The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, Chapter Nine: "The Billionaire of Dismal Downs"

Interesting installment here--first, because it's the lone part of the series that isn't really an adventure story (well…"Of Ducks Dimes and Destinies" too, I suppose, but that's still more action-oriented than this). And second, because it really showcases the contradictions and incoherencies that pop up in Rosa's conception of Scrooge. For instance, the beginning starts off with a letter to his family detailing what went down after he struck it rich:


Scrooge Mcduck, Friend of the Working Man? It's really difficult to know what to make of this. Are we supposed to not think that him taking fifty percent of the profits is excessive? It seems excessive to me. But the guy first sure seems happy enough with the deal, so maybe it's not supposed to be. And he's clearly meant to be enforcing this "value of hard work" thing with the second guy--but really, who's fooling whom? This is the same Scrooge who employs his nephew on dangerous jobs for thirty cents an hour and generally--especially in Rosa's conception--treats him quite poorly. We may have to ask ourselves what "making it square" is actually supposed to mean. We may also suggest that Rosa's sorta trying to have it both ways: on the one hand, integrity! Value of hard work! Et cetera!; on the other, jokes about extreme stinginess! These two things coexist in his work, but they really don't mesh well.

Also, not to get all Marxist on your asses (oh, whom am I kidding?), but the fact is, Scrooge, the present-day version, is very definitely--because if he weren't, there would be no way he could compete with the rest of the business world, let alone come out on top of them all--an employer and facilitator of alienated labor: the idea being, basically, that industrial capitalism requires that work be broken down and ruthlessly rationalized; whereas before, a worker would be involved in all stages of production and thus have a sense of the meaning of his or her work, that is no longer possible, and he or she becomes alienated from the process; disconnected from any actual sense of value (see also: Taylorism). You may not be a raving pinko like me, and thus you may argue about the effects of this and the extent to which they're pernicious, but you really can't argue that Frederick Winslow Taylor didn't have a huge influence on business, and that assembly lines of the sort pioneered by Henry Ford didn't substantially alter the relationship of laborers to their work. The point being, this is all pretty much the exact opposite of the sort of thing Scrooge is encouraging--this sort of rugged-individualist, all-on-your-own thing--in the above panels, but it's exactly what his empire is going to consist of. It would be difficult to argue that the very fact of this empire doesn't by necessity make him far more of a bastard than the guy looking to get rich on the backs of broke prospectors. That's the logical conclusion of Rosa's writing here, at any rate.

A counterpoint you could make is that this isn't really the right way to think about it: sure, in the real world Scrooge would have to be a right bastard to get by, but this is fantasy, and as such, in some symbolic way, the character is beyond that--he is a platonic ideal that couldn't exist in the real world, and that unresolved and unresolvable tension is what makes him such a great character. Which is fair enough, and I'd probably agree with you in a lot of contexts, but here Rosa is really trying to ground the character in this here "real world," with, naturally, limited success--as fascinating as it is to watch him make the effort. This is one aspect of his L&T sensibility that is simply incompatible with the character.



Or, to move away from the world of abstractions, take this bit. Just look at that ungrateful rabble, blasting him with vegetables for no reason other than their petty jealousy! Jerks!



...but oh no wait Scrooge is a jerk. At least, it seems to me that we're meant to take Fergus's criticism here seriously. So they hate him 'cause he's rich but no they don't; they hate him because he's an asshole. Once again, we see substantial tension between Scrooge the Exemplar of Gold Old-Fashioned Hard Work whom people hate because they suck and Scrooge the jerk whom people hate because he sucks.



Well, never mind that. This is an appropriately somber moment. Also--who knows if you can see it--we get exact dates for Downy--1840-1897. The fact that she was comparatively young adds a welcome touch of realism to the saga. Note that Jake also apparently died sometime between the framing sequence in "Dreamtime Duck" and this.



The bulk of the story consists of these here Highland Games. This is Scottie McTerrier from "The Old Castle's Secret," depicted here as a hobbit. Given that (spoiler!) it turns out that he's dead at the time of that later story, he too died pretty young.



So we get this series of gags where Scrooge completes the events in inappropriate ways and thereby loses. There's certainly something to the idea that his inability to play by the local rules is indicative of his larger embrace of multinational capitalism…



…though the story muddies the waters a bit by including this one, where Scrooge fails through no fault of his own.

Also: the judges are Jacobites.  Please make a note of it.



And this! I would hate to think that my mind is insufficiently dirty, but I'm comin' up blank on the right conclusion here. If you can help, please do. Also note that the limerick appears to be about a would-be rape, surely a first and last for Disney comics, for which we can all be grateful. Observant observers will note that he's also reciting this at the end of "Quest for Kalevala" (almost--in that later version it's "sourdough" rather than "gold miner," probably a better choice of words).



So he decides to leave--and his reasoning there is certainly impeccable. That's exactly who he is. That little parenthetical aside really adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the scene.



Regrettably, although Scrooge's sisters are of course present, we don't actually see a lot of their personalities here. If all you read was this story, you wouldn't even know that Hortense was supposed to be the bad-tempered one. This is a pretty funny bit, however.



Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood's woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fear no more.

I think this is handled excellently (the fact that it's apparently based on a movie I haven't seen is neither here nor there). Very moving--I just hope that Fergus isn't damned to play eternal golf with his forebears. That would be a terrible fate indeed.

Tomorrow, the inexorable march of progress continues with "The Invader of Fort Duckburg."

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