Review by Win Wiacek
As an odd adjunct of being a nation perpetually embroiled in class struggle, Britain has found countless ways to apologize and humanise its blue-blooded oppressors. Here’s one of the most successful: a masterpiece of charming fraternity that undermines any anti-privilege message even as it delights and subverts. But which side is our star on, and does it even matter in the end?
Designed and mostly written by Dudley D. Watkins (1907-1969), and debuting in the very first issue of The Beano in 1938, was the only decent posh boy the UK ever produced. Marmaduke, Earl of Bunkerton is a bred-in-the-bone blue-blooded subversive and instinctive rebel anarchist… who can never decide which side of the class war and divide he and his ever-evolving pals were actually on.
Clad in Eton school uniform complete with top hat and umbrella, the little lord loathes the pointless tedium of his grand estate and constant pressure of his impending position and status. Thus, at every opportunity he bunks off, dodging pitiless and so-proper Aunt Matilda (who gradually mellowed into genteelly eccentric “Aunt Mat”) and the haughty, stiff-necked and smugly snobbish Bunkerton Castle staff to cavort and revel with the poor waifs from Ash Can Council School – thus dubbed “The Ash Can Alley kids”. Marmaduke even disguises himself as one of them to indulge in his wayward capers, and fully embraced and leaned into their barbed nickname for him – “Lord Snooty”.
Oh, what larks!! It’s like an Edwardian novel of swapped lives or The Prince and the Pauper played for laughs, with this lovable, amiable toff strongly on the side of the savvy proletariat. However, although he just wanted to have fun, there were always dangerous and unwelcome poor kids to fight in the insalubrious form of the bullies of the Gasworks Gang.
The early days have the kids mostly dodging onerous duties, tutorial tribulations and posh expectations, although everybody from every societal stratum has problems with a police force depicted as officious, interfering, venal and spiteful, and usually cast as true villains. Wish-fulfilment kid power is at its most delightful during the World War II years.
A big bunch of these strips make up a majority of this book and show Watkins at his most imaginative. A tireless and prolific illustrator equally adept at comedy, adventure, educational and drama storytelling, his style more than any other’s shaped the postwar look and form of Scottish publishing giant D.C. Thomson’s comics output.
Dropped after the war, Snooty returned in 1950 with a new supporting cast, partially comprised of past Beano stars in need of a fresh gig, as explained in an accompanying feature. A section of 1950s material observes modernity and loss of empire in smart, witty strips about Christmas, prefab houses, public transport, April Fool’s stunts, homelessness, penury and death duties, rationing, recycling and animals, lots and lots of animals. Finally, in the 1960s Watkins and his aides investigate increased prosperity, theft, fraud and mis-selling, shopping, the weather, Screwtop’s inventions, entertainment, proper food, etiquette and social mobility and the proper use of cannon fire.
This luxurious hardback commemorative celebration is exuberantly joyous in tracing one of comics most bizarre and seditious stars and is a strong – almost overwhelming – argument for a bigger and more comprehensive curated collection. Conversely it’s also a huge cartoon chronicle stuffed with strips that will make you collapse in mirth. Probably both. At least you don’t have to pick a side but just buy a book.
