A one-of-a-kind celebration of America's greatest comic strip--and the life lessons it can teach us--from a stellar array of writers and artistsOver the span of fifty years, Charles M. Schulz created a comic strip that is one of the indisputable glories of American popular culture—hilarious, poignant, inimitable. Some twenty years after the last strip appeared, the characters Schulz brought to life in Peanuts continue to resonate with millions of fans, their beguiling four-panel adventures and television escapades offering lessons about happiness, friendship, disappointment, childhood, and life itself. In The Peanuts Papers, thirty-three writers and artists reflect on the deeper truths of Schulz’s deceptively simple comic, its impact on their lives and art and on the broader culture. These enchanting, affecting, and often quite personal essays show just how much Peanuts means to its many admirers—and the ways it invites us to ponder, in the words of Sarah Boxer, “how to survive and still be a decent human being” in an often bewildering world. Featuring essays, memoirs, poems, and two original comic strips, here is the ultimate reader’s companion for every Peanuts Bialosky Lisa Birnbach Sarah Boxer Jennifer Finney Boylan Ivan Brunetti Hilary Fitzgerald Campbell Rich Cohen Gerald Early Umberto Eco Jonathan Franzen Ira Glass Adam Gopnik David Hajdu Bruce Handy David Kamp Maxine Hong Kingston Chuck Klosterman Peter D. Kramer Jonathan Lethem Rick Moody Ann Patchett Kevin Powell Joe Queenan Nicole Rudick George Saunders Elissa Schappell Seth Janice Shapiro Mona Simpson Leslie Stein Clifford Thompson David L. Ulin Chris Ware
I thoroughly enjoyed these essays, and the few original comics included. Every day I felt like I was having a conversation with someone smarter or more creative than I am but who’d lived through much of the same childhood experiences or feelings, or had some of the same personality traits I do. These writers and artists said everything so much better than I could, so I didn’t talk during these one-sided conversations; but I sure did nod my head a lot in agreement, or recognition.
Like true Peanuts fans, they know the comics are not just about childhood, and its later marketing is not its legacy. Its wit, its minimalism, and its sustained worldview—one that includes in large measure continual frustrated hopes, pessimism, resilience, and imagination—is only partly why it speaks to us and what makes it art. Whether we were drawn to Peanuts in childhood because our inner being recognized its comment on the world as our truth, or whether it helped shape us into the person we continued to become, is perhaps chicken or the egg, but my answer to that question is yes.
This collection of short essays consists primarily of personal testimonials by famous novelists and cartoonists about the greatness of Charles Schulz and that round-headed kid. And – surprise! – some themes emerge, with a clear nod toward philosophical and psychiatric themes.
In Peanuts, no one gets what they want, especially Charlie Brown. Children acting as adults. All the loves unrequited, all the baseball games lost, all the footballs pulled away. Loss and futility. Camus. Sartre. Beckett. Waiting for Godot. I’m not sure how this book compares to the very popular Tao of Pooh books, but from afar it feels like there are parallels. Only in this case, you get a lot of different people contributing to capture the zeitgeist of the comic. Upon finishing these essays, I wondered if the time wouldn’t have been better spent just reading the cartoons again. And I suppose, that’s the whole point.
All the dark themes made for a helluva way to approach a cartoon targeted at children. And yet, this was the gold standard for syndicated strips for a very long time. And I, myself, was both a very happy child and an obsessively devoted Peanuts fan.
My own path to Petaluma began with my family’s periodic trips to Kaufmann’s department store, where my brother and I would each get to choose a book from the 9th floor bookstore. I’m not sure I ever chose anything except mass-market Peanuts paperbacks. And I still own the majority of those volumes, dog-eared and mutilated as one might expect from a pre-teen.
It would be easy enough just to say that as a kid I was simply attracted to the most popular cartoon of the era. But I’m not sure it’s that simple. I liked Peanuts a lot more than many of my peers. And I still like it. Nostalgia is sometimes enough.
