Also, I just remembered, Trick or Treat wasn’t Barks first story adapted from an earlier cartoon: he also did a loose adaptation of the short “Truant officer Donald” in the late 40s.
Hm? That's a comic adaptation? If so then at the very least it's not such a 1:1 job as Trick or Treat.
Pawns of the Loup Garou Barks took a single idea as the basis for his story, the existence of the loup garou. Which is some kind of Cajun werewolf. And he just can't fill the pages with it. I'm pretty sure it's not just Tony Strobl's cross-eyed ducks that make this story a flop, it's that this is one of Barks' thinnest mystery threads ever. Scrooge is just sort of there for most of it, Miss Minemore isn't even a real witch or anything, and the monster itself is nothing more than a jumbo-sized Looney Tunes ghoul. It's boring. Verdict: F
Yes, it's not very good, is it? This story is incidentally somewhat hilarious to read as a native French-speaker, since for us "loup-garou" is just the word for "werewolf" (the loup garou or rougarou as understood in the English-speaking world as a Cajun monster is just the Cajun concept of a werewolf, with the Cajun word for werewolf, e.g. the French word, remaining untranslated for exoticism).
Another fault you mentioned is the inexplicable throwing in of "Count Drakula" as a main antagonist only for him not to show up at all on-panel, let alone have some sort of confrontation with Scrooge. This reeks of the later, most slapdash of Universal Monsters monster-mash movies, which would be billed as Dracula Meets the Wolfman and then have a bare excuse for a plot where a single mad scientist revives both Dracula and the Wolfman but they never meet.
Waitaminnit... It seems to me that Count Drakula has to be the bearded duck-guy who flies off with Donald's plane on p. 6. Miss Minemore says later that "yesterday he stole this statuette from me and tried to make connections with your plane." Donald says, "He made connections, all right!" Miss Minemore continues, "But the wolf followed him in a rage and brought the sled back!" The bearded duck-guy on page 6 was indeed pulling the sled with the boxed statue and says "Don't let him get me! He's tracked me for miles!"
Waitaminnit... It seems to me that Count Drakula has to be the bearded duck-guy who flies off with Donald's plane on p. 6. Miss Minemore says later that "yesterday he stole this statuette from me and tried to make connections with your plane." Donald says, "He made connections, all right!" Miss Minemore continues, "But the wolf followed him in a rage and brought the sled back!" The bearded duck-guy on page 6 was indeed pulling the sled with the boxed statue and says "Don't let him get me! He's tracked me for miles!"
Okay, yes. I may have been slightly hyperbolic. But it's still a heckuva weird way to treat your nominal main antagonist.
No comments on the other stories? I thought Secret of Hondorica or Forbidden Valley might elicit some. Then again, that's what I thought about the previous volumes as well...
You up for a discussion about Volume III (Scrooge 1-20) down the line?
Post by Scrooge MacDuck on Mar 17, 2020 18:24:24 GMT
Oh, definitely. Your perspective is always new and thought-provoking, though I don't always agree with you. (I have an admittedly-irrational, long-held dislike of Hobblin' Goblins, for example.)
Oh, definitely. Your perspective is always new and thought-provoking, though I don't always agree with you. (I have an admittedly-irrational, long-held dislike of Hobblin' Goblins, for example.)
Please, do tell! I'd love to see some more discussion around here -- frankly, there's got to be a more interesting topic than "Count Duckula"!
No comments on the other stories? I thought Secret of Hondorica or Forbidden Valley might elicit some. Then again, that's what I thought about the previous volumes as well...
You up for a discussion about Volume III (Scrooge 1-20) down the line?
I just don't want to discuss a story until I've had a chance to look through it and refresh my memory, and while in one sense I've had time opened up for me in the past week (i.e., Everything Is Canceled), on the other hand, there's been a fair amount of time devoted to various necessary adjustments to The New Temporary Reality. Hoping to get around to looking at Hondorica later this week.
I'm pleased to see your comments about any and all Barks stories!
Yeah, the other spy-fi Duck comics such as DoubleDuck are also unreal to me. Also the superhero ones, apart from Super Snooper, Barks and Rosa. Not that I don't like some superhero comics in their own right, but it's a genre that doesn't fit the Ducks for me. Both spy agencies and superheroes belong in Darkwing stories, not Donald/Scrooge stories. Or even Daisy stories--though I did enjoy Andreas Pihl's Agent Daisy! But it's not "real" to me. Science fiction can be "real"--the Barks stories where they go to other planets or get visited by tiny aliens are all "real" in my headcanon, and many other similar stories by other authors. Not the futuristic PK stories, though.
