Ink Stud Fever

Rare, valuable confirmation of Jon's profession! and...
Meta-self-loathing!

Daniel Clowes once compared the compliment of being a generation's most famous underground cartoonist to being "the world's most famous badminton player." Jim Davis comes right out and depicts cartoonists as universally despised. The gag is no more explicit than "everyone hates cartoonists," so one can only speculate on the precise reasons for Liz's folks' panic. Given the personal problems plaguing a vast percentage of comics artists, perhaps those fears are not unfounded. Not without historical precedent are: O.C.D., chronic depression, impotence, sex mania, alcoholism, BDSM, agoraphobia, womanizing, domestic violence, megalomania, schizophrenia, L.S.D. damage, antisemitism, Libertarianism, Objectivism, perpetual misery, religious zealotry, intense assholism, insanity. More of these lives have ended in suicide, self-destruction, and sorrow than seems statistically reasonable.

The other roles in our world under harsh criticism today are children and parents, which constitutes the entire population. Liz's parents are unable/ unwilling to conceal their disappointment in their daughter's lifestyle choices. Liz, being a strong-willed professional woman of cool, detached demeanor, may or may not care that her parents have expectations of Liz that differ from her own. The Wilsons' disapproval takes the form of a (feigned?) threat to their physical health, forcing Liz to express concern even if she has seen past her boyfriend's social caste and her parents' prejudice.

The parent who expects more of their child than general good health, ability to function in adult society, and the pursuit of personal happiness is setting everyone up for a Catch-22 of doom. The inevitably imperfect offspring can never feel adequate and the tyrant parent will never be satisfied. This cycle begins at birth and does not end until the family tree is burnt to the ground.

One strategy for potential liberation from this loop is through acts of rebellion. Not without its own associated damages, this kind of resistance, conscious or unconscious, still binds one to the wheel: decades into adulthood you're still just acting out against your parents. The more they don't want you to date a cartoonist, the more you may feel compelled to date a cartoonist.

Compare and contrast to Liz's BF having this conversation with his mother. So long has Jon been, well, Jon, that the smallest measure of triumph in his life causes her mind to snap and body to shut down. Note the parallel, though: Jon and Liz's announcements both cause physical reactions and near-suffocation in their parents. Whether overjoyed or displeased, we'll be the death of them.

Also, hmm, Betty Wilson... Betty Wilson... ah, Betty Wilson.

They Shoot Garfields, Don't They?

Jon's father is such a dyed-in-the-wool hayseed that he can only think of women as breeding stock, and on top of that, absurdly evaluates them using livestock-judging criteria. That's solid enough, but elevating the primary gag is Jon's bored here-we-go-again response. In panel 2, he suddenly remembers his father is insane. His expression in the remaining panels is that of a man disappointed: with his father, and with himself, for thinking for those fleeting seconds that this conversation could be normal. He was calling his father for approval, because he has finally achieved modest success in a basic area of human life, and all he got was a white slavery joke.

Garfield, too, lets us know he understands the joke of the senior Arbuckle's questions. But since he has no vested interest in Jon's dad's reaction, Garfield instead responds to Jon's weary disgust. And it makes him happy. These things matter to cats.

Mother, Jugs and Spuds

Jon's mother, while oblivious or obstinate on most topics, responds with such exaggeration to news of Jon's steady dating that the reader is nudged to remember exactly how monumental a development it is. By keeping Mom off-stage, we're allowed to read the entire spectrum of possible responses, from "I am happy; finally my son will begin a family" to "the bottom has dropped out of my reality". Because all that we know of Mrs. Arbuckle's reaction is that her circuit breakers have been tripped - she could be shocked, delighted, etc. - perhaps the reactions we personally migrate towards can tell us something about our own responses to Jon, or even about our relationships with our own parents and how we feel they view us.

Another dimension to Jon's mother's surprise is underlined by the secondary joke that the Arbuckle family is so cornpone that there is always a big helping of mashed potatoes in the immediate vicinity. The generational and cultural gap between Jon and his family likely means Jon's prolonged bachelorhood has seemed even more extreme to his rural parents.

Garfield of course has zero interest in either Jon's love life, or Arbuckle family business, and latches onto one tangential idea for his own personal punchline, "I've had dreams like that." It's a double-barrel joke, telling us A) that the Arbuckles are so boring/ Garfield so self-absorbed that he's not even paying attention, B) Garfield's gluttony extends into a deeply confused place in his subconscious. It's one thing to have a wish-fulfillment dream about diving into a swimming pool of mashed potatoes, or eating your way out of a cave made of mashed potatoes... but fainting unconscious into food means that in the dream you're not even eating, but being covered, smothered, consumed. This wiggles past defiant indulgence, or even food addiction and into fetishism that will take expert psychologists with more serious training than I to untangle.

Optional Reader Activity Worksheet: Call your mother and inform her that Jon Arbuckle has a girlfriend. What is her response? Into what food does she pass out? Will real cats even eat potatoes?