The humour history of Don Martin: Wyn Drabble

Cartoonist Don Martin helped shape a way of looking at our often absurd existence, writes Wyn Drabble.

Opinion

Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, writer, public speaker and musician. He is based in Hawke’s Bay.

This week I’m concentrating on an admirable human for no other reason than I can.

It’s not his birthday nor is it the anniversary of his death; it’s just that I frequently think of him and the effect he had on my life, particularly, I suppose, on my own sense of humour.

Along with a long list of others – and, by listing them, I risk leaving someone out – he helped shape my way of looking at our often absurd existence.

The list includes (in roughly chronological order of importance) Spike Milligan, John Cleese, Peter Cook, Dave Barry, John Clarke, Rowan Atkinson, Bill Bryson, Clive James, Barry Humphries, Joe Bennett, Stephen Fry, Lee Mack, Jo Brand, Alan Davies, David Mitchell, Sandi Toksvig …

The man to whom I refer is Don Martin, Mad Magazine cartoonist from 1956 to 1988. When I was a bare-kneed schoolboy in navy shorts, he introduced me to the belly laugh, he helped me develop my sense of irony.

Don Martin's cartoons were downplayed, intentionally naïve and often came with great sound effects.

Up until now I’ve never had to dissect or analyse his work because I’d just get it and laugh. Now that I’ve started writing this, I feel I need to try and explain why I found his work funny.

First, I liked the titles of his cartoon strips. I liked them because they were downplayed, intentionally naïve and usually totally unnecessary. A sample should give you the idea:

One Fine Day During Lunch

One Day in South Dakota

One Fine Day During the Civil War

Very Early One Morning

And then, taking things up a notch by being more specific:

One Saturday Morning About 10:30

One Fine Day About Two Weeks Ago

Now, I understand that if you don’t have a sense of irony you will find those remarkably unfunny and even wonder why they are taking up this space.

Well, it’s probably because I’ve got irony coming out the wazoo. And I don’t even know what a wazoo is!

Second, I liked his drawings; they had life, individuality and humour (out the wazoo). If, for example, a character was standing on the edge of a footpath next to the gutter, the front part of his foot would hang over the edge at a 45˚ angle. If the character was striding purposefully, the extended front foot featured the same fold.

The man himself said, “I draw cartoons to be funny. The figures are meant to be comical, that’s why the distortions are the way they are. The long face, the long jaw, the eyes close together, they strike me as being funny and they make me smile”.

Thirdly, I admired his onomatopoeia, so much so that I used examples from his work in English classrooms for decades. Pupils seemed to prefer onomatopoeia to other language techniques because it gave them a chance to make stuff up.

Let’s have a little quiz. I’ll give you some real examples of sound words Don Martin made up and you can try to guess what is making the noise. What fun! (Answers will follow.)

1. Kakroosh
2. Karrak Fizzitz Pow
3. Poit
4. Glit Glort Bleeble Durp
5. Fagroon Klubble Klubble

It turns out that Martin himself was nothing like the zany characters in his work. A former Mad editor says, “For him it was more of a Zen existence with a fondness for walks on the beach.”

(Answers: 1 - a tree falling down, 2 - a lightning strike, 3 - a generous bosom popping out from the top of a corset being tightened, 4 - a dripping tap, 5 - a supermarket building collapsing.)

And here, inspired by Martin, is the sound of a column coming to a close:

Pfaff.