Sometimes, whatever interest a story may have is purely exogenous. Such is the case here, as we have the first post-Barks ten-pager. In WDC 312, it was “The Not-So-Ancient Mariner”–and in 313, BOOM, “Something to Quack About” (yes, there were also a number of Barksless issues of WDC before then–we’re trying to simplify a little here). How does this work out? Well, let’s GIVE ’em something to quack about, shall we? If this were Lockman, I feel like that would be “Something to Wak About.”
This is a Strobl/Gregory production, which might make you at least tentatively hopeful. This was, more or less, before Gregory’s fall into I-don’t-know-what, and Strobl is always Strobl. That house there may not quite be Barks, but hey, it still doesn’t look too bad. But if, like me, you’re intensely curious about what their “collection of Duckburg artifacts” consists of, I am sorry to say you will find no answers here. Note also that this is a “Donald and Daisy” story, as were “The Beauty Business” and “Mariner” and many subsequent–was Western trying to reach more girls? I wish I knew more details.
The “and Daisy” here concerns this. Apparently, Cornelius Coot (ne Quackberry?) lived here. That other duck is named Clarissa, presumably in homage to Samuel Richardson, and somehow here arms-folded pose there is cracking me up. She’s quite smug about this down payment!
The transparent insincerity of Donald’s “that’s too bad!” is something. Daisy’s batted eyes are something else, though I couldn’t quite say what.
First: “dassn’t.” I feel like that’s a Southern thing, but I know it’s not; I only know I remember it from Huckeberry Finn (where it’s styled “dasn’t”). What an odd thing for Donald to say, though. Second: Donald’s facial expression there in the lower right. I feel like I’ve never seen him quite looking like that before. An expresion that seems to bespeak a determination to, in spite of the sacrifice it entails, is determined to help Daisy. It’s pretty impressive work on Strobl’s part, and it suggests a more emotionally complicate story than this is actually going to be. In fact, whatever internal conflict Donald my be experiencing never shows up again. Maybe it would be different were it Barks, but…it ain’t. Shrug.
If you want to learn more about the house or anything, too bad: the balance of the story consists of Donald inadvertently causing extremely mild havoc. If that’s what you enjoy, you will definitely enjoy it.
And here is a GREAT out-of-context panel. Seriously: don’t you want there to be a Roy Lichtenstein painting of this one? I’d shell out for a print of that.
Unfortunately, we do get a little of this unappealing war-of-the-sexes stuff, with Daisy jumping to unreasonable conclusions. I mean, REALLY, jeez, he looks half-dead in the upper left there–far from “goofing off.” Maybe a LITTLE quality-of-mercy might be warranted?
And then: this. That cop sure is keen on lecturing people about anti-noise laws! Well, he’s a cop; out of all the things he could be doing, that’s probably one of the least harmful.
Seriously, the noise police are way better than the regular police. And as someone who’s sometimes a little bit sensitive to noise, I sort of appreciate them. As long as they’re not doing other police stuff. Otherwise, ACAB all the way.
“The junkman is taking his ease.” Whatever else you want to say about this story (and you probably don’t want to say much, honestly), it DOES provide us with that little phrase. I love it so much. Oughta be the title, if you ask me.
I’m a sucker for Donald cheerfully ruining people’s cars in really obvious ways, so I’m down with this.
It’s ridiculous, but it’s kind of fun, and it’s here so we can get back to the Quackberry place.
And…meh. I don’t love a story where Donald gets whacked with a board, or umbrella, for no good reason. I can do without it! But, as you can no doubt tell from Garden Club Lady’s expression in the bottom right, things are looking up.
Okay, “let’s watch our language in front of the boys” is not a bad joke for a story like this. But what does Daisy even MEAN by saying she’s not interested in the house? She is too! Look back at the beginning: “isn’t this place wonderful!” she exclaims, as she emerges from the house. “The founder of Duckburg lived here,” she adds, if there were any doubt that she was talking about the house. Come on, man.