OK, now, back to old Barks stories! Don't want to drag us too far off-topic!
Blame the Italians for not knowing Darkwing before he was even conceived
Yeah, the other spy-fi Duck comics such as DoubleDuck are also unreal to me. Also the superhero ones, apart from Super Snooper, Barks and Rosa. Not that I don't like some superhero comics in their own right, but it's a genre that doesn't fit the Ducks for me. Both spy agencies and superheroes belong in Darkwing stories, not Donald/Scrooge stories. Or even Daisy stories--though I did enjoy Andreas Pihl's Agent Daisy! But it's not "real" to me. Science fiction can be "real"--the Barks stories where they go to other planets or get visited by tiny aliens are all "real" in my headcanon, and many other similar stories by other authors. Not the futuristic PK stories, though.
OK, now, back to old Barks stories! Don't want to drag us too far off-topic!
Blame the Italians for not knowing Darkwing before he was even conceived
Yeah, yeah. I didn't mean that the creators of those stories should have kept those genres for Darkwing stories; I meant that in my mental fictional worlds, spies and superheroes are fine in St Canard but not in the Duckburg universe. I read those stories, I occasionally enjoy them, but none of them feel to me like events that really happened to the Ducks I know. I'm happy they work for other people, though!
OK, thanks to Everything Being On Hold, I have just been able to re-read "The Gilded Man" and "Secret of Hondorica" (both conveniently in Gladstone Giant Comic Album #5 of Donald Duck Adventures!).
The Gilded Man--I think this is my personal favorite epic Donald vs. Gladstone story. I love the responses of Donald and one of the nephews on the page where, after EVERYTHING Donald and the boys have gone through for that stamp, Gladstone is handed the letter in the post office. Geoffrey Blum writes that he thinks the story is lightweight because there is no edge, no gothic themes, no angst, and therefore less meaning for scholars to ponder...though he thinks it's "no less entertaining" for all that. He says Philo T. Ellic is like a fairy godfather who makes it possible for everyone's wishes to be fulfilled. That's true enough, and Ellic does make it possible to have an interesting contest between Donald and Gladstone *without* suspending Gladstone's luck, and without having it end depressingly for the Ducks. But! I don't agree that you need "edge" or "angst" to have a story with plenty of meaning. Comedies rarely win Best Picture, but there are light comedies which would give a scholar plenty to discuss. This one has all the ethics around accepting Ellic's rewards (which question gets very serious consideration from Donald: five full panels on page 7, that's pretty damn serious for a comic book) and the usual issues around the depiction of the native tribe. This story uses several of the unfortunate tropes about "natives": the superstition, the rendering of their *translated* speech as "Hollywood Injun English". But partly because they don't have much "panel time," there's less of this than in many other Barksian stories. And the treasure Donald takes from them is not a cultural artifact of their own tradition; it's a mailbag. That reduces the contemporary reader's discomfort.
Barks does a great job of introducing elements into the story that will be needed later: the boys' research on the plane turning up the Gilded Man, the old riverman saying that the Gilded Man was fascinated by the mail bag's silver buckles--that's just slipped in there, and the first-time reader generally won't particularly notice it, but the boys paid attention, we later find out!
And as I've already said, I'm very fond of the character Philo T. Ellic.
The only misstep in this story for me is the fact that the Ducks get weirded out by seeing the natives' stuffed ducks. I don't think that joke was worth obfuscating the scale of anthropomorphism.
The Secret of Hondorica--As an epic Donald vs. Gladstone story, this doesn't work as well for me as The Gilded Man. Though I do seriously like the boys' saying "Life can be VERY unkind!" when they're convincing Donald they have to save Gladstone. But it doesn't have quite the punch for me of the sequence in The Gilded Man when Gladstone is handed the letter. And Gilded Man never has to undermine Gladstone's luck, while in Hondorica, his luck very definitely seems to run out, unless you count HDL's ethics as part of his luck, which I don't think is fair. HDL explicitly say that it wasn't his luck that saved him. Plus, he doesn't end up with anything to show for the adventure.
