Saving Calvin and Hobbes

Sometimes a trip down memory lane will make you want to jump off a bridge. I have a special place in my heart for Bill Watterson, creator of the eternally entertaining "Calvin and Hobbes" comic strip, since he enabled my childhood memories to include hours spent wishing I too had a stuffed tiger.

When Watterson retired and vanished into a life of seclusion, he took a piece of my heart with him. I lived for the wild-eyed look Calvin got when he was pretending to be a Tyrannosaurus Rex stomping through a village, the endless games of "Calvinball" and the philosophical ponderings of the aptly-named Hobbes as he and Calvin hurtled off a snow-covered cliff on a sled. I resigned myself to re-reads of The Revenge of the Baby-Sat, but accepted Watterson's wishes to end Calvin and Hobbes on a high point, before commercialization and mass consumerism ruined the child-like simplicity of the strip. Then I started seeing peeing Calvins as car decals.

With this month's release of The Complete Calvin and Hobbes, a three-volume collection of all the cartoons ever published, I fear for my favorite duo as, once again, they face a culture that seems to know nothing of the sanctity of art (since anyone who has seen the full-color panels in various Calvin anthologies can understand Watterson's work truly qualifies as art). The history of "Calvin and Hobbes" is, unfortunately, a typical example of the lack of restraint people exhibit, with little or no regard to the person behind the celebrity.

Watterson endlessly campaigned against the commercialization of his comic, refusing to allow his characters to be used in television shows, bumper stickers, advertisements and other merchandise. The fact that people not only expressly went against his wishes but also plagiarized his artwork for their personal monetary gain fills me (and many other Calvin fans, I'm sure) with the deepest disgust.

Watterson is not the only one whose artistic work -- be it film, canvas, pen and ink or song -- has been cheapened by the capitalistic consumer mentality of today. Celebrities from Nicole Kidman to Barbara Streisand have brought lawsuits on members of the paparazzi for selling their images to tabloids. J.K. Rowling's Web site addressed numerous unsubstantiated rumors "leaked" to the media before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince had even been completed. Andy Warhol's iconic pop-art banana has been used on everything from t-shirts at Urban Outfitters to album covers.

The question becomes not when, but if it will end. There's a saying that one bad apple can spoil the bunch, but the "bad apples" who sell plagiarized art in any form are only encouraged to do so because there is a market for their work. We live in a world where buying an imitation Fendi purse is socially acceptable and selling a picture of your newborn child is regarded with seldom more than a general eye-roll, but it doesn't have to be that way.

Our generation needs to take a stand against the selfish disregard for the sanctity of art. Don't buy that Calvin decal and please wait until the newest Harry Potter book comes out to learn the ending. Art must be preserved so our children can enjoy Calvin's innocent snowball fights with Susie at the same level we did without the intrusive mental image of a peeing Calvin decal stuck on someone's car window. If nothing else, we owe it to artists like Watterson who have given us so much enjoyment from their work to honor their wishes and leave them (and their cartoon families) alone.