Sunday, February 27, 1955: Phooey to you, Beethoven

Read this strip at gocomics.com.

This is one of my favorite Peanuts strips of all time.  I actually didn't know that it showed up so early in Peanuts' run; I thought it was an early 60s strip.

Lucy is rapidly developing into her full horrific powers.  She just smashed up Schroeder's bust with a <i>baseball bat</i> in his <i>own house</i>.  And yet, Schroeder was fully prepared for it.  Wow.  And Lucy still hasn't really had many strips in which she's been infatuated with Schroeder -- in fact, I think this strip does a lot to solidify that crush as strip "canon."

It's interesting to note the contrast between Lucy's anger, violence and triumph to Schroeder's plain-faced endurance.  The kid doesn't break expression the whole strip, except in panel 8, which is quite a weird look for the kid indeed.  It's not quite anger and it's not quite sadness.  There is almost something <i>pacifistic</i> about the way Schroeder handles Lucy here. It's really something.

Oh, and the strip is hilarious too.

Sunday, November 14, 1954: C'mon, forget about Beethoven for awhile

November 8-13, 1954 are missing from gocomics' archive.

Read this strip at gocomics.com.

We've seen Lucy and Schroeder fight over the piano before, but this one I think puts Lucy's case forth as sympathetically as we ever see. Panel seven in particular is surprisingly effective, almost pleading. The dramatic thrust of the strip seems to imply that it was the offer of hot chocolate in the next panel that caused Schroeder's rejection. How mundane! But what else could she offer -- er, that's suitable for a kid's strip, of course.

Schulz and Peanuts seems to suggest that Schulz got ideas and energy for the Lucy vs. Schroeder strips from his personal life with his first wife. Schulz's family disputes that he got as many ideas for strips from his relations with people that the book suggests. My own theory, which I've stated before, is that a cartoonist can't help but draw from his surroundings, that eventually the contents of your brain end up on the page whether you intend it or not, and that would seem to agree with the book's angle on Schulz's work.

This is also, I think, the first panel in which Lucy notes her own face as being pretty, a habit of hers that spreads to her dealings with other characters, especially Charlie Brown.