Trudeau & Doonesbury: A Biography: The Cartoonist Who Turned the News Into Art (book)

Garretson “Garry” Beekman Trudeau (b. 1948) is the single greatest influence on my life as a writer. There have been others who have inspired me in my work, from William Shakespeare to George Bernard Shaw to Annie Baker, and also from Charles Schulz to Harvey Pekar to Alison Bechdel. Because comic strip artists have had as much of an impact on my life as any playwright.

For example, John “Derf” Backderf just released The Dissidents, his first graphic novel since the epic Kent State (2020) and this is a work no less expansive in scope, for which its creator has been doggedly journalistic in his pursuit of historic accuracy. In this case the events are so far in the past (a century!) he has had to rely entirely – I assume – upon the written record.

I’ve read it, and like Kent State or My Friend Dahmer, it should be added to the long list of recommended (and also then probably censored) reading for high school students across the nation. It’s brilliant, it’s timely, it’s important.

But what about this Trudeau guy? He was the creator of Doonesbury, and in the late 1970s, while my preadolescent friends were getting a fantastic, exaggerated and exploitative history of Vietnam watching films like Apocalypse Now and The Deer Hunter on cable teevee, I was desperately consuming the history of the war and the entire “Me” decade by scraping up every single trade Holt, Rinehart and Winston paperback I could get my hands on at Baluk’s bookstore in Westlake.

A prized possession.

His comic strips were remarkable at the time because of the so-called political content. Sure. At that time, the comic pages were reserved for silly jokes about beleaguered husbands and shrewish wives. The war and the Nixon administration had been reserved for the editorial page, but when Trudeau was recruited (due to his work producing the strip Bull Tales for a Yale publication) to create a comic for daily syndication, he became the first to address contemporary issues – sex, drugs and the war – in the daily comics.

I mean, he wasn’t. He was preceded by Walt Kelly (Pogo) and Al Capp (Lil’ Abner) and others, but he was the first BABY BOOMER to do so, and to be so literal about it. The timing was not remarkable, it was inevitable. It could have been someone else, fortunately it was Trudeau.

Because of his wit. His very dry wit. Decades later, I would be taken to task for my work in the Ohio University paper The Post because I just wasn’t funny. But like so many other would-be college paper cartoonists, I was simply emulating the style of Doonesbury, how the punchline was usually the second to last line, only to be undercut by the deadpan reaction.

Doonesbury, October 26, 1970

And it is this deadpan, dry reaction to humor that has led people to hate and fear me in everyday conversation. And it is the same kind of dialogue I have always incorporated into my plays. This summer I read Trudeau & Doonesbury: The Cartoonist Who Turned the News Into Art by Joshua Kendall, the first authorized biography of G.B. Trudeau, and one of the first delightful things I learned was that, as a child, the future Pulitzer Prize winning cartoonist was an aspiring impresario.

At the age of eight, he waxed entrepreneurial, establishing the Acting Corporation, which marketed and produced his own plays in the family’s home.

“We transformed the basement into a makeshift theater, with bunk beds as our balcony," [Trudeau] says. "My mother had red curtains installed as a Christmas present … I jerry-rigged the most dangerous lighting board imaginable, and I almost burned the house down. I also built sets from canvas flats. Our troupe comprised relatives and neighborhood kids.

“I was a little dictator who controlled all the elements. I wrote and directed the plays, composed the music, designed the sets and costumes, oversaw makeup, props, etc." (pp. 15-16)

He was a theater producer who became a cartoonist, I was a cartoonist who became a theater producer. And this should not be a surprise. Because they have so much in common. While I had entertained notions of playwriting in high school, I had no idea how or where to begin. Creating the strip Breaking Point my sophomore year in college, I was constantly thinking about and writing dialogue and action (essentially, scripts) for a cast of fictional cartoon characters which I would then draft and have published for an audience.

Breaking Point, May 27, 1988

Trudeau did something surprising, but necessary, when he chose to take a sabbatical in 1983, stepping away from the drawing board to rethink the strip. It’s all cool that Hi and Lois, Blondie and Dagwood, and the Peanuts kids never age, but Michael, Boopsie, Mark, Zonker, B.D. and the rest were ostensibly Baby Boomers – all of whom were for some reason still undergrads in the early 1980s. That had to change if the strip was to remain relevant.

However, it was a working vacation, as Trudeau returned to his first love – the theater. He partnered with Elizabeth Swados (Runaways) to create Doonesbury: A Musical Comedy which opened at the Biltmore Theatre in late 1983. It wasn’t a sensation (Frank Rich called it “pleasant”) but even if it were, it’s intentionally dated, set squarely in that interregnum between the queasy late 1970s and the go-go 1980s. I’ve never heard of anyone else producing it. But do I have the original cast recording on vinyl? Yes, I do. Do I have it on CD? Yes, again. I am partial to the opening track (“Graduation”) and Michael’s gentle attempt to court his girlfriend J.J. (“Get Together”).

 
The most significant result of this endeavor was actually a downscale, downtown spin-off (a friendlier locale for such things) a cabaret in which to skewer Reagan era policies on a rotating basis. This was a format more in line with the daily criticism Trudeau was conducting, anyway.

Trudeau and Swados undertook a second theatrical collaboration … "Rap Master Ronnie," a one-hour "partisan revue"... which premiered at the Village Gate in the fall of 1984. Frank Rich was more kindly disposed to this venture, praising Trudeau's "ingenious lyrics, the bristling polemical wisecracks and a sparkling cast."

Trudeau (said), “With 'Doonesbury? Liz (Swados) played in my world— a mainstream Broadway musical with lovable characters. But with Rap Master Ronnie, a downtown political revue with complicated characters, I was in Lizworld. I came to prefer the latter, scrambling for money and audiences, huddling behind the bar at the Village Gate, reworking numbers on the spot, the kind of on-the-fly theater Liz was so brilliant at." (p. 215)

I can dig it. I love those things, too.

The Dissidents: Autocrats! Vigilantes! Communists! And Cartoonists! By John Derf Backderf (Abrams Books) is now available in hardcover.