Without a doubt, I recognized my own older brother’s cruelty in Lucy, and I felt a kinship towards her brother, Linus, who was philosophical, loving, and tortured. (He was also more neurotic and stoic than me, and definitely less whiny.) I’m pretty sure I learned to roll my eyes from the drawings of Charles Schulz. And I think this was my introduction to sarcasm, which carried me through middle school.
I consumed no shortage of terrible stuff as a child. Children will do that, since they are curious and sometimes not very discerning. But if they are lucky and a little insightful, they can also be drawn to good art. My favorite line in this volume comes from the novelist Anne Patchett:
Influence is a combination of circumstance and luck: where we are taken and what we are shown and what we stumble upon in those brief years when the heart and mind and eyes are fully open and capable of being amazed.
I am grateful that I was given Peanuts as a kid. I still remember so many of the strips. And they still touch a nerve.
You probably wouldn't be reading this unless you already loved Peanuts. The Peanuts Papers is a collection of critical and memoirist pieces explaining why you love it. The writers of these essays have a relationship with the strip that's steeped in a nostalgia that triggers our own. From it they've extracted a meaning of life presaged by the title. Most of them agree its meaning involves loneliness and unrequited love. Even failure. Some use the word existential to describe its overall essence. A few cite the example of haiku to describe its day-to-day enlightenment.
Easily as important as the book's subject is the strong collection of writers represented. There are 29 essays here, 2 poems, and 2 comic strips in tribute. I especially liked Umberto Eco's piece on how the Peanuts characters demonstrate the whole range of the human condition. Another highlight is Ann Patchett's memories of Snoopy. She calls him a novelist, much more writer than dog, and says he taught her many lessons about writing. I was touched by how much Elsa Schappell identifies with Sally Brown. Sarah Boxer, a cartoonist herself, provides a darker picture of Snoopy. A fan of jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi since the early '60s, I was fascinated by Gerald Early's essay, "How Innocence Became Cool," on how the musician created the music for the TV specials. But my favorite thing in the book is Jonathan Lethem's poem for Linus van Pelt, "Grief," a wonderfully imaginative parody of Allen Ginsberg's iconic "Howl." I loved it.
There's much more here: Maxine Hong Kingston, George Saunders, and the book's longest piece by Jonathan Franzen. But whether well-known writer or relatively obscure, they all agree on the cultural importance of Peanuts. Most consider the strip's golden age to be the mid-'50s to the mid-'60s. Many agree that Snoopy is the irrepressible heart of it, yet some comment that his ultimate dominance of the strip overrode the interactions with the kids so that "the air just went out of the strip." I think they'd all admit, though, that as long as he keeps dancing there'll be some joy in the neighborhood.
A great collection of essays from a broad spectrum of Peanuts readers. Essayists reflect on what Peanuts means to them, the deeper meaning of Peanuts, characters, themes, Schulz and favourite strips. If you are working your way through the complete Peanuts, or are familiar with the work of Schulz, then this is a companion along the way.
When you read this review months or years from now, that statement won't make any sense, but this coming Thursday, December 5, 2019, ABC will once again be airing A Charlie Brown Christmas. To be honest I hate the all-Christmas, all-the-time attitude that makes things like two greater Cleveland radio stations change their format to nothing but Christmas music for most of November up to Christmas day, but if either of those stations play something off that special's soundtrack, especially "Linus and Lucy" I won't change the channel. In fact I was driven to tears on a particularly trying day last holiday season when I just asked the universe to play that song for me...and the universe delivered. Happy holidays indeed.
When I have reviewed volumes of Fantagraphics The Complete Peanuts I say that I have no intention to review Schulz's masterpiece and instead post my favorite strip from the collection (often times making a feeble attempt to review it anyway.) The Peanuts Papers is a collection that endeavors to do the exact opposite, featuring a collection of mostly new essays about Peanuts. The writers, artists and others who have contributed to this volume are much smarter and talented than I am, and for that reason alone, Peanuts fans should read this book.