Here's my question: in the last panel, a nephew says "We'll all just about break even on this trip!" I understand that Gladstone will only break even, because he'll have to spend the equivalent of the value of the crown to get it safely removed from his neck. But why are the Ducks only breaking even? The nephew reports that Gladstone had to give back the half of the reward money he extorted from Donald, so they should be getting the full $5000 from Scrooge, right? They still should have the papers Scrooge needs. I've never understood that "we'll all break even" line.
On the "depiction of the natives" front, this story is more problematic than Gilded Man. The Ducks talk unapologetically about "savages," while we look at the colonial history and know there was plenty of savagery to go around, generally far more on the colonizers' side. There's the superstitious response to the helicopters based on their resemblance to their god of evil. And most annoyingly, there's the version of the "white man goes to native tribe and gets worshiped as a god" trope. Even though these natives aren't complete pushovers; they at least do demand proof! And despite the cringe-worthy trope, I have to say that I've always loved the line: "Oh, great Chu, we tickled pink!" It's so unexpectedly offbeat and silly. And on the positive side, as in Gilded Man, the treasure the Ducks are after and take home with them is not a cultural artifact belonging to the natives--apart from that crown, but they weren't seeking that, and it's antihero Gladstone who gets that, not the hero Ducks.
Minor question: in this printing, the nephew with the JW Guidebook explains that the statue depicts "Bru, their spirit of deeds"--but there is space after the following "He" for another word. Mustn't that originally have been "their spirit of evil deeds"? Clearly he's the bad god.
Oh, and one more question: in the last panel on page 22 it's either Huey or Dewey who says "Some note paper and your slingshot, Louie! And a good hard stone!" This makes it seem as though it is this nephew who uses Louie's slingshot. Yet on the last page, a not-Louie nephew says "it was Louie's good aim with a slingshot at the back of his head!" Was this just a continuity error on Barks's part? Or do you think the not-Louie nephew on page 22 could just have proceeded to direct Louie to use the slingshot?
The Gilded Man--I think this is my personal favorite epic Donald vs. Gladstone story. I love the responses of Donald and one of the nephews on the page where, after EVERYTHING Donald and the boys have gone through for that stamp, Gladstone is handed the letter in the post office. Geoffrey Blum writes that he thinks the story is lightweight because there is no edge, no gothic themes, no angst, and therefore less meaning for scholars to ponder...though he thinks it's "no less entertaining" for all that. He says Philo T. Ellic is like a fairy godfather who makes it possible for everyone's wishes to be fulfilled. That's true enough, and Ellic does make it possible to have an interesting contest between Donald and Gladstone *without* suspending Gladstone's luck, and without having it end depressingly for the Ducks. But! I don't agree that you need "edge" or "angst" to have a story with plenty of meaning. Comedies rarely win Best Picture, but there are light comedies which would give a scholar plenty to discuss. This one has all the ethics around accepting Ellic's rewards (which question gets very serious consideration from Donald: five full panels on page 7, that's pretty damn serious for a comic book) and the usual issues around the depiction of the native tribe. This story uses several of the unfortunate tropes about "natives": the superstition, the rendering of their *translated* speech as "Hollywood Injun English". But partly because they don't have much "panel time," there's less of this than in many other Barksian stories. And the treasure Donald takes from them is not a cultural artifact of their own tradition; it's a mailbag. That reduces the contemporary reader's discomfort.
I go back and forth on it myself, and on the last reading I found myself more critical of the ethical issues you raise. There are some very good bits -- the part where they have to follow the letter back to Duckburg is great. And Philo T. Ellic is great -- but I also recognize the 'fairy godmother' element Geoffrey Blum mentions. I wouldn't say there's no edge or angst at all, but I have always felt that the Gilded Man is a bit of false advertising. It's like Barks knew he the stamp alone wasn't going to draw crowds, and so he threw in another secret cult to spice up the front cover. Don Rosa pulls more or less the same trick in "The Last Lord of Eldorado". Looking at that front cover, it feels like got cheated out of a cool mystery for a snipe hunt about a stamp. Of course I get the excitement of hunting after a rare collectable, but I feel like Barks has done better on other occasions: "The Trouble With Dimes" and "The Secret of Atlantis" come to mind.
The only misstep in this story for me is the fact that the Ducks get weirded out by seeing the natives' stuffed ducks. I don't think that joke was worth obfuscating the scale of anthropomorphism.
