"Calvin and Hobbes" produces laughs, tears and the occasional existential crisis
I was about six years old when I read my first "Calvin and Hobbes" strip. Starring Calvin, an energetic and wise 6-year-old and his sarcastic literary foil, the anthropomorphic tiger Hobbes, the cartoon was placed in my lap by my parents, looking to encourage me to read anything and everything.
(OK, mom and dad. You win — I like reading.)
As a young kid I was captivated by Calvin and his many adventures. In many ways, I saw myself in Calvin: a young boy who loved to play outside and use his imagination. I would spend hours flipping through the pages of my books, laughing as Calvin and his buddy Hobbes would plot to throw water balloons at his peers or battle the Mutant Killer Snow Goons. It was a fun strip with simple concepts, and that’s why I loved it.
Except, it wasn’t very simple at all, and that’s why I still love it to this day. Bill Watterson used his comic platform to compose commentaries on the world. Often the daily strips depicted Calvin flying down hills on his toboggan, questioning why our society is the way that it is.
Calvin and Hobbes really does have a strip for young and old, and sometimes a strip will capture both audiences in one. One of my favorites involves Calvin finding an injured baby raccoon in the woods behind his house. As he runs off to tell his mom, Hobbes says that he hopes she can help the animal. Calvin replies, “Of course she can! You don’t get to be a mom if you can’t fix everything just right.”
This captures how I saw my parents when I was young. There wasn’t a problem in the world that they couldn’t solve. But as we grow up, we realize that there are some things that even your mom can’t fix.
Watterson used his comic to help ease kids into the real world, and the raccoon story arc is the prime example. Like Calvin, this was one of my first real experiences with loss, and I had the same questions he did. Why did the raccoon have to die? He didn’t do anything wrong. Death is confusing and unfair and as kids we often just don’t understand.
The story ends with a brief explanation: death is just as much a part of life as living itself, and though we may not understand, we have to do the best we can with the knowledge we have. And though I may not have fully understood the first time I read it, I certainly do now.
So thank you Mom and Dad, for encouraging me to read. Thank you Mr. Watterson, for creating a work of art that I have cherished for over a decade. And thank you Calvin, for making growing up in an unfair world just a little bit easier.