Calvin and Hobbes (1985-1995) is essential reading
Photo courtesy of Pigby/Wikimedia Commons
Calvin and Hobbes (1985-1995) is a comic series that captures childhood like no other, in a way that both children and adults can enjoy.
Anyone who has visited The Lamron office since the beginning of the semester has grown accustomed to the picture of a little boy in a ski helmet sitting on a rock with his tiger friend that takes up the corner of my desk. More than just simple drawings, these two are not only a cornerstone of my childhood, but a treasured duo that remains in the hearts of many despite having gone out of print 30 years ago.
Calvin and Hobbes (1985-1995), for those who have not yet experienced the joy of their company, is a comic strip by Bill Watterson that was first syndicated in 1985. Exploring the complex relationship between six-year-old Calvin and his stuffed tiger Hobbes, the strip became an almost instant success in its first year, growing from syndication in just 35 newspapers initially to 250 by the year’s end, according to the Calvin and Hobbes Wiki.
As a long-time reader of Calvin and Hobbes (1985-1995) collections, the reasons for this rapid growth are clear to me: the strip manages to capture in equal measure the wonderment of childhood and the cynicism of adulthood in a way that rings true to readers of all ages.
The crux of the strip is Calvin and Hobbes’s friendship, but what really gives it depth is how it blurs the lines between reality and Calvin’s vivid imagination. Hobbes is truly alive when he is alone with Calvin, characterized by an insatiable craving for tuna, a rather calm and sensitive disposition that perfectly contrasts Calvin’s chaotic nature, and a mature wit and awareness that really makes the reader wonder.
Hobbes’s actions do in fact have real-life consequences in the strip, even though when others are around he appears to be a lifeless stuffed tiger. Calvin, regardless of who is around, treats Hobbes as a real person by talking to him, ordering for him at restaurants, asking him to eat the bullies at school. Growing up, Hobbes was as real to me as he was to Calvin, and I never understood why the other characters in the strip—Calvin’s parents, his frenemy Susie, his teacher, etc— could never see him the way Calvin and I did.
But it is precisely this contrast that makes both of them so loveable; we as readers are welcomed into the colorful world of their imagination, and yet we also get a glimpse of who they are in reality. Watterson puts his readers in a position that negotiates both Calvin’s interior and exterior worlds, allowing us to indulge our inner child without losing the sensibility of adulthood.
The strips are typically set in Calvin’s home, school, or around the neighborhood, turning the most mundane moments into an epic adventure with his best friend. A cardboard box becomes a time machine or a spaceship, the hills in the backyard become the dunes on an alien planet, and Calvin has the power to turn himself into whatever he wishes—a soldier, a spaceman, a dinosaur, or even a tiger like Hobbes.
Watterson often uses the pair to explore more adult issues, such as politics, climate change, mortality, and conflict. Calvin and Hobbes’s use of vocabulary and apparent understanding of complex concepts that are far beyond the capacity of an actual six-year-old or a stuffed tiger constitute the basis of much of the strip’s humor, usually followed up with the punchline that they actually do not understand as much as they let on. I might add that for those of us who are college age and perpetually feel like kids just cosplaying as adults, this dynamic is unbelievably affirming.
The strip itself—the art, the writing, the crafting of its characters—reflects a rare kind of artistic integrity that Watterson refused to compromise. In his time producing the strip, he fought tirelessly to maintain creative control, resisting Universal Press Syndicate’s attempts to merchandize his characters without his consent and pushing for the revision of the Sunday strip format to allow himself more freedom. Ultimately, Watterson chose to end the strip after its 10th year for “fear…[of a] decline in quality,” according to the Calvin and Hobbes Wiki, making the deliberate choice to prioritize the high standard he set for the strip over financial gain.
In Calvin and Hobbes’s final strip, the two are outside admiring a fresh coat of snow in the yard— “A fresh, clean start,” as Calvin puts it. Watterson puts the perfect end to his characters’ adventures together, leaving his readers with the essence of his timeless masterpiece: “It’s a magical world, Hobbes, ol’ buddy…Let’s go exploring!”