I am not going to dive into the different topics covered in The Peanuts Papers although I will say that you may recognize some of the names in this collection like Jonathan Franzen, Maxine Hong Kingston and Umberto Eco (who has one of the rare essays not written for this collection--he died in 2015) but there are also essays from people you may not be familiar with, in formats you aren't expecting (I'm still trying to get my head around the Howl/Peanuts mashup that appears in this volume.) However, the unified message I got from this volume is how much Peanuts means to so many people. If it didn't it is highly unlikely that The Peanuts Papers would exist. But here we are, and something that seems so simple actually possesses a depth and gravitas that inspires Franzen to write upward of twenty pages about the strip. Something doesn't have to be complicated to be great or influential. Schulz proved that every day for almost fifty years.
I would recommend that all Peanuts fans read The Peanuts Papers if for no other reason than to solidify your own views about Peanuts. I find that seeing how the strip has affected others is a good way to make you organize your own thoughts about it. Maybe you'll figure out why you get giddy at the thought of A Charlie Brown Christmas every year when all the other Christmas crap makes you want to act like Ebeneezer Scrooge.
I received this book as a gift, as I am a fan of the cartoon Peanuts. I grew up reading Charlie Brown cartoons and watching the Charlie Brown Christmas special every year. This book is a tribute to Charles M. Schulz. This book is a collection of 33 prominent writers and artists who wrote about their interpretation, insights and perspective on the deeper truths of the simple comic. I like how the book is categorized into sections: A) The big picture B) Characters C) Two Poems D) Off the page E) True stories. At the end of the book, I like how Editor Andrew Blauner lists the contributors and a short bio about each person. I particularly liked Chris Ware's contribution, "Drawing Empathy," pages 85-98. He respectfully writes about Schulz's faith as a devout Christian despite himself declaring he is an atheist. Fans of the Peanuts cartoon can clearly see Schulz's faith illustrated through his work, the character Charlie Brown and the characters. Despite one's faith, I think everyone can appreciate all the characters of Peanuts. As a child growing up, I found that reading and watching Peanuts characters was refreshing and of quality with substance to get the audience to self-reflect even as young children. Not very many cartoonists are able to do such in a positive manner. I respect and admire any artist who is NOT afraid to share their passions and faith through their talents. Overall a very good read.
It had some well-written, interesting essays but also some long, dull ones. Some could’ve been more related to Peanuts. It would’ve been nice if the editor included the mentioned strips along with the essays for easy reference.
I picked up the Kindle edition of "The Peanuts Papers" as a reading option for the two-day Christmas holiday knowing that I would likely be stuck at home due to my recent surgery and would be unlikely to have much in the way of company.
I read the book fairly quickly, though it's at times a heavier read in terms of a more intellectual exegesis of the lifelong work of Charles Schulz that came alive through the Peanuts cartoon strip.
This Library of America special publication is a hit-and-miss affair, and often compelling collection of essays from a wide variety of writers, etc. sharing the impact of Peanuts on their lives and careers. Some of the essays are a stretch, personal experiences disguised as intellectual rambling and essays that find things within Peanuts that qualify as nothing more than theories at best.
The best essays are the more personal ones, the ways in which Peanuts truly impacted the lives of writers and changed the ways they saw themselves and the world. The collection is at times involving, other times I found myself more skimming than deeply reading the collection.
As a lifelong Peanuts fan, I wanted to appreciate this collection much more than I did. However, I will acknowledge it's likely more a 3.5 than a 3. I clearly don't have that option and a 4-star rating feels just a tad high. So, 3-stars it is. As I wind down my 2019 writing, I'd hoped to finish with a really great book but I'd have to say this was a more middle-of-the-road experience for me. I don't regret having read it, but I doubt I'll ever have the desire to revisit it again.
