Pogo, Never Really Gone
By Jonathan Yardley
Monday, May 23, 2005
For many years it has been my passionate conviction that the greatest monument of American literature is Yoknapatawpha, the fictional Mississippi county created by William Faulkner in which all his greatest novels and short stories are set. But when I was young -- too young to understand Faulkner, for sure -- another southern place a few hundred miles to the east seemed to me at once the most magical and believable in all America. It was an actual place, the Okefenokee Swamp in southern Georgia, but in the hands of an amazingly gifted man named Walt Kelly it had been transformed into a universe all its own, a microcosm of America populated by a vast cast of wild, crazy, goofy, fantastic and utterly lovable characters.
Okefenokee had been on the map for ages, though little known outside Georgia. In 1936 the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge was established, with nearly half a million acres of pristine freshwater swampland, but it is no exaggeration to say that it was Walt Kelly who really put Okefenokee on the map, made it a part of the national consciousness. He did so through a hugely popular comic strip called "Pogo" and through the dozens of books in which the stories he told were recycled and granted a somewhat more permanent existence.
Permanence in the world of newspapers and books too often being a sometime thing, Pogo Possum and his many friends (a few enemies, too) now seem about to fall right off the map. Fewer than a half-dozen of Kelly's books are still in print, and most of those are hard if not impossible to find. Because the Pogo books sold well in their time, used copies are fairly easy to come by, but because most appeared as paperback originals they often are in poor condition, doubtless from being lovingly and laughingly read over and over.
The original Pogo collection, "Pogo," the one under reconsideration here, was published in 1951, and followed soon thereafter by that landmark campaign document, "I Go Pogo." I was just entering my teens at the time, in a family that disdained comics in any form, but somehow I found my way to "Pogo" (the book cost all of $1!) and, in the years to come, many of Kelly's other books. Eventually I built up a substantial collection of Kellyana, but sometime during the 1970s or 1980s, in the course of one of my many moves, it disappeared, leaving -- as I now understand after reading "Pogo" for the first time in many years -- a larger hole in my life than I realized at the time.
At the height of the comic strip's popularity, in the late 1950s, "Pogo" circulated in about 600 newspapers and exercised an influence far beyond the comic pages. Kelly had decided political opinions and didn't hesitate to express them in print. He was a liberal of the Adlai Stevenson variety, as I was, too, and he was merciless to those whom he regarded as bugbears, most notably Sen. Joe McCarthy, whom he made into a nasty bobcat called Simple J. Malarkey. By laughing at McCarthy, Kelly almost certainly played a significant role in that demagogue's eventual disgrace, and in later years he took well-aimed whacks at many others, including Richard Nixon, Spiro Agnew, Fidel Castro and Nikita Khrushchev -- and by singling out the last two made plain that he was as capable of laughing at those on the left as on the right.
In 1951, though, all that was ahead of him. Pogo was an innocent possum hanging out in the Okefenokee with Albert Alligator, Howland Owl, the turtle Churchy-la-Femme, Porky Pine, the cow Horrors Greeley, the fetching skunk Mam'zelle Hepzibah, Beauregard the houn' dog, Mallard de Mer ("the seasick duck"), Deacon Muskrat and Wiley Cat. Kelly had been drawing the strip for only a couple of years and was still feeling his way, though evidence of the more complex and outspoken "Pogo" of later years can be found in the last few chapters of this first volume.
Kelly was in his mid-thirties when he began "Pogo," but he had a long and fruitful apprenticeship. Born in 1913 -- for biographical details I am indebted to the excellent Books and Writers Web site, http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/calendar.htm -- he began working on newspapers in Connecticut before he finished high school, skipped college, did newspapering and cartooning in New York and then animation for Walt Disney in California, illustrated manuals for the Army during World War II and at the New York Star started "Pogo," which lived a lot longer than the Star.
Read more on Pogo Never Really Gone.>>
Lemon Thyme-Tinged Corn Sauté Sweet and Sassy Party Mix Summer Pancakes Marinated Asparagus Bundles Escarole & White Bean Soup Beef n' Veggies Broccoli Terrine Creamy Primavera-Stuffed Potatoes Vegetable-Rye Bread Swirled Cheesecake Brownies
Glucagon is one of those things that hasn't changed much in the diabetes world, in terms of packaging, dosing, method of delivery, since the time of my diagnosis in 1982. It's also one of those items that you buy in the same vein as say a generator. You might never use it, but it sure as heck is handy to have should your lights go out. The first time I was given glucagon was on the front lawn of my childhood home. What I remember of that night was going to bed after a...