Meet Robert Crumb: The Enigmatic Cartoonist
Ah, Robert Crumb, or “R Crumb” as he insists on signing himself, is like that eccentric uncle at family gatherings who both fascinates and appalls you. Dan Nadel’s meticulously detailed biography provides all the essential information about this modern cartooning titan and his peculiar antics. Spoiler alert: It’s not just about drawing weird characters.
Once upon a time, the mere “mainstream” knew him mostly for his iconic cover art of the Janis Joplin album Cheap Thrills, complete with elongated stoners and the ever-urgent slogan “Keep on Truckin’.” Like a groovy octopus, his influence reached into dorm rooms and truck stops far and wide. But let’s not confuse this with the whole story; Crumb was actually the magician behind the curtain of underground comics during the Sixties and Seventies—you know, the era the world still can’t get over.
In a spectacularly drug-fueled creative frenzy, Crumb introduced us to a bizarre array of characters. We’re talking about lusty, philosophically questionable, absurdists like Mr. Natural, Angelfood McSpade, and Fritz the Cat—who was basically Catnip’s answer to Don Draper. Each figure, complete with distinctive hatching, oozed with Crumb’s anxieties and insecurities. In fact, his most memorable creation is a lanky, bespectacled version of himself, soaked in angst and boiling over with resentment. You can practically hear him muttering: “Why can’t I just draw normal cats?”
Crumb learned the ropes from the likes of Harvey Kurtzman and Carl Barks—names that might as well be the Holy Grail of cartooning. Nadel boldly argues that without Crumb, the likes of Art Spiegelman, Chris Ware, and Daniel Clowes wouldn’t even know how to hold a pencil. Spiegelman himself muses that “every cartoonist has to pass through Crumb,” likening the experience to an evolutionary leap. Think Darwin meets doodling.
Despite being heralded as a countercultural hero, Crumb has always had a knack for looking backward. His obsession with collecting old 78rpm records is perhaps a sign of a man lost in time. He critiques modernity through the lens of his own neuroses, proving that self-reflection may just be the best (and most chaotic) mirror. Crumb was born into a Philadelphia family filled with enough drama and dysfunction to fuel several seasons of a reality TV series. With an operatically unhappy marriage between his parents and a beloved older brother who sadly succumbed to the family legacy of mental health struggles, it’s no wonder Robert found solace in cartooning.
And let’s address the elephant in the room: Crumb’s work is “#problematic” in ways that would give today’s critics a collective migraine. His characters often lean into sexual and racial stereotypes so outdated they could be in their own time capsule. Rape jokes? Check. Hypersexualized caricatures? Double-check. Critics might find his explanations—”Hey, I’m just reflecting the world!”—about as convincing as a cat saying it didn’t mean to knock over your glass of water.
As we wade through Crumb’s oeuvre, we find layers of self-examination. In one comic, he depicts himself being berated by a woman lobbing accusations of “chauvinist pig” at him while he sheepishly argues, “I’ll be good, I promise!” Beneath the humor, there’s a deeply flawed man trying to navigate a complicated world—like a cat attempting to swim. His long-standing obsession with women with impressive legs—yes, you read that correctly—further complicates his legacy. Who knew a cartoonist could have such specific tastes, or that piggyback rides would be considered a romantic gesture?
In a rather ironic twist of fate, while dodging #metoo conversations, Crumb managed some impressive romantic escapades—albeit at the cost of his first marriage. Sure, he once turned down a whopping $20,000 for a line of Mr. Natural toys because, apparently, principles over profit is his motto. As the counterculture shifted and Crumb found himself at a crossroads, he tried to pivot to a more realistic style, only to have a punk fanzine label him a “has-been.” Ouch. It’s like being told by a teenager that your music preferences are lame.
Now aged and living in rural France, Crumb’s life is a conundrum wrapped in an enigma. Residing in a world where his work is suddenly hot property—like collectible Beanie Babies, but without the happy childhood memories—he seems to wade through piles of cash while manifesting a child-like innocence when it comes to financial transactions. In his golden years, he remains unapologetically Robert Crumb, still navigating the absurdities of life with a shrug and a bemused grin. If only we could all embrace our quirks with such bold resignation.
Crumb: A Cartoonist’s Life by Dan Nadel (Scribner £25 pp458). For those keen to dive into the whimsical world of Crumb, head over to timesbookshop.co.uk. Free UK standard P&P on orders over £25. Special discount available for Times+ members, because who doesn’t love a good deal on bizarre biography?
