Friends! Welcome to the campsite!

Author: Schulz
Translator: Wang Yan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-07-01
Features: For Snoopy, who was born in 1950, his last major turning point in life (as a dog) occurred in 1960. He bravely stood up and no longer walked on all fours without dignity. He began to think independently and was no longer the of the round-headed kid. He found that sleeping on the roof was easier to showcase his talents, and even if he fell, he could say such famous lines as, "Life is often rudely awakened from a good dream." In the next 40 years, Snoopy contentedly embraced the role of "the greatest little dog in the world." Except for extremely rare occasions, he generally believed that "dogs" were indeed unrelated to him. Yet he was also the World War I pilot, the meticulous writer, the cool guy strolling on Sunday afternoons, and a verbose lawyer, though his activities rarely went beyond the backyard, with only four clumsy birds as followers. His camping dream was no more than eating some instant white cake, but this did nothing to hinder him from going to the moon, organizing large-scale military offensives, or having a couple of drinks in a Parisian tavern. In short, apart from his deep-seated hatred for cats, he showed no trace of being a "dog," and Charlie Brown had to despair of enduring this companion's arrogance, heartlessness, and relentless forwardness. Look, even when starving at night, Snoopy still displayed a baronial dignity and pride. Over the past few decades, at least 355 million people worldwide have followed his life every day, yet it has never affected his nonchalant attitude. For 50 years, the American Charles Schulz had been drawing comic strips nonstop, idolizing Picasso, but it was still a one-sided wish to push him into the ranks of immortal artists. Moreover, for many years, this unassuming old man's greatest wish was simply to be accompanied by these little men and dogs. The daily comic strips could not carry the true pursuit of intellect and emotion. He inherited the tradition of serial columns from Balzac, Alexandre Dumas, and Charles Dickens, but apart from talent, the form and space he possessed were much smaller. On those idle afternoons, those disheartened and lonely nights, there was nothing more comforting than reading about Snoopy. You watched these little creatures' troubled childhoods, Charlie Brown grieving over football and kites, a little dog facing the eternal dilemma—he wanted to be everything but ultimately remained just a dog. Within the small frames, though the plots were ordinary and repetitive, you never grew tired of them, just as Snoopy never refused another plate of cookies. What is it that entices us? Since the late 1960s, Schulz intentionally limited Snoopy's prominence because this small beagle was deeply charming and even guided the development of comics. From Charlie Brown's frustrations, we saw the reality of life, the helplessness and mediocrity of facing the outside world, but Snoopy turned daily life into genuine adventures: a dried-up swimming pool became the English Channel, a pointed roof became a fighter jet. All the residents of Peanuts Village became supporting characters for Snoopy, their reason for existence being to highlight this unique little dog. The windbreaker-wearing Snoopy, like the blind Borges, practiced "strong imagination creates reality." Schulz preferred Charlie Brown, while Snoopy carelessly shone. Please put on your flying helmet, and we will follow our comic hero on an exciting adventure. Look at him—he truly is an amazing little dog.