Charles Schulz, artist of the funny line

'Peanuts' creator celebrated in 'The Art of Charles M. Schulz'

Snoopy dancing -- one of many iconic images from Charles M. Schulz's comic strip, "Peanuts."

(CNN) -- "Peanuts" cartoonist Charles M. Schulz did not consider himself an artist. Andrew Wyeth was an artist, Schulz often said in interviews; he was just a cartoonist, a guy whose job happened to be drawing, creating his comic strips for the masses to smile at over morning coffee.

Schulz was just being humble, says Chip Kidd, the editor of a new book, "Peanuts: The Art of Charles M. Schulz" (Pantheon). He says the man was just as much an artist as Wyeth -- not to mention legendary cartoonists such as Winsor McCay ("Little Nemo in Slumberland"), Milton Caniff ("Terry and the Pirates") and Hal Foster ("Prince Valiant"), masters of the florid, dramatic stroke.

"Our society tends to view the matter like this: Wyeth was putting paint to canvas and the results hung in museums; Schulz was doing ink line drawings that ran in the newspaper, so in the Art Race, Wyeth wins and Schulz gets to sit on the bench with the water bucket," says Kidd in an e-mail interview. "In my mind, that's crazy."

EXTRA INFORMATION Gallery: Images from "Peanuts: The Art of Charles M. Schulz"

Kidd has had a chance to back up his beliefs. "The Art of Charles M. Schulz" is a lushly printed and illustrated compilation of Schulz's career that shows off the cartoonist's versatility and depth.

Here is Schulz the draftsman, sketching objects in high school; Schulz the craftsman, planning out "I Need All the Friends I Can Get," a follow-up to his bestseller "Happiness Is a Warm Puppy"; and Schulz the humorist and storyteller, creator of 50 years of "Peanuts" strips still fresh with warmth, ideas and laughter many years after they were created.

If Schulz -- who died in February, 2000, the day before his final Sunday strip was to appear -- isn't considered an "artist," it's simply the cross cartoonists have often had to bear, says Brian Basset, creator of "Adam" and "Red and Rover."

"Comic strips have always been the poor stepchild of art," he says. "They've [rarely] received the appreciation they deserve."

Simple images

Charlie Brown on the pitcher's mound -- much emotion in only a few strokes.

"Peanuts" is particularly underrated, says Basset, because it appears so simple. He mentions a common Schulz image, that of hapless Charlie Brown standing on the pitcher's mound in the rain. The picture is made of just a few lines: the round-faced Charlie Brown, the downstrokes of the rain, the arc of the mound.

And yet it speaks volumes about sadness and humiliation. "He was able to capture a certain emotion, bringing it to life," says Basset.

"Less is more," agrees Patrick McDonnell, creator of the comic strip "Mutts" and a person who calls Schulz "possibly the greatest cartoonist who ever lived." "He can get so much expression [out of his images]. Look at Charlie Brown's face: It's just two dots and a squiggle. ... He was a master of telling so much with so little."

But it's that kind of minimalism -- Kidd compares Schulz's work with Bauhaus architecture -- that has provoked anti-Schulz feeling, says Tom Inge, a professor at Randolph-Macon College in Ashland, Virginia, and author of "Charles M. Schulz: Conversations."

" 'Peanuts' came along at the time of the shrinking strip," he observes. "[Schulz] knew how to use that space to its full potential. Many cartoonists hold it against him because he 'contributed' to the shrinking space by adjusting to it."

'It doesn't date itself'

But much of what makes "Peanuts" -- which still runs in thousands of newspapers -- equally special is its dialogue and creativity, says McDonnell.

Charles Schulz

Giving voice to Snoopy's thoughts, the kite-eating tree, the Red Baron dogfights, the unadorned spirituality -- all were innovative conceits, he says. "It's funny to think that such a funny and mass cultural work was able to be so avant garde," he says. "But Schulz had the common-man touch. The reason it's still reprinted is because it talks about universal truths. It doesn't date itself."

"The Art of Charles Schulz" traces Schulz's -- and "Peanuts' " -- growth. There are photographs of Schulz's army sketchbook, full of single-panel gags; clippings of "Li'l Folks," "Peanuts' " predecessor, which appeared in the St. Paul, Minnesota, newspaper; and thousands of "Peanuts" strips, from its first appearance in 1950 to some of Schulz's last work. The book is also illustrated with photos of Schulzian objects: a close-up of a well-used pen nib, a drawer of drawing tools, and "Peanuts" dolls, games, and other paraphernalia.

The book was long in coming, says Kidd. His co-editor, Shelley Wanger, had been in talks with Schulz's syndicator about a project since the mid-'90s. After Schulz's death, Wanger and Kidd met with Schulz's widow, Jean, and his creative director, Paige Braddock. With their approval, Kidd and photographer Geoff Spear were soon taking hundreds of photographs in Schulz's studio and home.

Brian Basset paid tribute to Schulz in his strip, "Red and Rover."

Kidd also caught a break. It had been thought that the earliest strips, as they appeared in newspapers, would be difficult to find. But a call from Kidd to a friend, "Jimmy Corrigan" cartoonist Chris Ware, revealed that Ware had just obtained a cache of "Peanuts' " first three years -- and was willing to share.

"When you consider that 'Peanuts' debuted in only eight newspapers, the odds of [that] are astounding," Kidd says.

'The reason I became a cartoonist'

The book also displays the influence of the strip. Countless cartoonists -- from McDonnell and Basset to folks like Ware, Bill Watterson ("Calvin and Hobbes"), and Dan Clowes ("Ghost World") -- owe a debt to Schulz, adds Kidd.

"I was in love with 'Peanuts' growing up," says Basset, who admits he used to cut out every "Peanuts" strip and assemble them in scrapbooks. "He had the most influence on my drawing style."

"Because I sit at a drawing board, I don't think a day goes by I don't think of him," says McDonnell, who became friends with Schulz. "He was the reason I became a cartoonist."

It's perhaps because the characters became so ubiquitous that we have trouble thinking of the man as an artist, he says.

But even Andrew Wyeth wouldn't believe that.

"I have been thinking of you and your very remarkable quality of expressing in simple, direct statements the American way of life," the painter wrote to the cartoonist in late 1999. "It has brought pleasure to many of us. Bless you always."