CLEVELAND, OHIO (Rooters) If reculsive artist Bill Watterson has his way, it will soon become illegal to own copies of his beloved Calvin & Hobbes comic strips and even Stupendous Man may be powerless to stop him.
Breaking a long period of seclusion in which he granted no interviews and issued virtually no public statements, Watterson, creator of the wildly popular and critically acclaimed “Calvin & Hobbes”, has announced that he is seeking the total destruction of all copies of the strip in any form.
Watterson’s unwavering refusal to merchandise his characters is well-known, but his latest decision raises his commitment to the purity of his art to a new, and some would say too extreme, level.
“I’ve always believed that merchandising and licensing cheapens the original creation,” Watterson wrote in a statement faxed to Universal Press Syndicate, which distributed the strip from 1985 to 1995, and Andrews McMeel Publishing, which published 18 bestselling collections of it in book form, including a massive 22-pound, 1440-page “Complete” edition in 2005.
“My decision to destroy all copies of the strip itself is simply the logical extension of this core belief,” the statement continued. “When cartoon characters appear on countless products, the public inevitably grows bored and irritated with them, and the appeal and value of the original work are diminished. But when the public can simply read the original work over and over again, the same boredom and irritation inevitably follow. The only solution is to destroy the strip itself. It will live on for a few years as a fond memory, and then fade away entirely. And that’s the way it should be.”
Watterson is hardly the first artist to destroy one of his own creations. But he is almost certainly the most successful, making the execution of his decree a daunting logistical challenge. Under existing copyright law, owners of Calvin & Hobbes books must return any and all copies to Andrews McMeel Publishing by the end of the year, where they will be shredded and pulped in a warehouse specially converted for the task. Saving old newspaper copies of the strip will also become technically illegal.
In a press conference today, representatives from Mr. Watterson’s legal team admitted that while pulling the books from stores and libraries will be relatively straightforward, Watterson’s demands would be difficult to enforce against individual consumers. They announced the establishment of a website where people can report friends or acquaintances who may be hoarding old books or clippings.
“We’re counting on the support of the public to make sure Bill’s wishes are fully respected on this one,” said attorney Dionne Levchak, of intellectual property law firm Levchak Barnes & Groder, tasked with overseeing the execution of Watterson’s decree.
However, other legal scholars doubted that Watterson would ever be able to achieve the complete destruction of his strip. “Is he going to start suing college kids and grandmothers, like the RIAA?” asked Stanford law professor and copyright expert Lawrence Lessig, referring to the recording industry’s controversial prosecutions of people suspected of illegally downloading copyrighted music over the Internet. “It’s completely unworkable. It’s copyright law run amok.”
Lessig added that he was preparing a legal challenge to Watterson’s demand. But if it fails, then workable or not, the era when readers could legally own and enjoy Calvin’s adventures could be over just two months from now. That’s one cliffhanger not even Spaceman Spiff would appreciate.
Breaking a long period of seclusion in which he granted no interviews and issued virtually no public statements, Watterson, creator of the wildly popular and critically acclaimed “Calvin & Hobbes”, has announced that he is seeking the total destruction of all copies of the strip in any form.
Watterson’s unwavering refusal to merchandise his characters is well-known, but his latest decision raises his commitment to the purity of his art to a new, and some would say too extreme, level.
“I’ve always believed that merchandising and licensing cheapens the original creation,” Watterson wrote in a statement faxed to Universal Press Syndicate, which distributed the strip from 1985 to 1995, and Andrews McMeel Publishing, which published 18 bestselling collections of it in book form, including a massive 22-pound, 1440-page “Complete” edition in 2005.
“My decision to destroy all copies of the strip itself is simply the logical extension of this core belief,” the statement continued. “When cartoon characters appear on countless products, the public inevitably grows bored and irritated with them, and the appeal and value of the original work are diminished. But when the public can simply read the original work over and over again, the same boredom and irritation inevitably follow. The only solution is to destroy the strip itself. It will live on for a few years as a fond memory, and then fade away entirely. And that’s the way it should be.”
Watterson is hardly the first artist to destroy one of his own creations. But he is almost certainly the most successful, making the execution of his decree a daunting logistical challenge. Under existing copyright law, owners of Calvin & Hobbes books must return any and all copies to Andrews McMeel Publishing by the end of the year, where they will be shredded and pulped in a warehouse specially converted for the task. Saving old newspaper copies of the strip will also become technically illegal.
In a press conference today, representatives from Mr. Watterson’s legal team admitted that while pulling the books from stores and libraries will be relatively straightforward, Watterson’s demands would be difficult to enforce against individual consumers. They announced the establishment of a website where people can report friends or acquaintances who may be hoarding old books or clippings.
“We’re counting on the support of the public to make sure Bill’s wishes are fully respected on this one,” said attorney Dionne Levchak, of intellectual property law firm Levchak Barnes & Groder, tasked with overseeing the execution of Watterson’s decree.
However, other legal scholars doubted that Watterson would ever be able to achieve the complete destruction of his strip. “Is he going to start suing college kids and grandmothers, like the RIAA?” asked Stanford law professor and copyright expert Lawrence Lessig, referring to the recording industry’s controversial prosecutions of people suspected of illegally downloading copyrighted music over the Internet. “It’s completely unworkable. It’s copyright law run amok.”
Lessig added that he was preparing a legal challenge to Watterson’s demand. But if it fails, then workable or not, the era when readers could legally own and enjoy Calvin’s adventures could be over just two months from now. That’s one cliffhanger not even Spaceman Spiff would appreciate.





