Here Comes Snoopy, and Here Comes Fun

While I am fond of all the characters who populate Peanuts, the classic comic strip created by Charles Schulz, my favorite would have to be Snoopy, that cheerful, imaginative beagle with dreams of novelist glory that are frequently thwarted by unfeeling editors. Even though Snoopy didn’t become a writer until later in the series, it was a no-brainer for me to scoop up the 1950s-era collection Here Comes Snoopy when I spotted it at our local city-wide book sale. Like Here Comes Charlie Brown!, this volume is just over a hundred pages long and is drawn from a larger collection, this one called Snoopy Vol. 1. Unlike that book, it is unified by the fact that the title character appears in every single strip.

There’s actually quite a lot of overlap between the two books, with a majority of the Snoopy strips from that book showing up in this one. This is very early Snoopy, so he looks a bit more like a regular dog and a bit less than the very distinct canine found in so many Christmas ornaments, plush toys and Minnesota public art statues. Still, we definitely get the sense that Snoopy is not quite an ordinary dog. There’s something a little unusual about him, whether he’s spending his days imitating Charlie Brown and his friends or sobbing into Schroeder’s shoulder after a particularly moving piano performance.

While Here Comes Charlie Brown! is pretty much just a hodgepodge of early strips, Here Comes Snoopy most definitely belongs to the beagle. Mostly, we see him either on his own or interacting with Charlie Brown, Linus or Lucy. Other characters do make the occasional appearance; Schroeder appears in several strips, and we see Violet and Patty, though neither of them says much. Each strip contains four panels, though some are square, some are ovals and some have no outline at all.

Charlie Brown is well aware that his dog is an oddball, and sometimes that seems to frustrate him. More than once, we see him offering to teach Snoopy a simple skill, only to have him demonstrate that he is far too advanced for that sort of lesson. It annoys him that Snoopy is such a know-it-all. He also is irritated by Snoopy’s constant shedding. Nonetheless, he loves showing his dog off to everybody, and it’s apparent that Snoopy brings him just as much happiness as he does frustration.

While Linus is generally a gentle, philosophical soul, he and Snoopy have always had a somewhat antagonistic relationship because of Snoopy’s tendency to steal his security blanket. Hence, most of the encounters we see between the two are rather tense. Sometimes we see Snoopy clutching his blanket in his teeth and zooming off while Linus holds on for dear life. At other times, Snoopy tries to sneak up on Linus and give him a good scare, but Linus always seems to be one step ahead of him and retaliates with something even more ferocious that sends Snoopy streaking off in terror.

Lucy doesn’t have as much to do with Snoopy as her brother does, but generally their meetings are more cordial. While Snoopy enjoys poking fun at her, he also appreciates the affection she lavishes on him, even though he thinks a tasty treat would be a more exciting gesture than a pat on the head. Lucy, like Patty and Violet, generally approves of Snoopy, and he sometimes brings out her softer side, though she’s not afraid to confront him when she thinks he is being ridiculous.

It’s a little strange to have an entire book full of Snoopy cartoons and not see Woodstock once, but Snoopy’s feathered pal didn’t join the strip until 1967 (and didn’t get a name until 1970). Snoopy is a solitary creature here. Not only do we not see Woodstock, we don’t see his doghouse either, which makes him feel much less like the king of his domain. He’s more of a perpetual tagalong. Some days, he seems to revel in his status, but at other times, he wishes that he were human and even goes so far as to say that he would avoid dogs if he hadn’t been born one, since he finds canines fundamentally distasteful. His feelings seem to fluctuate.

Mostly, though, he appears pretty happy with his lot. He has half a dozen ready playmates, a steady supply of food and the freedom to indulge his imaginative whims. In one of the strips, Charlie Brown and Shermy walk up to Snoopy and, finding him looking despondent under a thick snowfall, tell him, “Be of good cheer.” This amuses me because my brother and I once had a conversation about the Christmas song It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year and how neither of us could ever remember being told, “Be of good cheer.” But Snoopy receives this very instruction. It occurs within the first few pages of the book, so if you’re reading it, you might consider it an instruction to the reader as well, but hardly a necessary one. Cheer can hardly be avoided when Snoopy is coming your way.