youngsters and by the more knowledgeablenin the early decades of this centuryn(the adoration of the latter group is evidencednin the work of Gilbert Seldes).nToday, adults are too sophisticated forncartoons.nThis has led to a bias in film studies, asnnoted by Donald Grafton, who says thatnhis praiseworthy Before Mickey: ThenAnimated Film 1898-1928 is “the firstnbook to concentrate on the origins andnearly development of the animatednfilm.” Given the time span between thenpresent and the starting point and thennumber of scribblers, scholarly andnotherwise, turning out books aboutnfilms, stars, special effects, and the like,nthe oversight is amazing, and can perhapsnbe explained only as the result of a perceivednsuperiority of conventional overnmere animated films: Woody Allen, yes;nWoody Woodpecker, never!nGrafton’s end point, 1928, is thenaccepted beginning of Mickey Mousen(thus the title). Grafton notes of the generalnaudience: “Some people will nondoubt be surprised to learn that therenwas any animation at all before Mickey.”nWhat emerges from his text is a sense ofnwonder—why Mickey? Winsor McCay’snGertie the dinosaur and Otto Messmer’snFelix the cat are certainly more engagingnthan the pleasant mouse. Unfortunately,nthe others, unlike Disney, didn’t keep upnwith emerging film technology, whichnin those days meant sound, so Mickeynbecame king of the cartoons. (Felix, ofncourse, reemerged with his bag of tricks,nthe Professor, Rock Bottom, and thenrest, but he was a different feline.)nSomething else becomes clear fromnGrafton’s work: it’s okay to enjoy cartoons;neven those with advanced degreesnand inflated self-opinions don’t have tonfeel aberrant about it. If precedent mustnbe cited to assuage feelings of doubtnabout the legitimacy of the acceptancenof animated films in higher circles, thennthere are few better than that of EmilenCohl (1857-1938), one of the fathers—nif not the father—of animation. Gohl hasncredentials to satisfy even the mostnminChronicles of Culturenexalted among sophisticated audiences.nEarly on, Gohl, a talented caricaturist,nassociated with a group of fellow bohemiansnin Paris. Like other art-orientedngroups of the post-Franco-Prussian Warnera, this took a name: the Hydropathes.nAbout them Grafton says, “Among theirnranks were to be found many futurenleaders of the symbolist movement inntheater and literamre.” No one feelsnsqueamish about admiring the symbolists.nGohl was no tangential member; henedited and contributed (poems, reviews,nand drawings) to the group’s newsletter,nL’Hydropathe. He started a weekly satiricalnjournal in 1880, wrote two stagencomedies, worked as a professional portraitnphotographer, and drew andnpainted. During the 1880’s Cohl wasninvolved with a group called the Incoherents,nartists who, like the later surrealists,nwere concerned with the aestheticnaspects of insanity. Andre Bretonnand his breed can, of course, be discussednby those in the know. Gohl, in then1890’s, began illustrating a wide numbernof things—from song sheets tonBritish humor magazines—and Graftonnsays that “at the turn of the century hisnname was far better known than that ofnMelies.” George Melies (1861-1938),nfamed trick photographer, once out ofnfavor, now has critical currency.nGohl, at age 51, entered a film studionfor the first time. In 1908 he started hisnwork in cinema, writing scenarios, thennmoved on to making animated films—ndesigning, animating, and photographingna great number with no assistance. Fromna technical standpoint, Gohl, accordingnto Grafton, was the first to use mattenphotography, a technique that makes itnpossible to combine animated and livenaction (commonly used in Star Warsnand the like today), and the first to use ancamera with an electrically driven shutter.nFrom an aesthetic viewpoint, Grafton’sndescriptions and the frame enlargementsnof Gobi’s work that he supplies indicatenquite forcefiilly that Gohl wasnmore than a mere cartoonist. His LenPeintre ne6-im.pressionniste {19W}nshows a verbal and visual wit (e.g., annnscene entided “A cardinal eating lobsternand tomatoes by the Red Sea” appropriatelynillustrated and tinted [this was anpre-color photography film]) on parnwith the work of, say, musician Erik Satien(e.g., “Three Pear-Shaped Pieces”), anman who worked during Gobi’s lifetime.nAll of Gobi’s work notwithstanding, thenman was forgotten, even in his ownntime. Had he worked in a form like thatnof D. W. Grifiith or King Vidor, there cannbe litde doubt that he would have beenn—and would be—more well respectednand honored, not dismissed as annanimator, a second-class entertainer.nHopefiilly the efforts of Donald Graftonnand other film scholars will result in justicenbeing done to Cohl, McCay, Bray,nMessmer, and the other talented artistsnwho have been categorized out ofnview. DnInSiAdi:nTennesseenWilliams, RIPnSome call him the greatest Americannplaywright ever. It’s hyperbole, of course.nHe was post-Chekhovian practitioner ofnpsychological naturalism, a kind of theaternthat—assuming it is well written—nwill always be praised as art In Americannculture there is a dearth of this kind ofnserious and introspective playwrightingn—Whence, Mr. Williams’s high standing innits hierarchy. He was an accomplishedncraftsman endowed with a fine ear fornstage pace and the sound of dialogue.nWhat he lacked was a gift for creatingnenduring characters that could transcendnthe spectacle and become edifyingnmetaphors. His admfrers called it angenius for portraying human idiosyncraciesnand vulnerabilities; more sobernobservers tended to see it as a limitationnthat confined him to exploring humannpuniness. One might say that his personagesninspired at best pity, at worstndisgust. nn