IS it “not bad?” I doesn’t make a huge amount of sense to me, I have to tell you. What does that admission fee have to do with the tree? I mean, wouldn’t there be a fee anyway? Sure, Donald and Daisy are both getting what they wanted, so that’s great, but what does the tree have to do with anything? Is it that there wouldn’t be any justification for charging anything if not for it? Look, Gregory: if you actually have a coherent idea of what’s meant to be happening here, I’m afraid you’ll have to do a little more to spell it out, me being a blogger of very little brain.
Okay okay, this story wasn’t very interesting. I have to admit it. And the title has little to do with anything. I am sorry for failing all of you. In atonement, why don’t I show you some of the other bounteous treasures this issue has to offer, such as:
…well, bounteous is as bounteous does. THAT’S BABY TALK!! Oh hi, Vic, you crazy fuckin’ Bircher.
Question: “Caesar Romano?” Who? Are we getting Cesar Romero’s name confused? If not, who the heck is this meant to be? And either way, why is his coin worth fifty thousand dollars? I find this highly inscrutable.
To the hobby center! I’m really only putting this here because it sets up the main…thing in the story, such as it is. I enjoy the proprietor dopily turning that crank.
I mean, it’s a fairly slick l’il plot. Admittedly, it relies on Scrooge being fairly dimwitted. Also, it seems pretty iffy that they could make a compartment big enough to hold coins without destroying the plane’s functionality. But other than those things: great job, guys!
And then they only fail due to bad luck. So it goes. That “do a loop” joke is so unspeakably dumb that I can’t help sort of loving it. Sort of hating it, also. Which feeling is stronger? Support me on patreon to find out.
Anyway, the Beagles are foiled when they run the hell off a random pier into the ocean in the middle of town. As happens. Look, when it comes to a story like this, you’ve gotta just take what you can get.
Then, they kick one another’s asses while howling in pain. This may possibly not be Strobl’s finest hour. Seriously, just LOOK at their legs. What the hell?
More? Jeez, you’re demanding. Well, how about:
Whoa ho ho! Hard to argue with that pitch! Let’s do it.
Okay. I don’t altogether understand that “flattery will get you nowhere,” but if I did, I feel like I might be vaguely offended. Anyway, shades of those Bottaro Witch Hazel/Goofy stories.
Also, Mim does come across as relatively appealing here, as these things go. That “you’re stupid but you’re nice!” indicates a fair bit of brio.
Yes. So it turns out her super saleswoman technique is just mugging people and then kicking their asses. Go with what works, I guess.
Scrooge likewise. Not sure how Goofy’s going to replicate these techniques on his own, though.
But, alas, then he loses all his money thanks to his dimwittedness. It’s not clear whether Scrooge is doing this specifically because he was mesmerized earlier, or just instinctive salesmanship.
Another way you could get out of more dinners is just by not extending invitations for no reason. I dunno. Well…yeah. That’s that.
What? MORE? We are rather scraping the bottom of the barrel here, but okay, have this one-pager:
This seems solely notable for Weirdly Natty Gus. Seriously, what in the world is with that suit? He appears to be wearing his normal clothes under it, at any rate. And what were he and Donald doing out there, anyway? Just a social visit? Okay; fine. I guess.
More? NO. This is where I draw the line. The only other thing in this issue is the first part of a Murry Mickey Mouse serial, and I feel that my opinions on those are well-known. I did read it–somehow I momentarily forgot that these are always serials, so if I want to see the exciting ending, which I don’t, I must read on. It’s not among the worst of these; it’s just pretty boring. Only two theoretically interesting things about it: first, it features Spooks the Gorilla, indicating that the author knows their Gottfredson. And second, the author is identified as Alpine Harper, who is the first female Western creator of any kind I’ve ever heard of. She’s not very prolific, and she’s co-credited with her husband Cecil Beard, and they both have (?) by their names, casting doubt on the whole thing, so who knows what any of this means or anything. Still, it’s not nothing. I suppose.
