' worldview. He wrote characters who were probably better than he was. But anything he ever wrote that depended on a good side of human nature always had that side brought out only in extremis, after some sort of crisis – it was seldom, if ever, there for the asking.
What Steven said.
Some of Barks' stories are quite bleak, some are less so, and some are rather idyllic (the christmas stories, Old California, Square Valley). It's not rare for the characters to show affection for each other, and they're certainly not driven by ambition – Scrooge McDuck is, occasionally, but he certainly enjoys having a good time; drinking coffee and swimming in money. He likes to party too, at least in a few stories from the sixties.
Dorfam and Mattelart's "How to read Donald Duck" doesn't really tell you how to read Donald Duck; they mainly see what they want to see, whether it's actually in the comic books or not.
Unka Carl was capable of great bleakness and despair on the page but just as equally deft with joy and abandon. Pigeonholing him as a nihilist falls into the same trap as the revisionist reading of Schultz; it ignores the text in favor of the subtext. Barks was closer in complexity and emotional depth, for my money, to Tezuka; maybe as much or more so than any other american comic artist of the 40s/50s/60s.
It’s hard to recall a moment where one character feels any genuine friendship or fellowship for another.
Christ, just give me ten minutes to go through my Big Box o' Comics and I could easily find you a dozen or more. Yes, some of Barks' stories are dark, but this post is simply absurd: it looks to me like an effort at being contrarian for contrarianism's sake.
I hope I didn't come across as being contrary for the sake of being contrary. If I overstated my case, it's because the dark side of Barks doesn't get acknowledged enough. It's there in the stories for anyone who wants to read it.
For the record, I've read most of Barks' duck stories, aside from a few from late in his career (which are generally seen as being among his more cynical work, by experts like Mike Barrier, so I don't think they would change my point of view).
It’s true that the interview I quote from was conducted when Barks was 1) very old and 2) rightly bitter about attempts to rip him off and in mourning over the death of his wife. On the other hand, he was also fully lucid and explicitly wanted to make these statements about his world view. In the same interview I quote from he told Donald Ault, “I think it’s important for your book that people know how I feel about this.” I think we have to take Barks at his word that what he was saying was important for an understanding of who he was.
Also, nothing I wrote should be seen as me judging Barks adversely. Quite the revere, I think the darkness of his world view makes him a more interesting cartoonist. I implicitly compared him to Crumb, Ware, Burns and Samuel Beckett — high praise where I come from.
Word up, Jeet.
I'm with Jeet and Roger on this issue. Barks' characters are frequently unlikable charlatans, concerned with making a dishonest buck. The one story in particular that comes to my mind is the one where people sequentially claim ownership of North America based on a Viking helmet, including the museum curator. That doesn't detract from his storytelling ability. He's one of the absolute greats.
It's funny when people make a big deal about how easy it would be for them to find examples, and then they don't actually give any.
Without Barks world weary views and misanthropic charcters you are left with DuckTales.
Uncle Carl brought us the cynical tales under the Disney banner.
You think that's "funny," T. Hodler? My assumption was that examples would be so obvious to Barks fans that I wouldn't NEED to spell them out. But fine, if it has to be, it has to be: check out "Old California," the ending of "Ancient Persia," "Christmas for Shacktown," "The Mysterious Stone Ray," "North of the Yukon," the denouement of "Back to the Klondike," the ending of "Trick or Treat" (Barks' version of which is actually much "nicer" than the cartoon on which it's based), "Vacation Time"–is that sufficient?
Obviously, it's the case that Barks' characters don't always act in a sympathetic or likable way (their complexity is part of his genius, natch), but to claim that they NEVER do, or that instances of such are hard to find, is flatly counterfactual, and it does Barks a great disservice to claim that he was so one-dimensional.
@GeoX — Yes, I still think it's funny when people do that. And I still think it was funny when you did it. The overwrought tone, the seemingly unnecessary invocation of Christ, the hyperbolic claims that you didn't back up (& still haven't, not that it really matters), the kiddie language ("Big Box o' Comics") that belied your supposed anger … it was funny!
But it's nothing personal. If you approach the subject calmly, I'm feel certain you'll agree that your second comment (minus the hostility) is much more effective than the first. Thanks for writing in.