I actually really like that gag. Look at the jolly faces of those stuffed ducks!
The Secret of Hondorica--As an epic Donald vs. Gladstone story, this doesn't work as well for me as The Gilded Man. Though I do seriously like the boys' saying "Life can be VERY unkind!" when they're convincing Donald they have to save Gladstone. But it doesn't have quite the punch for me of the sequence in The Gilded Man when Gladstone is handed the letter. And Gilded Man never has to undermine Gladstone's luck, while in Hondorica, his luck very definitely seems to run out, unless you count HDL's ethics as part of his luck, which I don't think is fair. HDL explicitly say that it wasn't his luck that saved him. Plus, he doesn't end up with anything to show for the adventure.
Yeah, that's always a problem with this story. Donald Ault tries to reason out of this situation, but the problem is ultimately that Barks has set up Gladstone with such god-like powers back in Luck of the North that taking them away without a good in-story reason feels like cheating. Gladstone's like the Hulk: insanely powerful, but not in control. You shouldn't count HDL's actions as part of Gladstone's luck. In Barks, there's always this interaction between cosmic (in)justice and human actions. Gladstone's luck falls squarely in the former.
Here's my question: in the last panel, a nephew says "We'll all just about break even on this trip!" I understand that Gladstone will only break even, because he'll have to spend the equivalent of the value of the crown to get it safely removed from his neck. But why are the Ducks only breaking even? The nephew reports that Gladstone had to give back the half of the reward money he extorted from Donald, so they should be getting the full $5000 from Scrooge, right? They still should have the papers Scrooge needs. I've never understood that "we'll all break even" line.
Yeah, that one got me as well. Barks always lamented his problem with endings. I also find it difficult to believe that it will cost half a crown to remove the crown from Gladstone's neck. Surely you could just cut it in two? Plus, duck beaks are usually pretty malleable -- surely it's not too hard to get it back up?
Guess who's back? I'm carrying on with volume III, which covers the Uncle Scrooge stories from #1 to #20. These are harder to get a grip on initially, as Barks pretty much had to invent the idea of an Uncle Scrooge story from scratch. As you can see, I've switched to Times New Roman -- because the default font used on ProBoards is atrocious for reading longer posts.
Only a Poor Old Man I'm in two minds about this story. On the one hand, it does an excellent job in reimagining Uncle Scrooge as one of the complex and compelling characters in all of comic books. The depths of character Barks paints in this story deserve a monograph all their own (which I'm not going to write here), and which deserve to put this story in the highest of echelons.
However, in my heart of hearts, I can't call this one of my favorite Barks stories. And the reason for that is fairly simple: by this point in 1952, I'm firmly expecting a 32-page Barks story to take me to exotic locales and swooping vistas. In light of that, the central conflict between Scrooge and the Beagle Boys is a little ordinary. The money lake is fascinating idea in theory, but the execution of it doesn't really evoke anything like the genteel hacienda of Don Gaspar, the rugged cliffs of Labrador, or the Rivièra where the piers have ears. I suspect that the money lake may be too abstract of an idea, in the end. The closest movie analog I can think of is Smaug's hoard from The Hobbit, and similar computer-generated treasures. Furthermore, I live in a society that is pretty much cashless. In that sense, Scrooge's money bin has become even quainter than it was before. It may be a very personal point to get stuck on, but it keeps me from giving the story full marks.
Verdict: S- Back to the Klondike The idea of Scrooge traveling to settle an old debt of his is a very fruitful one, especially coming off Only a Poor Old Man, where Scrooge's ingenuity is constantly driven by tricks he pulled in his younger days. This story serves as a kind of addendum to the previous one, underlining his frontierman understanding of honor as touched on in one panel when he is reminiscing about his past.
The first couple of Scrooge stories emphasize the physical, fetishistic love he has for his money. His money swim appears four times in Only a Poor Old Man, and he kisses a dollar bill goodbye in Hawaiian Hideaway. This story extends that idea in an interesting way: every time Scrooge is seen developing budding feelings for Goldie, he suppresses it and channels it through his love for money. It's a psycho-analyst's field day. One of the articles in the Library is titled "The Romance of Wealth", and I think that pretty much nails it. This is paired with the other theme in this story: memory. Isn't it convenient that the longest flashback of Scrooge's youth Barks ever permitted was conveniently placed in a story all about selective memory? The story shows Scrooge to be an unrealiable narrator again and again, something that I think was lost in the frenzy over the famous 'lost sequence'. It's a tall tale similar to the ones we hear about in The Golden Nugget Boat and The Loony Lunar Gold Rush. In this respect, this story has become the victim of its own success.
