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G.B. Trudeau

"Rear Admiral Steve Kunkle, commander of the carrier strike force, grimaced at a Doonesbury comic strip from the Japan Times. It showed a Navy pilot thinking 'Oops!'" As Doonesbury shifts to a wartime footing, the strip's major players find themselves pre-positioned for the coming cakewalk. Weekend warrior B.D. leaves the Fighting Swooshes of Walden in the care of acting Coach Boopstein, returning to the sands of Kuwait as Camp Blowback's Public Affairs Officer. Among his charges: Roland Hedley, veteran of a grueling combat training program designed to keep media folk from getting capped. Offshore, the irrepressible Morale Officer Lieutenant. Tripler goes live ("Good MORNING, regime-changers!") to lift the shipbound spirits of his pre-swarthy charges, while offstage, Viceroy-in-Waiting Duke prepares to answer empire's call. 

Stateside, Mike takes up a flanking position on the sofa to log some serious CNN time, while the Reverend Sloan girds his loins for peace: "Look for us on TV-we'll be a million strong." Marching to the beat of a different cause, Zonker's old surfing mentor tries to enlist Z in a desperate fight to liberate Left Coastal access. Protests Zonk, "What can I do? I am but one dude!" Meanwhile, Jeff Redfern is but one CIA intern, yet he manages to launch a Predator drone and, using basic Nintendo training, knock out an Al-Q ammo dump. Also taking a hit, Trent Lott, busted for giving props to segregation. "I was trying to say I was down with the hood!" he backpedals, realizing too late that Mr. James Crow has finally left the house.

With Alex declaring eco-jihad on SUVs, and Elmont launching a daily assault on coherence as on-line blogger "Jenny McTagart, Girl Pirate," it's hard to see a peaceful world ahead. But Jimmy Thudpucker can. Waging war on the recording industry, he and other filesharers have a vision of ultimate change de regime: "The suits die off, and Pepperland will be free again."

Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC

Doonesbury

Got War?

Garry Trudeau

Readers and critics were wowed by G. B. Trudeau's epic masterpiece 40: A Doonesbury Retrospective, and they'll rejoice when they see this beautiful follow-up volume. Featuring an innovative format and an all-new collection of strips, Red Rascal's War is the first all-color Doonesbury book ever. 

Both Trudeau and his fans have followed Doonesbury's ever-expanding cast through four decades of cultural turbulence and change. With its arresting cover and rich interior, Red Rascal's War showcases the most recent additions to a body of work the New York Times admiringly refers to as "a sprawling masterwork."

"[Trudeau is] Dickensian in his range of characters," writes Garry Wills in The New York Review of Books. "Trudeau has just kept improving, year after year, in part because he stays so close to changing events. . . . He has never been better than in the last six years."

From the exploits of Afghan legend-in-chief Sorkh Razil to the pipe dreams of Malibu's top nanny Zonker Harris, and from the "no more chill pills" intervention by Obama's aides to the way-cool love of a headbanging war vet and his MIT-grad gal, Doonesbury marches wildly on.

"What else is guaranteed to make you think, feel nostalgic, and laugh out loud at least once a page?" --Karen Holt, O Magazine

Red Rascal's War

As 9-11 shakes the Doonesbury world, many of its denizens are drawn inexorably toward Ground Zero--Mike to attend a memorial service for a former employer; B.D., reactivated for crowd control and celebrity tourism; Marcia Feinbloom to hit on firefighters; and Zonker to deliver potent fruitcakes to weary rescue workers. Those on the home front are no less affected by events: "I no longer care what Madonna had for breakfast," laments Boopsie, proof positive that Everything Has Changed.

Half a world away, in Al-Qaeda Qountry, a burka-clad Roland Hedley is captured by a freelance warlord, then wounded by a can of Spam during a massive friendly food drop. Feyzabad Station Chief Havoc's effort to rescue the downed journalist speaks well for the new, improved CIA, which has somehow managed to parlay its "massive" intelligence failures into cult status on the nation's campuses. How else to explain Jeff Redfern's new internship with "Acme Imports"--and his sudden affinity for shaken-not-stirred libations?

Meanwhile, former inside trader Phil Slackmeyer watches from his deathbed as the effort to smoke out evildoers expands to include the entire management team of Enron. Prominent among them is "Jimmy Jack Jumbo" Andrews, head of over 400 Caymans-based businesses, who calls his old friend to ask the question on many an ex-exec's mind: "What's prison like?" And back at the White House pressroom, NPR attack-dog Mark has questions of his own, like, "What time will you be launching the cover-up?" and "Will there be a lunch?" Yes, excavating Enron's smoking crater will be a long and dirty job--even if the president barely knows "Mr. Lay," the disgraced CEO with whom he exchanged 350 letters. As Dubya assures us, "I did not have political relations with that man."

Peace Out, Dawg!: Tales from Ground Zero

“In a class by itself.”
—Jules Feiffer on Doonesbury

This all-color volume celebrates the marriage of Alex and Toggle, an event which optimistically confirms that life, like Doonesbury, rolls on. Indeed, how remarkable that the strip has so embraced and occupied its era that three generations of one family have married within its panels. Gathering their kith and kin around them at Walden, the wise but wounded soldier-artist and the brilliant but insecure techhead make a promising team for the years ahead, well-rounded yet squared away.

Doonesbury’s fifth decade finds the largest rep company in the history of comic strips fully and widely engaged. Like so many flesh-and-blood fellow citizens, key characters now struggle with dramatic career change and job stress. And the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan continue to reverberate through the lives of others, as the strip illuminates their experiences with an attentiveness unparalleled in popular culture. Amid the relentless unfolding of unexpected storylines, the strip’s second and third generation characters increasingly take center stage, and the youngest regular, Sam, comes of age—literally in the blink of an eye—as the newlyweds prepare to welcome twins.

