When I was little, my father brought me many a Donald Duck comic book. I now own hundreds of them from all the comics he brought home to me as well as from my subscriptions. I have been rereading them of late and I find that they are as funny, poignant, and enjoyable now that I’m in my 40’s as they were when I was a preteen.

I think that a lot of my peers were reading superhero comics while I was reading Disney comics. Judging from my memory of their doodles in class anyway. Donald duck is a really wonderful creation, especially the way he appears in a lot of the comics from the 40’s and 50’s. This was when he was being drawn by a man named Carl Barks who created many characters within the Donald Duck universe in addition to drawing Donald himself.

Donald is a wonderful character for many reasons, not the least of which being his tendency to get in over his head very quickly with tricky situations and ornery people and then refuse to back down even when things seem hopeless. In a way, his obstinacy is purely selfish: he wants to win at any cost. But in another way, his easily provoked fury is his most endearing quality, at least from a reader’s point of view. When he gets well and truly mad, and goes berserk, his antics are some of the most entertaining things in the whole world.

But it’s not only that that makes his obstinacy endearing. As we, the readers, get caught up alongside whatever mission he happens to be on, naturally we identify with his plight or struggle and want him to persist. And his unfailing gumption when faced with adversity is what delights readers the most.

Of course, he doesn’t always win and he doesn’t always get so riled up that he goes berserk. As often as not, he becomes a whimpering, trembling puddle of feathers when faced with a problem and it is only through the violent, forceful coaxing of his nephews or other friends and relatives that he makes any attempt to bear up and take action at all.

Barring the above two scenarios, there is another side of Donald, which I would argue is reflective of his darker, more sinister nature. Occasionally, when a problem presents itself, Donald makes up his mind to cheat (or at least do something very unethical) with little to no compunction. Usually, when this side of Donald presents itself, his face (or at least the way Barks draws it), takes on a devilish appearance with a maniacal grin and sometimes he even sprouts little horns on his head. This side of Donald is usually short-lived however and either his evil, cheating plans fail and he is exposed for his crimes (instantly wiping away his devilish glee) or his conscience gets the better of him and he spends the rest of whatever story he is involved in trying to undo his mischief.

But what is it exactly that made (or makes) Donald Duck so irresistibly appealing and FUN? Although its possible I truly missed out on the superhero genre of comic book while devoting my childhood comic-book reading activities solely to Donald and Disney (for the most part), I regret nothing. Especially now, at the dawn of my middle age. To picture Donald’s face when he is engaged in an argument, or when he has caught one of his nephews in a lie, or when he is escaping a foe (having found himself in some dangerous entanglement), is to bring to mind all the wonderful things about being human, all those things one would want to do if the real world would just stop telling us we can’t. Donald, although a duck, is so very human himself in his frailties, his foibles, his desires, his impetuousness, his firey temper, his fear of danger, and his overconfidence in his abilities to do things with which he has no experience.

To my mind, Donald Duck very much embodies middle-class American values and qualities. I think that is one reason I began to revisit him, because all things middle-class are becoming so hard to find these days. That, and also just because they brought back some happy memories from childhood, memories of a simpler, less… interconnected time. But he’s not only “middle-class,” he’s also very ordinary and it’s this ordinariness that obviously sets him apart from the super-hero genre of comics but also makes all his adventures that much more fun to read about because it makes it that much easier to imagine ourselves (us poor run-of-the-mill average Joe’s reading comics) in his shoes, partaking in his extraordinary exploits.

To me, Donald Duck is a very comforting presence. Specifically, as he is drawn by Carl Barks. It’s probably because I grew up with him and I have powerful associations of comfort and safety and love surrounding these comics but I can only imagine that if I had never read these comics as a child and were just discovering them for the first time today, I would still feel the same way about them. I’ll never know. Donald, and the entire universe he inhabits, Duckburg and the world beyond it, is a familiar comfortable place for me. I’m deeply fond of it and it will always hold a special place in my heart. I’m sure most people don’t feel quite as strongly as I do about these things but who knows, maybe they do.

These comics were very much a product of bygone days: days when paper and ink were the only way of making a comic. Nowadays, seeing as everything is online and all of an artists’ tools are available in paid applications and whatnot, the level of craftsmanship, of depth of feeling, of understanding of human temperament are gone. Donald was very much a product of his age and that age certainly seems to be over as far as I can tell. But I’m deeply grateful I have copies of these wonderful creations and that I was able to revisit them the way I was.

Donald Duck, as drawn by Carl Barks, was and is a force to be reckoned with, a joy to behold, and a dyed-in-the-wool American artform in and of himself, if only you care to seek him out.