And then there's Glittering Goldie. Her rapport with Scrooge is so full of contradictions, I think any attempt to imagine how their relationship developed is almost bound to come up short. It's tempting to link her with the Japanese tsundere character type, about characters who act tough as a kind of shield, but there's more to it. She's more than a dance hall easy gal: instead of chasing easy living, she goes back to the cabin and lives off the rocks for the next forty years, giving most of her money away to orphaned children. She carries a tremendous sense of loss, as well as pride. There comes a time in life when what's past cannot be fixed, and all you can do is remember the times of possibility. The frontier is over. I think this feeling is expressed more clearly in Mystery of the Ghost Town Railroad, where there is no talk of love or attraction, but which shares much of the same themes. Given how much Barks recycled his themes, it's surprising that Goldie never made a return appearance -- but it was a very wise judgment, IMO.
Verdict: S Somethin' Fishy Here Sometimes Barks could be amazingly economic in his storytelling. In five pages, Scrooge believes he lost all of his money, accumulates a fortune in fish, and decides to give it all away to Donald. It feels like a story about the 'second' Scrooge Barks built up during these years, who doesn't mind losing all of his money in the knowledge that it will return to him (A Financial Fable), who gives away money when the plot calls for it (Gladstone's Terrible Secret; Trail of the Unicorn), who isn't about spending money in large quantities (Spending Money, The Money Stairs, Statuesque Spendthrifts). Most of those stories, however, serve as some kind of fable about money or success, which is also the case here. Scrooge is almost as destined to be successful as Gladstone is, albeit by other means. But he feels no passion for fish, which is very much in keeping with his character. I also just love seeing Barks' easy depictions of trading, starting with the nephews in Marahajah Donald. For a moment, you're almost convinced that capitalism works.
Verdict: A The Horseradish Story of So Many Names This is one of my favorite Barks adventures. It takes its influence from The Magic Hourglass, by introducing another MacGuffin that represents all of Scrooge's wealth -- although in a Barksian twist of fate, the treasure is something nobody actually wants. This is excellent writing progress, keeping the stakes as high as in any other story where all of Scrooge's wealth is under attack, but doing so in the form of something we can easily wrap our heads around. In addition, there's also influence from The Golden Helmet, by sending us on another sea epic treasure hunt, but more importantly by introducing Chisel McSue. McSue is a ruthless villain who's got Scrooge by the legal nose, representing an amalgamation of Azure Blue and Sharky. I wonder how Barks would have kept on developing this type of villain if the Comics Code of 1954 hadn't intervened -- or is the pig villain type the ultimate evolution of this villain?
But what really makes this story for me is the moods. It moves so deftly from excellent comedy, to an ominous lack of wind, to an epic stormy conclusion. I think this is the funniest story of the batch, despite (or maybe because of) its simple premise. The isolated location gives off a feeling of tranquility, false tranquility, where there's plenty of time for nautical gags as the time ticks on. The time restriction, allows Barks to push the Ducks to the extremes, going so far as to crash both ships and leaving the five stranded on a raft with nothing but McSue and the horseradish. And like the previous stories, Scrooge gets a moment where his character is tested, but it's different this time. Tricking the Beagle Boys and challenging Goldie to a race are natural extensions of their story, but McSue had already crossed the moral event horizon -- he didn't need to be saved. In fact, Scrooge would be a lot better off just letting him drown. But he saves McSue it anyway. This makes the reveal, that the horseradish had been saved all along, less of a cop-out and more a moment where Scrooge earns his happy ending.
Verdict: SThe Round Money Bin The most significant contribution this story makes is by scaling down Scrooge's money even further -- to the representation of a single coin, the first dime he ever earned. It'll be some time before Barks understands how to wield it properly. This is another story about the 'second' Scrooge, who happily changes all of his money into dollar bills, puts them in a round money bin, and picks them into haystacks when the Beagle Boys get a hold of the bin. This story isn't as much of a fable, however, just a leftover Beagle Boys plot.
