I have a dream. I have a dream that one day, cartoons will be appreciated. Not merely by mewling tots, slacker teenagers, and those of us who have nothing better to do on our Saturday mornings; but by the populace at large; and more pointedly, by literary critics.
Oh come on, why not? What does great literature have that modern cartoons don’t have, I ask you? (And I’m an ex-English major here.)
For example: themes. In literary circles, theme is defined as "a thought or idea the author presents to the reader that may be deep, difficult to understand, or even moralistic*." So "deep" and "moralistic" don’t sound cartoon-like to you? Think that’s limited to Dante and Hawthorne? Ever watch "Fairly Odd Parents"? Timmy is constantly being shown the consequences of his magically-granted wishes, and they’re not always positive consequences, either. "Be careful what you wish for." Not deep enough for you? OK, let’s take the problem of justice - the struggle of good vs. evil. You think Homer and Shakespeare had a corner on this market? I mean, sure, these guys had Odysseus and Circe, Iago and Othello, hundreds of years before "X-Men," but can you honestly argue that their conflicts are superior to that of Magneto and the Professor? Or Optimus Prime and Megatron? He-Man and Skeletor? Mojo-jojo and the Powerpuff Girls, for Pete’s sake? Ok, ok, yet a different theme: the coming of age story. (A favorite of my 8th grade English teacher.) Pretty "moralistic" stuff, right? Huck Finn, she would say, is a classic example. Well, what about "Spiderman"? This teen is growing up and discovering the responsibilities that come with superpowers. No? How about "Hey Arnold?" I saw an episode recently that focused on a young character’s struggle to "fit in." Hell, even in a "Simpsons" episode you’ll see Bart torn between taking the advice of little angel and devil Barts on his shoulder. So what if the effect is comic rather than tragic. Are people supposed to learn more from being depressed than they do from laughter? And, I might add, Bart struggles with these issues on a weekly basis for your viewing pleasure. King Lear only has to do it once, and the show is over.
While we’re on that topic, how about characters. Again, from the glossary, literary characters are "the medium through which a reader interacts with a piece of literature. Every character has his or her own personality, which a creative author uses to assist in forming the plot of a story or creating a mood." So, you could say that a good work of literature contains viable characters with whom the reader becomes attached and the author uses to make a point. You think today’s masses can relate more to Jane Austen’s Emma or Charles Dickens’ Pip than they can to Ginger, Jimmy Neutron, the Rugrats, Charlie Brown, or the "Home Movies" collection of oddballs? Really now. You think that Beowulf makes more of a statement about human nature than Dr. Katz, Dexter’s Laboratory or Beavis & Butthead? Debatable. You think that Daphne, Fred, Velma and Shaggy don’t help to form the plot and create the mood of "Scooby Doo"?
By this point in my article, literary types are snorting disapprovingly up their sleeves. "Whatever, Laura. Themes and characters are fairly universal stuff. Even a piece of trashy pop music can have a theme. What separates real literature from this cartoon blather is the art that lies in creating the work. The language and devices — Hyperbole. Irony. Satire. Sarcasm. Parody. And so on. Things that cartoon viewers wouldn’t even understand."
Oh really. Hyperbole isn’t present in the average episode of "Spongebob" (would a butterfly really cause a town riot)? "The Family Guy" doesn’t include irony in its arsenal of comedy (in the episode where Chris goes to NYC to become famous, who would have thought that in the end, it would be Stewie’s face to get plastered all over town)? Stone & Parker don’t use sarcasm and satire in "Southpark" (who HAVEN’T these guys made fun of)? And if THEY don’t use enough parody for you, Rocky & Bullwinkle’s "Fractured Fairy Tales" is an obvious example of this device. "Animaniacs" episodes are full of parodies: why is the Godpigeon funny? Because he’s a dead-on imitation of Marlon Brando’s Godfather, man! Parody is an intelligent cartoonist’s best friend. And if you get right down to language, you can even hear big words in a cartoon, like—"magnanimous," "fortuitous," and "evasive." ("Johnny Bravo" is especially fun for this). It may sound funny, but I’ll bet these casual references have in fact expanded viewers’ vocabularies.
And for my final performance, ladies and gentlemen, let me point out to you this: cartoons are a comment on our culture, as much as literary works ever were or are. And, just like the "great" works of literature, they help to shape our culture as well as being a comment on it. (Isn’t Homer’s "D’oh!" as easily recognizable as Hamlet’s "To be or not to be"?) Now, I’m not saying that watching "Space Ghost" and "King of the Hill" changed my life, but hey, it could happen. Why not?
So consider this the next time you’re eating your Wheaties in front of the so-called "mindless" tube on a weekend morning: you may think you’re wasting away the morning. But be careful. You may actually be learning something.
*For those of you who didn’t stay awake in English class, I got that definition from the following website: http://www.uncp.edu/home/canada/work/allam/general/glossary.htm |
