Sylvia falls into a long tradition of political satire, from the gentle rib-bing of the Roman poet Horace (c. 30 bce), to the more pointed barbs of the Roman poet Juvenal (second century ad), to the satires of the Roman cynic Mennipus. This analysis looks to these predecessors to better understand Hollander’s methods, with the understanding that, as Ruben Quintero argues, “we are better able to circumscribe than define satire, though we continue to try” (6). It is intriguing to note at the onset of this exploration of rhetoric, and more specifi-cally the satirical tradition, that comics scholarship has rarely exam-ined the connection between satire and comics. In fact, despite the satirical bent of many comic strips, and the long tradition of edito-rial cartoons, there are very few critical works examining how satire plays out in comic strips, with notable exceptions being Kerry Sop-er’s work on Doonesbury (2008) and Pogo (2012), as well as works by Berger (1994), Hendley (1983), and Goldstein (1992). It thus behooves the comics scholar interested in satire to turn to rhetorical theory for guidance.
Satire has, according to Patricia Meyer Spacks, “a public function, and its public orientation remains” (363). The satirist observes the failings of society, and brings them into focus for an audience, and does so with the intent to persuade. However, for all of their civic mindedness, satirists maintain a rather sullied reputation. Jackie Stallcup posits that “from the perspective of many adults, satire is a rough-and-tumble, ill-bred form that strips away illusions, attacks hapless targets, and flays the world open to reveal humanity in all of its ugly glory” (172). In The Art of Satire, David Worcester contends,
“Many persons instinctively shrink from satire as they might from a scorpion” (38), thus summarizing the feelings of numerous read-ers. Despite this “rough-and-tumble” status, a status, I might add, shared by cartoonists who are also generally disdained by various members of the public, scholars regularly posit that satirists speak out for what the creator believes to be the public good. Ruben Quin-tero claims:
A true satirist must be a true believer, a practicing humanitarian, responsible even in his or her subjective indulgence or personal indignation. . . . Satire also moves heart and mind through build-ing tension and provokbuild-ing conflict, but, unlike tragedy and comedy, stops short of any reconciliation with its subject. And as the prism does to light, it leaves its subject refracted and disharmonized. Sat-ire remains militantly rhetorical and hortatory. (3)
The windows provided by the panels of a comic strip thus act like the facets of the prism, splitting a subject into smaller pieces, illuminating each frame and shining light in new directions. Not only do politi-cal cartoons and comic strips break apart the subject, they also invite the reader to participate in the process of making meaning. Satire is dialogic by nature, engaging in a conversation between creator and audience, encouraging a connection and an eventual action, and this special reciprocal relationship is an enduring one, for, from Horace to Hollander, the satirist pokes fun at “the haves” and fights for the
“have nots.” Laura Egendorf clarifies, “Yet even as the context shifts and the specific targets change, the purpose of satire—to expose flaws, cruelty, and hypocrisy—has remained the same throughout history” (8). In order to enter into this exchange, Matthew Hodgart indicates that “the political satirist in particular must try to reach a wide public if he is to achieve his ends, and any popular medium will serve his purpose” (163). Thus, the medium of the comic strip as housed in the newspaper has been uniquely positioned to reach a wide, and public audience, and the newspaper has long been the site for significant satire.
In fact, satire has a special link with comic strips and the partic-ular form of Menippean satire has enjoyed an extensive and varied tradition, having recently come into vogue among academics. Ruben Quintero, for his part, comments, “Even though a universal definition of Menippean satire may be a will-o-the-wisp . . . scholars continue to enlighten us about this especially complex art form” (7). In his com-prehensive book on Menippean Satire, Grotesque Anatomies: Menip-pean Satire Since the Renaissance, David Musgrave maintains, “Since the proselytizing work of both Northrop Frye and Mikhail Bakhtin in the second half of this century, . . . there has been a revival of interest in the genre, although the quality of work produced on the subject has varied widely” (33). Indeed, much of the work of the scholars
writing about Menippean satire supports a particular theoretical agenda, with Frye conflating Menippean satire with “anatomy” and Bakhtin focusing on the “carnivalesque” aspects of the form. Mus-grave argues, “There is no Menippean satire which is quintessentially Menippean: there is no paradigmatic Menippean satire and there is no such thing as a ‘pure’ Menippean satire. A form which is based on disjunction and impurity can have no final, refined form” (67–68).
Menippean satire, then, has a slippery history and seems to shift meaning depending on the philosopher or critic and his or her inten-tions and argument.
Menippean satire’s elusive nature is perhaps no surprise, consid-ering the ambiguity of its presumed creator, Menippus, a Cynic phi-losopher working around 250 bce.1 The writings of Menippus are lost, further complicating attribution, with Bakhtin arguing that “Men-nipean satires were written by Aristotle’s contemporary Heraclides Ponticus, Antisthenes, a pupil of Socrates, and Bion Borysthenes”
(qtd. in Musgrave 1–2). While it is easy, according to Musgrave, to get “bogged down” trying to verify the author and originator of Menippean satire, Bakhtin seems to believe that “a genre of sorts existed from multiple points of origin whose most influential avatar was Mennipus” (Musgrave 2). The now-lost works of Mennipus did seem to inspire followers, particularly the Roman poet and philoso-pher Marcus Terentius Varro, who wrote prolifically in the style of Mennipus, to the point that some conflate Mennipean and Varronian satire. Mennipus also features as a character in Lucian’s “Dialogues with the Dead,” and through Varro’s work, Mennipus became a curi-ous sort of philosophical celebrity, even though his actual writings remain lost.
The man and the tradition he inspired have a mysterious, some-what comical bent, for the creator can be remade and refashioned to suit the follower. Thus, as has been indicated by others, there is no single, pure, unassailable definition, but rather a malleable con-struct which, with a nod to history and an understanding of
1. For an in-depth consideration of the history of Mennipus and Mennipean satire, see Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1957), Howard Weinbrot’s Menippean Satire Reconsidered: From Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century (Baltimore: John Hopkins UP, 2005), David Musgrave’s Grotesque Anato-mies: Menippean Satire Since the Renaissance (Newcastle on Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Press, 2014), and Bakhtin’s Problems of Dostoevski’s Poetics (Minneapolis: U of Min-neapolis P, 1984).
guity, can be defined by the critic. Therefore, while I acknowledge the long tradition and varied definitions of Menippean satire, I find myself persuaded by David Musgrave’s careful historical research and thorough reading of the literature, and my interpretation relies primarily on his work to explicate the form for contemporary texts.
In Musgrave’s informed and thoughtful exploration, which traces the history and genealogy of Menippean satire, he indicates that a few key features of the genre stand out throughout time and in refer-ence to various examples attributed to Menippean satire. Musgrave argues for the following qualities: “structural heterogeneity,” “sty-listic heterogeneity,” “thematic heterogeneity,” “grotesque iconog-raphy,” “extreme eccentricity,” “encyclopedism,” “catachresis,” and
“digression” (Musgrave 57). While these qualities have been primar-ily linked to the Menippean satire found in narrative political com-mentary, and later, novels, they are also very much in evidence in politically focused cartoons, such as Sylvia. Furthermore, examining Sylvia through the lens of Menippean satire brings her shrewd use of rhetorical strategy into sharper focus, illuminating the methods by which the strip makes an argument for a different world view, and against dominant narratives that serve to stereotype and oppress.