Verdict: C+The Menehune Mystery I've never cared much for this story in the past, because not a lot seems to happen in it. The Beagle Boys take Scrooge's money to a Hawaiian island, where they pretty much wait around for the Ducks to foil their plans. The menehune seem uncharacteristic of Barks, who was usually more involved with science than with the fay. This time around, I fell more for its charm. There's a gentility that surrounds the locale (influenced by Garé, no doubt), that stands in contrast with the previous stories. The friendship between the nephews and Opu Nui is something you don't see a lot of in Barks' works. Even Scrooge and Donald, who are usually the most energetic of characters, take a surprisingly long time to scale the mountain -- something that would require a page or two at most in other stories. It's not the most exciting adventure, but it's a pleasant story, excellent for something like a summer annual.
Favorite dialogue: "Say, I've been looking at the mountain top -- and guess what I see!" "A mountain top?"
Verdict: A- The Secret of Atlantis This story, on the other hand, is two for one. The first part, "The 1916 Quarter" takes a lot from The Trouble with Dimes, while taking the 'fateful coin' idea from A Christmas from Shacktown. I've always been fascinated by the idea of collectability espoused in this story, though I'm skeptical if Scrooge could ever get his hands on all 1916 quarters. The second part, "Atlantis", is more original. I haven't reviewed a lot of 'fantasy races' in this section, and Barks' Atlantis is amusing enough to warrant a chuckle. I struggle a little bit with an Egyptian-inspired civilization in the middle of the Atlantic -- but that's before the "Atlanteans spoke the Original language" card is pulled, and I have to remind myself that it's all just a comic book.
(Still prefer the Musker/Clements one, probably.)
Verdict: B+ Tralla La Another classic Barks tale, of an unspoiled civilization in the Himalaya that gets corrupted by one bottlecap -- and nine hundred ninety nine million nine hundred and ninety thousand nine hundred and ninety nine more, to boot! What more is there to say than this is a stone cold classic? Scrooge's constant nerve attacks are a great comic relief, the story progresses with great logic and pace, it's probably the second-best of its ilk. (My favorite being Go Slowly, Sands of Time -- for having a more life-affirming message at the end.)
Verdict: A Outfoxed Fox And finally, the last story. There had to be a dud somewhere along in this run, right? Scrooge's tricks in this story are low, even for him. And I know how Barks is all about how the pursuit of power blinds people, but I find it very hard to believe that a story as simple as this would drive Donald and Jones to tear down their houses, right after the one who told it repeatedly tried to buy them out of their homes. Huey, Dewey, and Louie save the day -- again -- but even Donald is smarter than this. And Scrooge is better than this, come on.
I also don't like how Barks drew Jones in this one, so there.
Verdict: D-
Last Edit: May 3, 2020 16:00:23 GMT by That Duckfan
Back to the old format. Barks' thematic strength has lost some of edge by this point, but he's still as inventive as ever. The Seven Cities of Cibola introduces the Junior Woodchucks' Guidebook, giving the nephews a larger say in the adventure stories than before. The Donald-and-Scrooge slapstick duo gets expanded as well, particularly in the rollercoaster sequence in Land beneath the Ground!
The Seven Cities of Cibola The first straight Scroogean treasure hunt. I've never been overly enamored with it -- the art style of the mid-50s is not as nice as before, and the story is pretty low on incidents compared to its length. The bulk is just a trek across the desert. And the cities themselves aren't as appealing as previous locales. I'm of the opinion that lost civilizations are by definition more interesting than inanimate treasure just lying around. So it's just the Ducks and the Beagles, who have pretty much moved into 'stock baddies' place by this point. Yes, there's the famous boulder sequence -- but personally I think it's one of the worst-designed splash panels Barks ever made. The action is all over the place: up, left, , right. It doesn't read very cleanly, and it's hard to get a sense of the depth of the canyon. Not the best trap ever -- its remakes in The Prize of Pizzaro and Raiders of the Lost Ark are better in this respect. And it leaves the Ducks with amnesia, which is a total cop-out. What did the Ducks do to deserve this, exactly?
Verdict: C (bola) The Million Dollar Pigeon I have a soft spot for Scrooge's "small" endeavors, like his loving care toward Petruccio the carrier pigeon. (Assassin's Creed II flashbacks incoming...) It also prefigures much of The Lemming with the Locket, with Scrooge having to follow an animal that slips away from him over a progression of a few pages. The way he's completely oblivious to physical danger when money's on the line (further exploited in Heirloom Watch) is a brilliant source of comedy as well. Lovely conclusion.