Writers and cartoonists from all walks of life take turns telling us about their personal experience with reading and experiencing Charles Schultz’s wonderful and long-running Peanuts comic.
Peanuts ran from 1950 until the day after he died in 2000. The simple drawings in the 4 panel strips often conveyed a deep truth through the mouths of children. There was never an adult in the strip, and themes of failure and depression were always there. And yet, it was so popular. It struck a chord with so many of us that it still runs in the newspapers over 20 years after his death.
Fans of the strip and the animated shows tend to have their favorite characters…Linus, Schroeder, Lucy, Peppermint Patty, Charlie Brown…I guess I’ve always been a Snoopy fan. I can admit that because of Snoopy, I had a brief interest in WW1 fighter planes. I used to pretend I was flying in one of them as I rode my bike. So basically, I was imitating a cartoon dog who was also pretending to fly a plane while on top of his doghouse while I was riding my bike.
The book is an anthology with many contributors. Some are better than others. It would probably help if you are a fan of Peanuts. If not, it might not be your thing.
I was intent on reading this straight through, but that intention ground to a halt upon reaching the essay "A Space for Thinking" by Nicole Rudick, wherein the first page it's all collective trauma, historical process, grim efflorescence of existential experience - at 8 pages plus footnotes it was a real bummer. So I started skimming around, but the constant theme seemed to be that the essayists identified so hard with Charlie Brown, that, like that Onion article, they understood Peanuts on a much deeper level than the average newspaper reader. You get the feeling that each and every one cannot fawking wait for the call to write a piece on what Calvin and Hobbes meant to them.
The Allen Ginsberg pastiche, "Grief", by Jonathan Lethem is, by far, the best, most intellectually playful and honest, entry.
If you are a fan of the Charles Schulz comic, this is a wonderful read. It took me many months to finish because I would read just one of the essays at a time and then reflect on it before moving on. Seeing different authors and artists consider and comment on Peanuts was wonderful.
Some of these essays were the equivalent of those people who post on the internet when storylines don't go their way.
"But Person 1 and Person 2 are meant to be! Ugh, this show is ruined now! I hate you writers!"
At least 4 essays were about how Peanuts was so bad at the end, Snoopy ruined it with his fantasy life, blah, blah.
Look, I grew up reading the later version of Peanuts in the papers. It was the best part of the Sunday to see the comics, and Snoopy and the gang was my favorite. I'm pretty sure I cried a little when it ended. I didn't need to read how it was soulless after the mid-80s. Just let me enjoy Snoopy dancing in peace please.
2 stars instead of 1, because a few people weren't mad.
I’ve been a huge Peanuts fan my entire life, so when this one came out, i was excited to get it, and at Christmastime no less. This book was less than I wanted it to be; a collection of hit or miss essays that ran the spectrum from personal essay to theories and allegories on the gospel of Linus.
As other have said, the most personal essays are the best, they take you into the author’s mind and show you what you haven’t seen, or remind you what you love most about a specific character.
Sadly, there wasn’t much excitement for me here, and it felt more like required reading than the joyful jaunt I’d hope it would be.
As one who grew up with the Peanuts comicstrip -- and then, in my 20s, bought a lot of their collected strips and an intriguing little book called "The Gospel According to Peanuts" -- I found much in this collection of persons talking about how they had related to, or had been influenced by, this still-lively strip.
That said, I suspect is it only those who are truly Peanuts aficianodos who will revel in this collection. It is pleasant to enter into Charles Schultz's world from the perspective of others who were not only just "fans," but also people who found some meaning in these far from childlike strips.
Should you be such a person, I highly recommend this enjoyable collection!
I’ve long been a great fan of the work of Charles Schulz. Peanuts is, for me, like many of my generation, a touchstone. Some of my earliest memories are of my Mom reading through some of the large compilations that were frequently published in the late sixties.
