When you’re anxiously waiting to see if there’s going to be some sort of mild break on the race to the fascist bottom or not, you sometimes find yourself thinking thoughts like “I wonder what the top-rated Tony Strobl stories are on inducks? Not counting the Barks ones.” These are the things I think about. Now. Seriously. It’s Tuesday afternoon as I write this. So I took a look, and the answer may surprise you: yes, to no one’s surprise, “King Scrooge the First” is atop the list. But actually, that’s the ONLY Barks story in the top ten (I would’ve but thankfully didn’t bet anything that “Pawns of the Loup Garou” would be second), and almost the only one in the top twenty (“Bottled Battlers” and “Officer for a Day” come in at ninteen and twenty). Second is “Mathmagic Land,” which–fair. Purely in terms of artistic proficiency, I think you could make a very good case for that.
Third is…this. A story I had never heard of, from…1972? That seems like an unusual year for a Strobl classic, but hey, I would NOT complain! Lay it on me! Well, just below this one, we have “Safari to Komba Tomba.” And I have to say, spoilers, that one would be a WAY better candidate for Strobl’s best than this one, which…well, as I’ve said before, stories that are oddly highly-ranked tend to be that way due to being published in the right time and right place more than anything else, and this is straightforwardly an example of that. It’s not a horrible story, but it’s not especially good, either. I certainly wouldn’t put it in my top ten Strobl joints (there’s something for another time). It threatens to do a few interesting things and then doesn’t. If not for its inducks rating, I’d never be covering it, because I would almost certainly never have heard of it, and if I had, I wouldn’t think anything of it.
Hoo boy. Well, right up-top, you get the impression that if this is in fact a good story, that’s going to be based more on the writing than the art. Strobl not putting in his best work here. Look how hideous Gladstone is in particular. Do I like his weariness at the cupcakes? Kind of, but I don’t think there’s any particular vision of the character that the art is putting forward; it’s just kind of haphazard. So who did write this? Unclear. Inducks isn’t saying, and I don’t get any particular intuitive sense. Could it be Strobl himself? I know he wrote some number of stories, though not when or how many.
So this is kind of interesting. I mean, it’s subtle, but it’s there. So: we know that when you find a rich guy’s wallet, you get a Fat Reward for returning it. That is a given. And yet…in this story, it’s sort of not? Look at Donald’s line in the last panel: “Blast! Double-blast! He WILL get a reward!” Yes. Of course he will, and it’s notable that you’re saying that, as though there were actually some doubt. There isn’t! I dunno; maybe someone should write a story where the big twist is that someone finds a wallet and DOESN’T end up with a Fat Reward. But that in itself would be a unique situation!
Was that interesting? Well, your mileage may vary. I feel like “Lightfingers” is more of a name for a pickpocket than a generous guy, but whatevs. Donald has this whistle. What hijinx shall result?!?
I have to say, Donald’s line in the top right there is really about as bizarre as it gets. Let me quote it, in the unlikely chance that someone for some reason searches for it: don’t anybody speak to me! I’m going to sit here and blow on my whistle for a while! Then I may just run outside and kick myself around the house! Right. I enjoy how heedlessly destructive his TWEEEEOOOT!ing is.
Boom! Yup, Parthenope was a siren, all right. Very mythologically accurate, Strobl. Good job. Of course, I’m not sure sirens granted people wishes, per se, so maybe bad job?
I don’t know! She does, is the point! Blah! I feel like…you probably actually have to EARN things like gold epaulets in the Junior Woodchucks? Then again, that’s not specified anywhere; it’s all medals. So maybe dressing like a Fancy Dan is just an optional extra.
It’s not really dwelt on, but I enjoy the way it’s just assumed yeah, we definitely want this massive-ass Roman palace. Why wouldn’t we? Also, fair play, although most of the art is kind of eh, I do enjoy Pat lolling there eating fruit, looking like Salome or someone.
Kind of tedious stuff with Daisy here, and yet…
I mean. Really. I feel like her annoyance here is kind of justified. THIS IS REALLY SEXUALIZED. It’s interesting how blatant and how clumsy a lot of NBW writers make this stuff. Barks was much more subtle when he gestured in this direction.
Still a normal person would probably start with more of a WFT? attitude. What? How? Also, I’m pretty sure Donald could resolve the conflict by inviting her to wish for something, but that obvious solution does not occur to him.
Especially illegal when you’re literally knocking down the houses next to you. Can’t really argue with this.
Is THAT the trouble with sirens? I feel like the trouble with sirens is getting lured to your death on the rocks. But I guess there can be two things.
Roman coins aren’t all that rare or valuable, you know. They made a ton of them. You can get one on ebay for ten or twenty dollars. But is he putting one in the parking meter? That’s probably pushing it.
I mean, if I thought about it, I’d probably conclude that being a rich Roman could indeed be so complicated. But why are we limiting ourselves to being Romans? As we’ve seen from the wishes the kids made, it’s not like Pat can only give you Roman-themed wishes. You are being entirely too literal here, Donald.
And I’m sorry again, but this is just some bad art from Strobl. I’m a fan! I want to be encouraging whenever possible! But just LOOK at those nephews. Dangit. There is a vein of humor to be mined, I think, from the Ducks’ regular stuff turning into unfeasibly huge and ornate stuff, but again, we don’t get to see much of it. Indeed, their palace seems weirdly sparsely-furnished.
Right, it’s Wednesday now, and things went better than anyone predicted, so we’re good. Sort of. Hopefully. For now. I thought you’d want to know my mental state as I write this. So several things to say here.
First: your only real problem is your gigantic cartoon mansion thing. If you’d just stay calm and think rationally, you could keep getting wishes and everything would be fine. But, you say, that’s kind of missing the point: sure, it might seem fine for a while, but we are just so fundamentally what we are that it’s just inevitable for things to go wrong. That would be fine, but the story itself sure doesn’t seem to support it.
Second…I mean, the way this works. They send her off, explain that they can’t be having with her anymore, she leaves, and then, oh, we’ll just bring her back to fool Gladstone. There is no drama here!
Third, I don’t know, man. It’s irresponsible to let Donald mess around with it, but Gladstone, that’s just fine and dandy? Dunno about that one.
(Anyway, this is the last you’ll see of ol’ Parthenope, so say goodbye. She doesn’t get much of a character arc.)
Of course, the idea of Gladstone desperately trading all his luck-related shit for the whistle is silly. But the idea is actually super-interesting, in theory. What kind of problems would Gladstone run into with Pat? I don’t know, but I’d like to see ’em. Well, tough luck for me, because this is ALL there is. We’ll not see or hear about Gladstone anymore. Come on, guys, ya gotta at least try a little.
And this is resolved like…this, which, I dunno. It’s hard to find it particularly inspiring or interesting one way or another. I suppose it might make psychological sense that, on seeing the kind of insanity that she did, she would decide, for the purpose of her own sanity, that it was all a dream.
And dang, this ending is just sort of the default Disney ending, innit? A character in the story was distressed by something, so they freak out when they see another example of that thing at the end. Certainly a well Barks went to plenty of times, and now even THIS fantastic tale does it! Unbelievable!
