"The Riddle of the Red Hat"

 Here's a story I should probably have done some time ago.  The reason I didn't was probably because it wasn't clear how much there was to say about it.  Let's face it: it's a Barks story about Mickey.  That right there is the only reason anyone's any more interested in it than ANY old random Mickey story by Dick Moores or whomever.  It is at least a little interesting in terms of Barks' career, just because it's a rather early adventure story (if you want to call it that--it's only eleven pages, but tonally, it's definitely not the equivalent of ten-pager), so you can see his development.  Well, somewhat.  The fact that he was self-consciously using characters he usually wouldn't make it a little hard to place within the contet of his work.  Still, at the very least, an interesting footnote.

Also, it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: it is in no way Barks' fault that red hats nowadays are associated with American nazis.  I wish they weren't, though!

(Side note: I have this thing where I'm always vaguely surprised to remember that Barks' and Gottfredson's careers weren't exactly concurrent.  Not that he didn't write (or at least draw, thanks to Walsh coming on board) worthwhile stories later in his career, but his most celebrated work comes from the thirties and early forties.  By the fifties, while Barks was still going on all cyllinders, most of his career, at least as a crafter of actual stories, was behind him.  This is an early story for Barks, but at Gottfredson at the time was doing non-household-name stories like "Billy the Mouse."  Perhaps this should lead into a longer discussion of inconsistent perceptions of time, but as it happens, all it gets is this parenthetical.)

I think this is the first story I've written about where this happened, but Western had this very occasional thing they would do where they would print the beginning or last page of a story on the inner front or back, and since, for whatever reason, those pages had different color requirements, the story would dip into black and white, or red and white here.  I dunno; just a little curiosity.  But back in the day I liked it because it was a novelty and it seemed as though they were really, really cramming as much story as they could into the book.  It's probably more evidence of slapdashery and more planning, but hey.

We get some Mickey/Minnie interaction here, and it would be tempting to try to compare it to Gottfredson, but I don't know that there's enough to draw very strong  conclusions.  It looks to be as though he's more or less trying to mimic Gottfredson in comic book format, but I could be wrong about that--how familiar was he with Gottfredson's work at the time?  At any rate, it does fit rather seemlessly into the era.  Mickey's "you look exactly like a comic valentine!" seems appropriate for the younger version of the character, and more childish than consciously sexist.

Well...okay.  Maybe a little sexist!  But what the hey.  Clarabelle just makes this one brief appearance, but hey--Barks drew her!  That's fun enough by itself.

This is a tale of subterfuge and legerdemain and WHOA.  There's...a character.  Can we associate this with Barks' tendency, especially in his late career, to draw distinctive one-shot duck characters?  I mean, credit where do; she is REALLY sinister and distinctive-looking.  Barks may not have cared too much about mice, but he was a professional who put his back into it.

It's just too bad that she never even gets a name, and is nevermore seen or alluded to after this scene.  It may be just because the story is so short; you can easily imagine a longer, twistier, "Dangerous-Disguise"-esque tale that, alas, never was.  

Mickey, you fool.  He does not, at any rate, have quite the chummy relationship with the cops that he later would.

Can we see echoes, here, of the Scroogian treasure hunts of the future--this jewel with more to it than meets the eye?  Who's going to stop us?  I should also allow, though, that thinking too hard about the plot here, such as it is, won't get you much of anywhere.  This whole thing is basically running on vibes.  Which is fine, if you can make it work, as Barks generally does.

Also, it's not given all that much space (again, too dang short), but the story does in places, as here, capture a kind of uneasy, noirish atmosphere.  If he hadn't had something else that he preferred, Barks presumably easily COULD have become a notable mouseman.  Better than Gottfredson?  I don't think that's really answerable, and besides, the fact that Barks was working in a different area--books rather than strips--may make the comparison moot.

But also, fergawdsake, who do I think I'm kidding?  Trying to avoid expressing an opinion, like some kinda politician.  Bleh to that!  I can cop to my prejudices!  YES, I think Barks would've out-Gottfredson'd Gottfredson had that he put his mind to it!  I love Gottfredson too (I daresay the Fantagraphics Gottfredson MM collections are my most-treasured comics collections, with the possible exception of the Fantagraphics Segar volumes) , but, well, there's a reason it ain't called Mouse Comics Revue.

Yeah, people talk about Goofy's relative intelligence, and maybe it's more that his mind works differently than that he's stupid per se.  I hate to be a moderate here, but I think the truth is really somewhere between the two poles.  It can be a bit of both!  Nevertheless: "The guy that lives in there couldn't be a crook! He must be a milyonaire[sic]!" has to be the stupidest thing he's ever said--that ANY Disney character's ever said.  Sorry; the opportunity to insert a little class warfare into this entry was just too much for me to resist.

Now!  Meet the real villain of the piece!  It's...THIS guy!  Tremble!  Considering how memorable that mouse-woman was, in spite of her limited screentime, it's hard not to see this as a bit of a disappointment.  In comics yet to come, Pete might be working for the Blot, but here, it's just Mr. Nondescript.

I question the efficiency of shooting through the door like that, but I must commend Pete on his precision, at any rate.

I also must likewise commend this denouement, which is pleasingly clever.  A moment's delay would have revealed Goofy for the incompetent doofus he is, but Mickey instantly comes up with an effective plan to parlay "the poleece..." into a W.  Yeah!

Who woulda thought, indeed.  The lesson we can take from this is: even rich people can be criminals.  Incredible but true.

But jeez, man, this ending...okay okay, you can perhaps argue in a gender-netural way that it's better for neither partner to wear clothes that the other finds egregiously hideous--but this seems more like straightforward, unreflective sexism.  Mickey knows best.

Regardless, "The Riddle of the Red Hat" remains an extremely competent story, if not as conducive to analysis as some.