What a peculiar over/miss-reading of my comment. Still, it IS the internet, so I'll let it slide. But I made no "hyperbolic" claims (a hyperbolic claim: "Every single comic Barks ever wrote disproves what you said on every level"), and I backed up everything I said. Unless you're objecting to me not providing exactly twelve examples. But even by the internet's standards, that would be silly.
Ha! You have a gift. Thanks for letting it slide, G.
I love the interweb.
This is pretty much the story I was told by someone who was family to him, that he was that way from the 1930s on. Some of this may be due to Barks deafness…
of course Barks spent his early years working for the adult magazine market, so he was certainly knew exploitation.
Although I would agree in part with Roger's assessment — Barks' view of humanity is acutely skeptical — Jeet grossly overstates his point. Barks was by no means a misanthrope.
Yes, there are indeed a good number of stories that fit Jeet's description to varying extents, such as the television satires, the story of the Cornelius Coot statues, or — especially — the late, at one point censored, milkman story, which is remarkably nasty.
And yes, stories such as the "Golden Helmet" draw a pretty bleak picture of humanity, but it is worth remembering that reason and compassion wins through in the end. The same goes for a classic such as the 'Flipism' story, which initially seems absurdist, but ends up being a unassumingly moralising fable.
In any case, the basic tenor of Barks' stories, though at times seemingly cynical, contradict Jeet's analysis. Tim chides the dissenters for not providing examples, but it is perhaps worth noting that Jeet doesn't provide any in support of his point either.
Here are a few: Donald's bravery in seeking to find and save his disappeared nephews in "Ghost of the Grotto", his taking control of the situation and saving the day in "Vacation Time", Scrooge's awakening compassion at the end of "Only a Poor Old Man", his decision to save the thoroughly unsavoury Chisel McSue in the so-called 'Horse-Radish Story', despite the risk it entails for his fortune, Postman Donald's decision to find and deliver the love letter Gladstone has written to Daisy at any cost, after initially having thrown it away in anger, the entire Duck ending up working together to help the poor children of Shacktown, and — unforgettably — Donald's late night onset of conscience after having sent Gladstone to Alaska on a wild goose chase in "Luck of the North".
I could go on, but I hope that's sufficient. Barks might have been a pessimist, especially in his late years, but he was first and foremost a humanist.
Best,
Matthias
Matthias: Most of the stories you mention support the point Roger correctly made: "But anything he ever wrote that depended on a good side of human nature always had that side brought out only in extremis, after some sort of crisis – it was seldom, if ever, there for the asking."
In the stories you mention characters want to act badly or selfishly but are put in an extreme situation where their actions could lead to unethical consequences (i.e. Gladstone dying in "Luck of the North."). So the stories show that in the ethics wins. But I never said that Barks didn't believe in ethics. He just thought that ethics were at odds with human (or duck) nature: i.e., it's a struggle to be ethical because what we really want to do is beat the other guy (or duck).
And in any case, stories like "Luck of the North" don't show the characters being affectionate or caring; rather they show them being, against their natural selfish insticts, temporarilly capable of ethical behaviour.
Also in these stories we have to distinguish between the ends (which sometimes have a tacked-on, "crime-does-not-pay" feel) with the dominate tone of the tale, which is often cynical.
Oh, OK, then we are more or less in agreement. I didn't get that from your original post, which is also strongly flavoured by those late, extremely pessimistic statements.
It is true that there's very little affection on display in the stories and that most of the characters act selfishly, at least at the beginning of any given story — it's Barks' source of both plot and comedy. But as I said, he is no misanthrope and his world is an essentially moral, if only occasionally benign, one.
Anyway, thanks for your post!
Matthias
Although I enjoy the presentation of another side of Barks (he is far deeper than just a creator of light Disney stories), I find your inclusion of out of context quotes just as narrow minded as people's initial assumptions of Barks.
Barks was one of the most brilliant men I have ever had the pleasure of spending time with. You claim he showed his age, but the man did not have an ounce of senility within him. Every night before he went to bed he would do Calculus problems in his head to keep his mind sharp, and death did not get the best of him. Life did. His quotes came in trying times, not only during the aforementioned business dealings, but also when realizing the weight of living. Primarily when he outlived both his wife and daughter.
I appreciate that Barks is still being discussed and that my grandfather (Bruce Hamilton) is too, but countering one sided views with more negative and equally slanted views is not quite the solution.
There is some kind of conection between his idea of peace following death and a line from Asterios Polyp, where Asterio´s mother gives sense to the statement "rest in peace".