Verdict: A The Mysterious Stone Ray This is a weird story. I always find it sticks out from the Uncle Scrooge adventures like a sore thumb. Not sure why. The first page with five panels of Scrooge looking full of ennui, which starts the story with a weird tone. There's the human-sized professor who's running around with a pot belly and no shirt, and that creepy machine of his straight out of The War of the Worlds, complete with talk about Martians. Science fiction was a life-long pet hobby of Barks, sure but we like to forget about that when we remember Scrooge stories. Barks' taste of science fantasy is pretty much the domain of Gyro Gearloose, or usually signify Barks-when-he-was-a-bit-past-it: The Twenty-Four Carat Moon, Interplanetary Postman, Island in the Sky, The Forbidium Money Bin, The Loony Lunar Gold Rush (though I do like that one myself). In the case of this story, the fantastical gizmo is the main thread keeping the story together -- and it's not enough. There's no thematic thread running through the story, only B-movie pyrotechnics. And the final gag is something that could easily have been in the middle of the story. So... what was the point of going through all that? I do like the conceit that the Beagle Boys are not the aggressor -- at least not initially -- but they're getting dangerously overexposed at this point..!
Verdict: C- A Campaign of Note Weird conceit: Scrooge runs for public office. I guess it works in the vein of his search for social recognition -- and it's definitely one of those things local businessmen do to get their name out there -- but this seems below Scrooge. Also, I don't like billionaires in politics. The fact that Scrooge's popularity stems literally from money being thrown around (like in The Money Stairs, but with Scrooge as the protagonist) and it doesn't backfire on him, that's a mark on Barks. The tuba swtcharoo gag is also pretty entry level. Barks portrays pretty much all politicians as equally untrustworthy slickers, which is something I have a bit of a problem with: it discredits the office itself, rather than the individuals. It's not altogether untrue, but it stimulates a broad apathy toward democracy, paving the way for populists.
Verdict: D- The Lemming with the Locket This is the shortest story in this set. Barks absolutely nailed the pacing in this one. It's one big flow of movement, from the set-up (Scrooge's hubris, his reaction to the lemming scaring the little creature and taking his locket along with it), to the excellently paced chase, the tension building and building until we get to the climactic splash panel. The falling action is punctured with physical comedy, as the Ducks' increasingly desparate attempts prove no match for this force of nature. Finally, the last lemming goes over the cliffs. Only after a parody of Only a Poor Old Man (words and all) do we get Chekhov's cheese. The nephews save the day in the very last panel -- but they get outwitted by Scrooge at the very end.
Verdict: A The Tuckered Tiger The opposite of Statesque Statues -- Scrooge and a marahajah race to see who can lose the most weight before the end of a race. I know cartoon physics is a thing, but this one always struck me as a bit too much on the side of body horror, with the emaciated marahajah and Scrooge pumped full of helium. Ew.
Verdict: F The Fabulous Philosopher's Stone Total classic. It reminds me of Guardians of the Lost Library in that we chase a particular MacGuffin all through time and place, complete with ancient records and foreign languages. From the murky orientalism of Arabian Nights, brought by a Crusader to his castle in Germany, to Rome, to Sicily, to Crete -- where we meet the Minotaur! (Cyprus would have been a like destination, too -- but I appreciate the reference.) Monsieur Mattressface is a hilarious classic Barks design, and the reveal that it's he's not a bad guy is a lovely turn of events. Scrooge's greed becomes his own worst enemy -- to his health! -- and he's forced to let go of the stone for grown-up reasons. This is much more satisfying than Cibola, and not nearly as much in-your-face as Tralla La. A key element to Scrooge stories is that you never know for sure if he'll get his prize in the end, and this is a legit good reason to keep it from him. A nice callback to early Scrooge, while keeping him as the hero of the story. The nephews are key to this balance.
