cartoons

One of the things I listened to on my phone while walking through the White Mountains this weekend was a Fresh Air interview with the New Yorker cartoon editor. They talked about shifting tolerance at the magazine for racy cartoons, about where to draw the line on offensive jokes (don’t knowingly offend), and about what makes cartoons funny. In the old days, cartoons were more often jokes with the characters unwitting subjects; now characters usually deliver the punch line. Cartoons range from the literal, easy to understand, to the absurd, where there might not be much to understand. They usually poke fun at the class of people likely to read The New Yorker.

At least that’s what I remember. The editor didn’t talk much about making cartoons, except to say that his most famous – in which a suited exec says into a phone, “No, Thursday’s out. How about never – is never good for you?” – came mostly from an exchange he’d had himself. Of creating from whole cloth or drawing from life, the latter seems the easier to me.

Many years ago, my sister, I think inspired by Roz Chast, tried to draw a few cartoons. I remember one in a deli, and one showing several different options for wrapping a California-style burrito. I thought they were pretty funny. In the interview, the editor mentioned a Seinfeld episode in which Elaine, frustrated at a New Yorker cartoon she couldn’t understand, tries to write one herself – something about a pig at a complaints department complaining he feels fat. The editor explained it wasn’t technically a joke, although I didn’t understand why.

Anyway, here’s my attempt.