This collection includes essays from many leading writers who have been influenced by the Peanuts strips.
Adam Gopnik writes of the mismatched personas in the strip. Lucy, the least empathetic, becomes a counselor. He also references as one of his favorite strips one that I myself often speak of. C.B, Linus,and Lucy are looking at clouds. It ends with the punchline from Charlie Brown “ Well, I was going to say a ducky and a horse, but I changed my mind. “ As Gopnik states this illustrates Linus and his Chekhovian predicament. An intellectual can become imprisoned, rather than empowered, by the range of referencewe bring to the world. Also addressed by Gopnik is he difference in the meaning between the depression CB speaks of versus the more clinical meaning in today’s world.
Bruce Handy mentions in his essay a great comparison of Shultz and The Beatles. Stating that the authors brush got wider and more colorful as he grew through the sixties. This brings the line that “ Shermy “ ,who appeared in the very first strip, disappeared completely by the late sixties. He became the strips very own Pete Best
Nicole Rudick speaks of the “ space and patience “ of the strip and compares specific strips to their obvious influences including Godot and The Last Supper. Once explained they are spot on but leave me feeling a bit like CB looking at those clouds and seeing a duck.
The novelist Anne Patchett writes of discovering and always associating the strips with her discovery of them at summer retreats with family in Paradise, California. Her writing is so evocative, “ that sharp detail with which I can remember my grandparents house is overwhelming to me now. The layout of the garden, the neighbors cherry trees, the line quail across the back lawn in the morning to the ground level birdbath my grandmother kept both of them, the little bottles of enamel paint she kept in a shoebox beneath the kitchen sink so that we could paint rocks, family affair on TV and the Watergate hearings in the evenings, all of these things are so vivid in my mind it’s painful to look at them again.” I, myself, can so relate to these happy memories being so bright that one must at times shut them out so that today does not appear dark in comparison.
Of course these feelings of mine and Patchett’s probably offer great proof to why no matter the generation there is a general willingness to look at the past with a level of nostalgia that remembers things in a way much better than they probably were.
Elissa Schappell writes a chapter on her love of Sally Brown and it might be the best in the book. She talks about Sally’s famous malapropism’s including “ Violins Breaking Out “. She writes of the strips where Sally speaks to the brick wall at her elementary school ( and we see the thoughts of the school ) and I loved those strips. Sally is the real feminist in the strip, even though it might take the author here’s interpretation to see it.
Rich Cohen talks about The Gospel According to Linus and speaks of the nakedly religiosity of the Christmas special and, in fact, The Great Pumpkin episode as well. It’s clearly true upon reflection
A few talk about the importance of Vince Guiardi’s score to the Peanuts work but Gerald Esrly probably best of all.
Jennifer Finney Boylan talks about growing up in her pre trans years and the importance of both Peppermint Patty and, oddly, Pigpen, as being true to themselves.
Jonathan Franzen contributes a strong piece which speaks about the lessons of disillusionment, etiquette, and fiction he was taught. By referencing specific strips he does the less obsessive reader s great service.
David Kamp speaks about the current references Schulz would slip into his strips starting with Charlie Browns famous ( to baseball fans of a certain era at least ) of “ why couldn’t Mccovey’s have hit the ball three feet higher.
Janice Shapiro writes a comic herself explaining her love of Linus and noting her hometown paper revered Peanuts so much in her sixties childhood that it was taken off the comics page and placed in the front section. This made it surrounded by news and just as she celebrated being able to read Peanuts by itself she also became aware of scary men killing nurses and shooting college students from towers at a much too young age.
