Well no, but also yes.
Well, this is something that I've thought of doing for a while. Calvin and Hobbes was one of the first pieces of art that I really connected to as a kid. I mean, I liked Harry Potter and I enjoyed Star Wars, but I never derived very much meaning from them. They were entertaining, had intriguing stories, taught some lessons, and maybe even contained a modicum of commentary on the human condition. I had been exposed to capital-a Art before, and knew enough about the world to understand that adults thought that Art was important and valuable. I didn't really get it, but there was also a lot I didn't get about the adult-world, like why they liked just sitting around talking so much, and why they drank things that smelled like something I would find under the sink. I knew that they put Art in museums so that adults could go look at it and...well supposedly they would get something out of it?
At school, I learned how the world worked by teachers telling me how it worked. I was told it was important that I spell things right, although I didn't really understand why, I mean, you can understnad me fine, rihgt? There was a correct answer for math problems, and volcanos never retracted their magma after they had erupted. These were all components in a set of information and rules that was handed to me and that I was told to put somewhere I wouldn't forget. It was all very direct. Even when I fell off the swings, or was mean to someone and then felt remorse, I was learning in a direct fashion.
Reading Calvin and Hobbes was, in my memory, the very first time I understood something about the world in an indirect manner; the first time I glimpsed what adults may be getting out of Art. The moral of the story wasn't written on the page, but after reading panel after panel I knew that I saw the world in a different way. I knew that I had learned something about myself and the species that I am a part of from reading the comic, and it wasn't that the human body has 206 bones or that Peru is adjacent to Bolivia. As a kid, most things in life are very black and white; there's a correct answer and an incorrect answer; there is a clear line between right and wrong; if you're good Santa will bring you presents, if you're bad you'll get coal.
I think that every kid has the same question when first reading Calvin and Hobbes: is the tiger real? This is of course referring to Hobbes, who appears in the comics as occupying some sort of existential duality between being a stuffed animal and an actual tiger. In the majority of the panels, the character of Hobbes is drawn as a real, living, emotion-filled, anthropomorphized, tiger. However, in any panel occupied by more than just the characters of Calvin and Hobbes, he reverts to a simple, limp, stuffed toy. As much as I read, Bill Watterson never gave me a straight answer on this question, which forced me to occupy a grey area I was unfamiliar with as a child. Hobbes was both real and not real. That non-answer compelled me to consider how others might view the world differently than I did; it made me think more deeply about myself and how I saw the world. It required me to be comfortable asking questions that may not have simple answers. I find it very amusing that a comic strip is what I credit with teaching me about the nuances of growing up, the difference between adulthood vs. childhood, and how your vision can shape your world.
Starting tomorrow, I'm going to try to go through one strip of Calvin and Hobbes a day, maybe more, and write a few sentences of commentary on it, reflect on any memories that come up related to it, or how it relates to my life and the world today. We'll see how long it lasts.
At school, I learned how the world worked by teachers telling me how it worked. I was told it was important that I spell things right, although I didn't really understand why, I mean, you can understnad me fine, rihgt? There was a correct answer for math problems, and volcanos never retracted their magma after they had erupted. These were all components in a set of information and rules that was handed to me and that I was told to put somewhere I wouldn't forget. It was all very direct. Even when I fell off the swings, or was mean to someone and then felt remorse, I was learning in a direct fashion.
Reading Calvin and Hobbes was, in my memory, the very first time I understood something about the world in an indirect manner; the first time I glimpsed what adults may be getting out of Art. The moral of the story wasn't written on the page, but after reading panel after panel I knew that I saw the world in a different way. I knew that I had learned something about myself and the species that I am a part of from reading the comic, and it wasn't that the human body has 206 bones or that Peru is adjacent to Bolivia. As a kid, most things in life are very black and white; there's a correct answer and an incorrect answer; there is a clear line between right and wrong; if you're good Santa will bring you presents, if you're bad you'll get coal.
I think that every kid has the same question when first reading Calvin and Hobbes: is the tiger real? This is of course referring to Hobbes, who appears in the comics as occupying some sort of existential duality between being a stuffed animal and an actual tiger. In the majority of the panels, the character of Hobbes is drawn as a real, living, emotion-filled, anthropomorphized, tiger. However, in any panel occupied by more than just the characters of Calvin and Hobbes, he reverts to a simple, limp, stuffed toy. As much as I read, Bill Watterson never gave me a straight answer on this question, which forced me to occupy a grey area I was unfamiliar with as a child. Hobbes was both real and not real. That non-answer compelled me to consider how others might view the world differently than I did; it made me think more deeply about myself and how I saw the world. It required me to be comfortable asking questions that may not have simple answers. I find it very amusing that a comic strip is what I credit with teaching me about the nuances of growing up, the difference between adulthood vs. childhood, and how your vision can shape your world.
Starting tomorrow, I'm going to try to go through one strip of Calvin and Hobbes a day, maybe more, and write a few sentences of commentary on it, reflect on any memories that come up related to it, or how it relates to my life and the world today. We'll see how long it lasts.
Well, I don't know much about civil engineering, but I know you are certainly a very good writer! Looking forward to more reflections!
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