It seems only appropriate, in Merrie England, that the lighthearted humor of a very British cartoon canine brightens the mornings of newspaper readers each day. Fred Basset first appeared in the Daily Mail on July 9, 1963. The philosophical basset hound, his nameless middle-aged owners, and supporting cast of characters were conceived by the Scottish cartoonist Alex Graham. Graham had created several other comic strips, including Wee Hughie (1945) and Our Bill (1946), and his 1953 New Yorker cartoon of two aliens addressing a horse (“Kindly take us to your President!”) is widely believed to be the starting point of the popular catchphrase “Take me to your leader.”
Commissioned for a six-month period, Fred Basset has far exceeded expectations. The strip is syndicated in more than 200 newspapers. It was regularly read on the radio by the Australian comedian Hamish Blake. An animated television series of five-minute shorts, created by Bill Melendez Productions of Peanuts fame, briefly ran on the BBC in 1976. There are also widely anticipated annuals, compilations, one-off volumes and calendars.
Which brings us to The Best of Fred Basset. This volume contains only a few strips by Graham, who died in 1991. The rest were created by the duo who have faithfully taken care of Fred ever since: illustrator Michael Martin and Graham’s daughter, Arran. In the foreword, the latter apologizes to readers if this decision “seems a little biased.” But she believes that she and her coauthor “have tried to remain faithful to Dad’s gentle humor and wry view of life” and hopes readers “will find something to chuckle and smile about in this book.”
Why was a basset hound chosen as the main protagonist? These popular hunting dogs are known for their speed, sense of smell, and intelligence. Graham had a loyal basset, Freda, who served as the perfect model (and name) for his cartoon version. Also, Graham “often used dogs in cartoons for Punch and other periodicals,” according to his daughter: “By the early sixties, bassets were becoming fashionable, and celebrities, including Clint Eastwood, Marilyn Monroe and Rex Harrison, were acquiring them as pets. . . . The basset hound provided the perfect character.”
There’s a tried-and-true formula to Fred Basset. Strips rarely exceed two or three panels. The characters are caught in a time warp, although modern references to, say, selfies and Harry Potter occasionally appear. Politics is verboten. There are many rounds of golf, excursions to the countryside, and pints at the neighborhood pub. The jokes can be described as safe and politely amusing.
Fred is always seen, but never heard and, like more than a few cartoon animals (Snoopy, Garfield, etc.), “speaks” in thought bubbles. But it’s through his observations about the foibles of everyday life that we begin to better understand the world around him—and, therefore, our world. Some examples:
- A duck quacks at Fred in front of a saloon. The pub’s name turns out to be The Dog & Duck, leading the basset hound to say, “Yes, I agree. It is a coincidence!”
- Fred is walking with Jock, a black Scottish terrier, to whom he says, “We’ve just had a ploughman’s lunch . . . and the ploughman’s not very pleased about it.” The look of disgust on the farm worker’s face says it all.
- Fred’s male owner is playing the piano. A perturbed Fred asks, “As Shakespeare said, ‘If music be the food of love, play on.’ That’s all very well, but where’s my dinner?!”
Fred Basset‘s style of humor has struggled to find an audience in America. Cartoonists like Charles M. Schulz (Peanuts) and Hank Ketcham (Dennis the Menace) admired Alex Graham’s work, and the strip has long been syndicated. But few of us on this side of the Atlantic would call it one of our favorites. Which is a shame, because Fred Basset fits with the rich tradition of British strips such as Teddy Tail (1915), Bobby Bear (1919), Japhet and Happy (1919), and Rupert Bear (1920) that were conceived in a time of order, precision, and respect for society but contained a subtle humor, periodic wisdom, and a certain creative genius that invariably makes readers smile.
Michael Taube writes a syndicated column for Troy Media.
