Charles M. Schulz: Conversations (Conversations with Comic Artists) [Englisch] [Taschenbuch]

Not the usual skimpy biography or comic compilation, this is a lengthy (300-plus pages) and thoughtful Q&A session between Schulz and well-prepared and insightful interviewers. Schulz' modesty, thoughts on life and humor, and love of his craft are easy to discern, and the details of the history of "Peanuts" and the creative process are, quite obviously, as "inside" as they come. Amply illustrated with comic strips. A fitting tribute.

All of the comics, and some parts of popular culture in general, continue on in the shadow of "Peanuts". True, the strip's popularity declined in the late 1990s. And some found it "too commercial". Not only that, the comic strip itself has seen a depressing decline (the fate of the traditional comic strip gets tied to the fate of newspapers in general; the two seem inseparable; today's internet comics have a different sort of life). Still, Charlie Brown and Snoopy, in some ways, have become as ingrained in popular culture as Charlie Chaplin or John Wayne. And nothing has come close to filling the void that "Peanuts" left behind in the year 2000. After all, "Peanuts" was to the comic strip page what the Beatles were to popular music. Both heightened and expanded their genres irreversibly and with undisputed universal influence.

Though "Peanuts" remains somewhat ubiquitous, its creator, Charles Schulz, remains downright enigmatic. He never openly courted fame, and he poo-pooed notions that his comic strip represented any sort of an "art form". The interviews collected in this book help bring Schulz to life. They lift that strange veil that surrounds his character. But even after reading this entire book, Schulz retains a good deal of his strange elusiveness. And that might have just as much to do with the readers than with the creator of "Peanuts".

We've come to expect celebrities to act a certain way, to be a certain way, and to flaunt themselves in a certain way. Schulz contradicted most of our assumptions about what a celebrity represents and stands for. With all of his lavish success and international honors he continually downplayed his achievements by saying that he "only draws a comic strip". He seemed confused, but gracious, by the fuss that people made over "Peanuts". When asked about his creative process by multiple interviewers in this book, his collective responses pretty much sum up to "it's a job". He claimed he didn't know where his ideas came from. And his focus remained on drawing 365 strips a year, and that remained the main focus of his life. The Schulz that ultimately emerges from these interviews seems self-deprecating and a little bitter, but nonetheless cautiously proud of his stature in the comic strip realm (though always adding "it's only a comic").

On the flip side from Schulz's Midwestern "boy next door" demeanor stands his fairly lavish lifestyle. The soft spoken, modest Schulz lived in almost palatial estates packed with the luxuries of the day. Kenneth Wilson's interview from 1967 begins with his becoming almost hopelessly lost in the vastness of the "Coffee Grounds" in Northern San Fransisco (where Schulz lived with his first wife until around 1972). Schulz later admitted that the Redwood Empire Ice Arena had cost him $140,000 a month to maintain. He also had his own private golf course. So there's a tension between the soft-spoken comic strip man and the man possessing a fabulous, unimaginable fortune.

So something's happening here. And this something makes these interviews scintillating to pressure point. Schulz also claimed that he was not an intellectual; that he didn't understand deep appreciations of his work (such as Umberto Eco's rhapsody on the psychological wonders of "Peanuts"). Nonetheless, he enjoyed Fellini movies, great novels (Tolstoy), "Citizen Kane", Classical Music (particularly Brahms), and George Herriman's "Krazy Kat" (a wildly intellectual comic strip; the only one that usually beats out "Peanuts" on "best strip" polls). He was also deeply religious, had taught Sunday School to adults, didn't believe that Christianity should have denominations, and had a well thought out argument against prayer in public schools. So his innocent child-like persona either belied self-knowledge on his own part or was a facade put on for the public. Thomas Hart Benton, the famous American painter, was deeply intellectual and well-read but was terrified of letting his fans know this. He thought it would negatively affect the public portrayal of his paintings. For similar reasons Ben Franklin wore a fur cap to Versailles. Was Schulz up to the same thing? He comes across as a pretty smart and worldly guy throughout these interviews. But he also continually made statements such as "I don't get that" or "that's above me". Maybe he thought cartoonists shouldn't display intellectual capacities publicly? Or perhaps simple modesty motivated him? Of course it's all speculation to a degree, but this tension runs throughout the interviews. Particularly following his astonishing remark from 1956: "I guess I'm the worst sort of egotist-the kind who pretends to be humble." One thing remains clear at the end of this book: there's much more to Charles Schulz than meets the eye.

One of the most interesting (and maybe revealing) passages in the book comes in the book's final interview. Gary Groth, from "Comics Journal", outright asked why Schulz takes part in such commercial ventures as the Metropolitan Life ads. Schulz dodged the question somewhat, but Groth didn't swerve. He claimed that Schulz has enough money to keep going without the licensing of his characters. Schulz replied, "Yeah, but I couldn't do all of the things that we do... If you turn that off, I'll recount some of that." And Groth inserted: "[The tape recorder is turned off and Schulz recounts some of his philanthropic work.]" Again, more evidence that things just aren't as they seem.

Anyone interested in the creator of "Peanuts" should read this book. It runs the gamut of his career from 1956 to 1997. The book's final interview runs nearly 100 pages all by itself. It covers voluminous topics. Also, "Peanuts" strips from all eras dot the pages, including some of Schulz's lesser known Saturday Evening Post comics and his first ever published drawing (of his dog from a "Ripley's Believe it or Not" strip from the 1930s).

Schulz's "Peanuts" stands as the pinnacle and, sadly, probably as the swan song of a printed medium in fast decline. It's difficult to imagine that a comic strip will ever again capture the public's imagination the way "Peanuts" did in the 20th century. This great collection of interviews allows readers a small glimpse of the person who made it all happen.

This interesting book which consist of about 16 interviews done by Charles M. Schulz (out of nearly 300) which Schulz revealed his backgrounds, motives and understanding of his works. Reading the interviews from the 1950s to the 1990s, it revealed an interesting evolution of Schulz's character, insights and his development as a cartoonist as he grow older and his "Peanut" empire got bigger. While you can't considered this as a biography, reader will definitely get a clear understanding of Schulz's personality from these interviews.

I was surprised that there was no mentioned of how Schulz and NASA got involved since Apollo 10 used Charlie Brown and Snoopy as code names. Such absolute faith in NASA probably needed further review.

Overall though, an excellent book that probably should be read by all fans of Charlie Brown and Snoopy strip.