Verdict: A+ Heirloom Watch Excellent little piece. Starting with the classic "Scrooge tries to tell Donald a lesson" set-up, Scrooge gets into scrapes trying to recover every last piece of the watch. The watch as status symbol of the past, and the severity of the Scottish attorneys (voiced by Finlay Currie in my head), really sell to bring Scrooge down a few notches. The unpredicted solar eclipse, an intervention of Gladstonian proportions, raises the atmosphere to almost divine heights, giving the fall that followes all the more of an impact. all of Scrooge's energy comes crashing down in a single Chekhovian revelation. The final panel is a killer.
Verdict: A+ The Great Steamboat Race Impulsivity is the mother of plot-driven comedy. Donald and the kids manage to evoke feelings of the romantic old South, leading to a rat race to finish a riverboat race that started eighty years ago. It's a nice change of pace from the high-stakes adventures of previous issues. Even the antagonist, Horseshoes Hogg, behaves like a good sport -- a true gentleman. In a way, this is a bit sad, as he's pretty much incidental to the plot once the race really gets going. The River Belle gives Scrooge a lot more problems than Hogg does. The sneezing gag might be a bit much, who knows, but this story has so many trappings of the tall tale that I can let it slide. It's gentle and atmospheric.
Verdict: A- Riches, Riches, Everywhere! We're back in Magic Hourglass territory -- Scrooge and Donald wander through the desert looking for water, and all they can find is precious stones. It takes an awful long time to get there, though -- this story is sixteen pages long, and it's really only the last four pages where this thread really gets going. The first three pages are set-up, the next four cast doubt on Scrooge's prospecting skills, and the middle five is this red herring with the Australian claim jumpers (who are... bad... guys..?). You could easily cut this story in half in order to polish it up and you wouldn't lose too much of value.
Verdict: C+ The Golden Fleecing Hm. My main problem with this story is that the Larkies are annoying. They're terrible at hiding their true identity and their cartoon villain laughs are way below the kind of villain you expect from an Uncle Scrooge comic. The constant hee hee!ing also messes up the pacing of the dialogue. Scrooge's food trials don't resonate too well on paper: it's a very static environment (nothing physical), there's nothing visibly hideous about the plates they're serving (Rosa's MAD-inspired details would have had a field day with them), and the language doesn't really carry the repulsiveness all its own. Not unless you have, say, June Foray on hands. Which you don't, because this is a comic book. The Sleepless Dragon gets second billing, and is all the worse off for it. We've seen fiercesome animals: bears in Christmas on Bear Mountain, the serpent in No Such Varmint, etc. This guy's a total pushover. The villains all have zero depth, and once again, the final gag is pretty inconsequential to the plot (the tailor could have pointed this out to Scrooge, but he didn't because plot contrivance).
Verdict: D- Land beneath the Ground! This one's similar to The Secret of Atlantis, in that it's very creative in coming up with a lost civilization, beyond doesn't perform much better than your typical pretty good Barks fare (which is what B tier stories essentially are). Terries and Fermies are iconic, but it's such an oddball exploration that it's hard to fit it in with the other stories. Like the Awfultonians, Terries and Firmies take some elements of American culture (by way of radio), but this doesn't get explored much further than the incidental joke ("eh, podner?") and their final reason for giving Scrooge his money back. The money bin being under attack from a natural, physical threat is something that gets explored on a number of occasions, but never again in a fever dream like this story.
Verdict: B+ Trapped Lightning The first Gyro story! I have a soft spot for them, they're a nice change of pace from the Scrooge stories, which are getting increasingly formulaic. I love Grandma Duck's appearance in this -- she and Gyro are a great pairing. Morty and Ferdie -- well, I'll take 'em. It's interesting that Barks didn't develop any Gyro side characters after having to replace Donald and the kids with Speedy and the other kids. Yes, there's his little helper, but there's no one to talk to Gyro like in this story. He has a lot of adventures on his own.
I've noticed less response for the Scrooge stories... Any reason for that? Should I shorten my reviews, split 'em up, or are Donald stories just more interesting to discuss?
Post by Scrooge MacDuck on May 19, 2020 14:07:32 GMT
Splitting them up might get more replies in. I don't think there's anything but coincidence to the Donald-vs-Scrooge discrepancy, though; if anything, I'd expect Scrooge stories to generate more interest, though maybe, if there is more than a coincidental effect in the amount of replies, this could actually be why — Barks's Scrooge adventures have been talked about to death while the Donald stories are more rarely discussed. I don't know.
But yeah, I think it's mostly the fact that with ten stories in a single post one feels overwhelmed when it comes to presenting a reply.