God knows I am a Peanuts acolyte, so this book was absolutely written for me. I bought it at a talk at this year’s Boston Book Festival with the intention of giving it to mom for Hanukkah, and at the last minute had the panelists sign it to both of us. Through a couple dozen contributors, authors and cartoonists alike including Jonathan Franzen, Chris Ware and Ira Glass, this compilation celebrates Charlie Brown’s depressive nature, Snoopy’s gleeful mayhem, Linus’s solemn decency, Lucy’s rage and spunk, and all the rest of the gang in their minimally decorated panels. Each contributor identifies with a different character, but nonetheless all shared some memory of the sacred time reading Peanuts in their town’s newspaper in the mornings as children. There is something really beautiful about just how far reaching is Charles Schultz’s appeal, there really is something for everyone. I loved every minute of reading this, especially with my Vince Guaraldi playlist on Spotify as a soundtrack. There really is so much in this world to digest and analyze: World War I flying aces, Great Pumpkins, child psychiatry, brick walls specially designed for contemplation, television specials, the beauty of the aforementioned Vince Guaraldi’s music, the simplicity of the drawing style, to say nothing of the depth of feeling in the themes of love and rejection, hope and despair that bleed through every strip.
(And in a truly O. Henry moment, I gave this signed copy to Mom for Hannukkah not knowing that she had bought the same for me!)
Like any collection of essays on a single subject some are very good, Jonathen Franzen on how Peanuts fit into his life, some are enlightening, Gerald Early on the jazz of Vince Guaraldi and the musical tone of the Peanuts TV specials, some dense and overwrought, Umberto Eco from a Peanuts introduction written in 1963.
There are some poems, one very good and heart felt, Jill Bialosky's A Childhood in Four Acts and one a mash up of the words of Alan Ginsberg and Charles Schulz called Grief by Jonathan Lethem that didn't resonate with me.
All were written by authors and artists who became entranced with Charles Schulz's characters in the 60's, most as pre-teens. While the essays bring different points of view the conclusions are the same. Schulz's pictures of a spare suburban landscape were unique allowing for a focus on the characters words and expressions. These words laid out life's disappointments, uncertainties and conflicting relationships told by Charlie Brown, Linus and Lucy and the thoughts of Snoopy in a way that brought true humor and deep insights. Much of this insight began to fade away in the late 70's and 80's as Peanuts became spokespeople for Hallmark and Metropolitan Life and less a part of the daily dialog at the start or end of a day in morning or evening papers.
There’s quite variety of contributors to this collection, so enjoyment went up and down as I read. My favorite chapter by far was the one by Gerald Early. I loved reading about Vince Guaraldi, the author’s first impressions of his music (I still need to listen to “Cast Your Fate to the Wind”) and the music he wrote for the TV specials. When I looked up Early’s bio in the back of the book, I was surprised to discover he isn’t a music writer, since he wrote so eloquently about it. I liked the chapters drawn as comic strips and the ones that had more reminiscing than analyzing. The Jonathan Lethem poem made me want to set fire to my kindle. I picked this up because I have fond memories about the strip and the specials, but a lot of the chapters were kind of a bummer. Written by some clearly very brainy people, but not what I was expecting. It took me a while to get through, but I’m glad I finally got to it. It does make me want to read more books about Charles M. Schulz, Peanuts, or some of the old collections again.
I consider myself a Peanuts fan, and while it has been 20 years since the last original Peanuts strip, yet, the strip still continues to populate most newspapers, and still influences people. This work is a series of essays where various authors/comics/artists/personas discuss the impact of Peanuts on their lives and work. The essays run the gambit, from a professional/historic analysis of the series, to include the television specials and related works outside of the papers to a discussion of the personal impact of Peanuts on their respective lives. Some of the writers did meet Charles Schultz in his lifetime, and there were varying degrees of admiration and disappointment.
Overall, this is a work for the serious Peanuts fan. The casual Peanuts reader probably won't like this, but I found it enlightening and fascinating. With compilation works, the quality of writing can vary. Still, this was worth the time to read.
