written by Ariel Dorfman and Armand Mattelart
Context:
The book was originally published in 1971 in Chile. At this time,
the socialist government of Allende was enjoying its upswing.
The
perspectives contained in the book are fascinatingly leftist and the works
of Marx are frequently cited throughout the text. As the writers
are also sociologists (and political theorists), the text is frequently
dense. Intriguingly, the warnings of this book (that Disney, in
particular, was
attempting to spread its capitalist message to the dependencies of the United
States) presaged the fascist coup of Pinochet in 1973 which
ended the socialist reign. It is now widely acknowledged that the US
secretly funded that coup, which promised to return control of Chile's
recently nationalized industries to US held corporations. As we know, the
rule of Pinochet was one of the most repressive and bloody
in recent memory, and the ruler himself is still resisting being brought to
trial for crimes against humanity.
Themes:
My initial guess about the book's content was that it would detail ways in
which Disney had directly advocated the overthrow
of communist governments. Viewing the short comic strips that are
reproduced in the book, you can see that this is certainly (and absurdly)
true, but the authors have aimed even higher. They intend to show that the
universe created by Disney in the comic books is a reflection
of a false adult utopia where leisure is king and history is nothing but a
tourist attraction. Although I have never read the comics (which
were much more popular abroad than here in the US), it seems to me that many of
the arguments could equally well apply to the TV
and movie output of Disney (i.e. Ducktales in particular). Among their
stronger points:
No
one in the Disney universe has parents. Donald Duck is Uncle Scrooge's
nephew, and in turn Huey, Dewey, and Louie are his nephews.
This situation arises from Disney's strict prohibition of sexual or even
platonic love. Mickey and Minnie, Donald and Daisy: no where is it
explicit that these are boyfriend/girlfriend couples. The most extreme
examples of the missing parents come from Disney films, where
mothers are often killed, bad, or just missing (see: Bambi, Snow White,
Dumbo). One intent of this is to create a "children's
paradise," where
they are beholden to no one. It also creates a situation where the
roles of the children and adults are reversed and the adults are allowed
to regress into simpletonism (ex: when Donald and his nephews argue,
his nephews are the voice of reason and are on the side of right much
of the time).
In
the world where the kids are the adults and the adults are ostensibly in
charge, there is a void left open for someone to fill. Someone needs
to be dominated in this universe, and Disney leaves it up to the "noble
savage" to stand in this role. In a large majority of comics, the
ducks travel
to a foreign land in search of treasure and meet the locals along the
way. These locals are depicted without fail as big, childlike, dark,
and naive.
The ducks (adults and kids alike) are free to take advantage of whatever the
locals have while returning either nothing or something of low intrinisic
value in the "civilized" world. One explicit example
concerns Gu, the Abominable Snowman, who is enchanted by the magical
properties of a cheap
wristwatch and eagerly gives up the valuable gold crown in his cave which
is "worthless" to him.
Whether
they are headed to Aztecland (a stereotyped Mexico) or Unsteadystan (an extremely biased representation of Vietnam), the ducks
are almost always
in search of one thing: gold. In fact, gold is the prime
motivator in 75% of the comics, whereas in most
of the rest the ducks are seeking
community fame and prestige in some fashion. Interestingly, whether
the gold comes in the form of bagged nuggets
or a pre-formed artifact, the consistent feature of these comics is the invisibility
of the production chain that created the goods. In other words,
there is no load to be borne by anyone from Duckburg (or for that matter, by
anybody) in obtaining these objects. They are simply there for the
taking; the
items wait only for someone with enough intelligence to come along and make
use of them.
The
grand capitalist myth, that anyone can rise to the top of the pecking order
if they are simply keen enough, is thus in full display in these comics.
The populace in these comics is divided into three types: the
inherently good Duckburgers, the evil swindlers that try to part them from
their rightful
gains, and the childlike "noble savages" that stand by on the
sidelines. The Duckburgers are deserving of everything that comes to
them because
they had the right amount of genius and luck. This luck, which comes
in the form of bad luck which scatters obstacles in the characters' path and
good
luck which ultimately gives them their rewards, is supplied by fate and is
called deconcretized work. The products are not attained
through work or creative
effort, but simply by a sufficiently large accumulation of misfortune or
misery (they then "deserve" their good fortune in turn).
Hard work (indeed, any work)
is a foreign concept to them. The danger of using this foil is
that people come to expect that providence is the only force determining
their fortune. If they receive
any recompense, it was because of their acceptance of fate as their supreme
master. (Slaves to misfortune?) In any event, the goods they
desire simply spring from Mother Earth, fully formed. It is amply
shown that the other two groups cannot possible aspire to join the
bourgoisie upper-class
because in this world you must simply accept who you are. The
Beagle Boys (part of the "thief" group) end up back in jail time
and time again. The native savages are left in the
same state they were at the beginning: neither richer nor poorer.
Furthermore, Scrooge is often an island, reliant totally upon himself.
Even if he
calls in the police, he ends up having to do it all himself. He never
uses his vast wealth to aid him in his quest for more. It only sits in
a pile in the corner,
conferring no power nor advantage to him over any competitor. He
relies solely on his stores of intelligence to let him succeed.
This
leads to one of the core conclusions of the book: the Disney universe never
changes, and this strongly reinforces the proletariat to accept its
lot in life. Nothing material is ever formed in this world (no sex=no
children, no production= no new commodities). Moreover, the
accumulation
of wealth leads to nothing more than further accumulation. Is Scrooge
ever happy with what he gathers on his quest? The answer is a
resounding no,
and furthermore we never even see those things again. They are
converted into more gold coins in his vault. The adventure is never
spoken of again.
In this sense, the Disney comics whitewash history and disallow any change
from the lockstep system. The peasants in foreign lands must remain
there
so that they can be swindled anew the next time McDuck swings through town.
Conclusions:
The book shows a much more coherent explanation of the above thesis than I have
presented here (now that I reread it). Furthermore,
there are many concrete examples of blatant anti-communist propaganda (a soldier
says "shows you can't trust these watches from the 'worker's
paradise!'",
Donald successfully diverts and sells to a crowd of protesters holding
"Peace" and "Love" signs, thereby showing their hypocrisy as
they throw down their ideals
for a glass of lemonade). These dilution strategies try to subsume
unusual phenomena in society (protests, pop art) and make them banal so that the
greater
social body can dismiss them as harmless. In other words, don't worry
about what that radical over there is saying, he's either not serious or he's
just crazy.
Furthermore, if you can co-opt the symbols of a revolution you can dilute its
message (punk rock music isn't so political anymore, the reseller tells a
housewife
to "liberate" herself from chores by buying a new dishwasher and in
doing so steals the term from the women's liberation movement.)
Above this, there is a strong argument that this message coming from Disney is particularly
insidious considering that it is certainly aimed at placating the next
generation of subjugates (children reading the comics). The fact that it
is "juvenile" literature gives it excess license to be fanciful and
construct a world rife with
"adventure," and also gives Disney a tacit buffer from criticism since
"it's only kid's stuff."
My fascination with the book stems mostly from the eye-opening approach to the
discussion. Some parts of capitalism which have been taught to me as
self-evident
(in particular, the ideal of the self-made man) seem a lot more like
indoctrination when you hear a socialist/communist address the issues.
Many people of
my generation might even snicker or shake their heads when told that Scrooge
McDuck's self-reliance is somehow a defect. Likewise, if presented with a
situation
where both parties are very happy with the outcome but you come out vastly ahead
economically, wouldn't you be a fool not to take it? Questions like
this are never asked in an advanced capitalist society, so it was a change to
read things from another angle.