It never ends, and how lucky for readers. “Most comic strips run out of creative energy after their initial inspiration,” notes Garry Wills. “Trudeau has just kept improving, year after year.”

Squared Away

In Welcome to the Nerd Farm!: A Doonesbury Book life comes full circle as another Doonesbury Gen Nexer heads for college. With Zipper way-too-deeply embedded at Walden (America's number-one safety school) Alex boldly opts for MIT, the nerdfarm, where 30-hour study binges are de rigueur. Daily 911 calls home and a sense of doom (Just get some duct tape, roll me up in my bedspread, and ship me home . . .) give way as Gal Doonesbury finds fellowship among the similarly exhausted: No nerd left behind, explains roomie Drew, as they co-brainstorm their way through finals.

The indomitable Granny D struggles with a life change as well; the move from sunny Oklahoma to live with Mike and Kim in saturated, caffeinated Seattle leaves her distinctly unbuzzed. Then there's the on-air unraveling of Mark and Chase's marriage (I'm tired of living with a Nazi!), with Joanie handling the technicalities of dissolving a legally nonexistent union. Equally traumatic is Uncle Duke's change of status, emerging from a months-long stupor to find himself pulling down six figures as a K Street lobbyist-and reregistering as a Democrat.

Also shifting kin groups is B.D., who reluctantly joins PTSD group therapy, where Dex, Kurt, and Jason call him on much-needed 'tude adjustments. But there are signs of improvement: I didn't explode! he exults, after finding Zipper living in his office. That homeless yet ebulliently overoptimistic undergrad is deeply smitten with Alex, but is dangerously far ahead of her--picking out their future tabloid nickname before she even knows they're an item. Understandably, her considerable attention is focused elsewhere--on surviving MIT's killer grind and on the Battle of the Bots, a high-tech smackdown where she unleashes Alfie, an impudent, high-end hoverbot. Bring it, techgirl.

Welcome to the Nerd Farm!

The wounded Iraq War vet B.D. continues his healing journey in this sequel to the Doonesbury book The Long Road Home.

When his Humvee was blown apart in Fallujah, B.D. lost his leg—and his signature helmet—but it wasn’t his time to die. As his healing process continues, he discovers that the “war within” can be a long and lonely struggle. It’s hardly the life of a “glamorous amputee” imagined by his daughter's jealous classmate. With his coaching job at Walden re-secured and the marathon PT sessions paying off, B.D.'s return to normalcy seems to be progressing well. But those who love him see alarming signs of trouble.

As B.D. admits to his doctor, “I'd rather sleep with my weapon than my wife! How messed up is that?” Messed up enough that he starts circling the local Vet Center, where he is gently reeled in by a remarkable counselor and Vietnam Vet named Elias. Their sessions together form an extraordinary and moving chronicle of catharsis and coming-to-terms. The words “Welcome home, soldier,” are powerful and transformative, and B.D. is finally getting to a place where he can hear them.

The War Within: One More Step at a Time

The Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist takes on politics, war, pop culture—and the absurd ways they intermingle—in this comic strip anthology.

While some in the Doonesbury universe seek office, others serve. Alex and her Seattle co-hordes devote their young, restless, and body-pierced energy to hooking up “flash art” with politics. Half a world away in Iraq, a major bad boy from stateside devotes himself to liberating the city of Al Amok, ruling with a steady hand, a full glass, and an economy based on looting. As fate would have it, B.D. finds himself heading upriver on an apocalyptic mission to terminate Al Duke with extreme prejudice, a storyline so made-for-TV that B.D. feels compelled to bang out the screenplay on his laptop in real time.

In the homeland, Mark and Zonk join the war against trash politics, but their efforts, alas, come to naught. Walden College's acting coach, Boopstein, lets accusations of way-personal fouls force her football team off the field. Sex parties for recruits? “Who knew we were that competitive?” marvels President King, ending Boopsie's gridiron apprenticeship with two little words: “You're fired.”

Talk to the Hand: A Doonesbury Book

The New York Times–bestselling comic strip collection that proves “how Doonesbury predicted Donald Trump’s presidential run twenty-nine years ago” (The Washington Post).

He tried to warn us. Ever since the release of the first Trump-for-President trial balloon in 1987, Doonesbury’s Garry Trudeau has tirelessly tracked and highlighted the unsavory career of the most unqualified candidate to ever aspire to the White House. It’s all there—the hilarious narcissism, the schoolyard bullying, the loathsome misogyny, the breathtaking ignorance; and a good portion of the Doonesbury cast has been tangled up in it. Join Duke, Honey, Earl, J. J., Mike, Mark, Roland, Boopsie, B. D., Sal, Alice, Elmont, Sid, Zonker, Sam, Bernie, Rev. Sloan, and even the Red Rascal as they cross storylines with the big, orange airhorn who’s giving the GOP such fits.

Garry Trudeau is the “sleazeball” “third-rate talent” who draws the “overrated” comic strip Doonesbury, which “very few people read.” He lives in New York City with his wife Jane Pauley, who “has far more talent than he has.”

“Why so surprised, America? Doonesbury has been preparing us for President Trump since 1987.” —USA Today

“Trump and ‘Doonesbury’: The Comic Gift That Keeps on Giving.” —The New York Times

“If anybody thinks Trump can do a presidential pivot and change his personality Yuge! should be required reading.” —The Daily Kos

“[Trudeau is] practically the court artist of Castle Trump, and no one can beat him (not even Trump, whose capacity for self-parody can’t be overstated).” —Cory Doctorow, Boing Boing