It's deeply reassuring to find so many others who experienced a genuine emotional connection with Charles Schulz's work. When I briefly and naively contemplated a life in academia as an undergrad I sketched out the class on Peanuts I would one day teach. How the archetypal characters represented different aspects of the American consciousness, that the strip in totality was an existentialist yet sympathetic examination of 20th century middle class life...high-falootin' stuff, I know. When you're 20 nothing feels out of reach.
Perhaps then it goes without saying that Peanuts was never just a comic strip to me, something easy and dispensable. And it's far more than that to the essayists and cartoonists you'll encounter in this collection. Although the essays vary wildly in topic and tone they all reveal a reverence and enthusiasm for Schulz as a genuine artist.
It's truly gratifying to me that a book of this sort exists. If you're a Peanuts fan you'll likely feel the same.
This was a very fun read having, like so many growing up reading Peanuts in the local newspaper and then in those convenient paperbacks. I thought I knew all there was about Charles Schulz and Peanuts, but the various essays provided quite a bit of new material. I will give one example that had the effect of 'mind blown'. The 'little red haired girl' who Charlie Brown pines for the duration of the strip was based on a real life person named Donna Mae (Johnson) Wold. She married Allan Wold, a firefighter. My name is Mark Wold and I am a recently retired firefighter! Unsure if there is any relation, as Wold is not shall we say a common name. So suffice to say, if you like Peanuts and looking for a well collected set of essays on your favorite characters and author give it a read.
The best part of this book is that it is a celebration of something we all love ... Certain things, however, do not require psychoanalysis and a cartoon strip falls into that category ... Peanuts has cultural importance and for me personally Snoopy and Chuck are friends of mine, friends that continue to enrich my life - and that is all - I'm not sure it requires any deeper exploration ... Reading about the Peanuts phenomenon has its moments, but this book ends up feeling like a contest, a contest to see who's the most intellectual contemplator about Charlie Brown - "Good f'n Grief!" ... What the hell, the "Characters" section is very much worthwhile, and I got to spend 300+ pages with Snoopy
My favorite pieces in this collection were the one about Vince Guaraldi and the one discussing Percy Crosby's SKIPPY and its influence on Schulz. I was hoping one of the contributors would make the devil's-advocate case that the earliest strips, from circa 1950-55, were the peak of PEANUTS, which is what I've thought ever since I discovered the very first PEANUTS collection at the beach house we used to rent every summer in Rehoboth, Del. (Note: This is the kind of boring personal detail too many contributors to this book include, at much more painful length.) None of them did, though...
As with any collection of essays by a variety of authors, The Peanuts Papers has its highs and lows. Given the subject matter, however, even the lows provided entertainment as I disparaged the faulty perceptions of those who did not experience the Peanuts characters as I did. Then the highs ... I will definitely be rereading Ann Patchett’s Snoopy tribute and Elissa Schappell’s identification with Sally Brown more than once. And, obviously a shoutout to David Kamp’s “Plus, I learned the word ‘quaff.’”
I was in such good company reading this. I don't know too many Peanuts fans, people who can remember strips by heart, so this was a treat. I found myself nodding my head throughout, agreeing that the early years were by far the best, and that the characters felt like my real friends. I would finish a book and be stunned and sad that I wasn't living in their same neighborhood. What a profound influence this man was in my life.
3.5 stars. Erudite, New Yorker-ish essays dominate the early pages. There's quite a bit of repetition among the essays, which are heavily larded with references to Beckett, Sartre, Kierkegaard, etc. The pieces get a bit more readable as the book progresses. Reading inspired me to go dig into my Peanuts anthologies.
Very meh - many of the essays in the collection are overwrought and use overly pretentious vocabulary, probably to maintain the illusion of being high-brow when discussing something comic books. Disappointing.
If you love peanuts dont read it. Most of the context/references would be lost on non-americans. Barely few essays are ok. Rest are just pointless boring musings of some random author you never knew about/would never want to know. Not worth your time.