How Franklin Became Peanuts’ First Black Character, Thanks to a Caring Schoolteacher (1968)

Like many chil­dren of the 70s, I was wild for Charles Schulz’s Peanuts, and had the mer­chan­dise to prove it. I was a Snoopy girl, for the most part, but not averse to receiv­ing items fea­tur­ing oth­er characters—Linus, Schroed­er, the caus­tic Lucy, Pig­Pen, and, of course, Char­lie Brown. My father was a suck­er for the com­par­a­tive­ly butch Pep­per­mint Pat­ty, and Mar­cie, the bespec­ta­cled hang­er-on who referred to Pat­ty as “Sir.”

But there was one char­ac­ter I don’t remem­ber see­ing on any Peanuts swag in 1970s Indi­ana…. Actu­al­ly, that’s not accu­rate. I don’t remem­ber any Shermy sweat­shirts. Female sec­ond bananas like Vio­let, the orig­i­nal, i.e. non-Pep­per­mint Pat­ty, and Frie­da were also under­rep­re­sent­ed, despite the latter’s oft-men­tioned nat­u­ral­ly curly hair.

The char­ac­ter I’m think­ing of nev­er became a major play­er, but he was notable. Ground-break­ing even. Can you guess?

Franklin

Thats right: Franklin, the only African-Amer­i­can mem­ber of the Peanuts gang.

(An African-Amer­i­can tod­dler, Milo, below, had a 17-strip run in 1977 when Char­lie Brown had to skip town after exact­ing his revenge on the kite-eat­ing tree… That’s it. Poor Franklin.)

Castrubyaustin-1-

Franklin owes his exis­tence, in large part, to Har­ri­et Glick­man, a white teacher from LA, who found let­ter writ­ing one of the few forms of activism in which a moth­er of three children—all square­ly with­in the Peanuts demographic—could ful­ly par­tic­i­pate. Raised by lib­er­al par­ents to con­sid­er her­self a glob­al cit­i­zen, and to speak out against injus­tice, she wrote the authors of sev­er­al lead­ing com­ic strips in the wake of Dr. Mar­tin Luther King’s assas­si­na­tion in April, 1968.  Would the cre­ators of Peanuts and Mary Worth con­sid­er intro­duc­ing a black char­ac­ter into the mix, as a first step on what Glick­man fore­saw as a “long and tor­tu­ous road” toward a future cli­mate of “open friend­ship, trust and mobil­i­ty” between the races?

Mary Worth’s Allen Saun­ders declined, appar­ent­ly say­ing that he shared Glick­man’s sen­ti­ments but feared the syn­di­cate would drop his strip if he fol­lowed her sug­ges­tion.

Schulz didn’t exact­ly leap at the chance, either, say­ing that he was in the same boat as the oth­er sym­pa­thet­ic car­toon­ists who’d begged off. What he feared wasn’t so much the syndicate’s response, as the sus­pi­cion that he might be seen as “patron­iz­ing our Negro friends.”

Glick­man per­sist­ed, ask­ing his per­mis­sion to share his let­ter with some of her “Negro friends,” all par­ents. Per­haps they could offer some thoughts that might induce the car­toon­ist to say yes.

One of these friends, Glickman’s neigh­bor, Ken Kel­ly, prompt­ly fired off his own let­ter to Schulz, writ­ing:

I’d like to express an opin­ion as a Negro father of two young boys. We have a sit­u­a­tion in Amer­i­ca in which racial enmi­ty is con­stant­ly por­trayed.


Like Glick­man, he felt that a “casu­al day-to-day scene” fea­tur­ing a non-white char­ac­ter would give his sons and oth­er chil­dren of col­or a chance to see them­selves reflect­ed in the strip, while pro­mot­ing “racial ami­ty” to read­ers of all races.

Glick­man expressed hope that Peanuts would even­tu­al­ly grow to include more than one black child:

Let them be as adorable as the others…but please…allow them a Lucy!

With­in weeks of receiv­ing Kelly’s let­ter, and just over two months into Glickman’s let­ter-writ­ing cam­paign, Schulz reached a deci­sion. He wrote Glick­man that she should check the paper the week of July 29, 1968.

July_31,_1968_Peanuts_comic

Franklin, his skin tone indi­cat­ed by close­ly set diag­o­nal lines, made his debut in a bathing suit, return­ing Char­lie Brown’s run­away beach ball. The encounter took three days to play out, dur­ing which Franklin and Char­lie Brown form an alliance of vaca­tion­ing chil­dren whose usu­al play­mates are else­where. It would seem that the major dif­fer­ence between them is that Franklin’s dad is in Viet­nam. Obvi­ous­ly, a lot of thought went into their casu­al dia­logue.

Benign as Franklin was, his pres­ence sparked out­rage. Some South­ern read­ers cried foul when he showed up in the same class­room as Mar­cie and Pep­per­mint Pat­ty. Oth­ers felt Franklin wasn’t black enough.

Ulti­mate­ly Franklin nev­er achieved A‑list sta­tus, but he did res­onate with cer­tain read­ers, notably William Bell, a diver­si­ty offi­cer work­ing with the Cincin­nati Police Depart­ment.

And while Franklin t‑shirts have shown up on the racks, it was only a cou­ple of years ago that he joined the realm of offi­cial­ly licensed action fig­ures, as a Char­lie Brown Christ­mas fig­urine.

Vis­it Mash­able to see repro­duc­tions of Glick­man and Schulz’s cor­re­spon­dence. And watch the video above to hear more about her upbring­ing and anoth­er com­ic that fea­tured black char­ac­ters, Date­line: Dan­ger!, a col­lab­o­ra­tion between Saun­ders’ son John and artist Al McWilliams.

Via Mash­able

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Charles Schulz Draws Char­lie Brown in 45 Sec­onds and Exor­cis­es His Demons

Watch the First Ani­ma­tions of Peanuts: Com­mer­cials for the Ford Motor Com­pa­ny (1959–1961)

Read Mar­tin Luther King and The Mont­gomery Sto­ry: The Influ­en­tial 1957 Civ­il Rights Com­ic Book

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

How Walking Fosters Creativity: Stanford Researchers Confirm What Philosophers and Writers Have Always Known

Walking

Image via Diego Sevil­la Ruiz

A cer­tain Zen proverb goes some­thing like this: “A five year old can under­stand it, but an 80 year old can­not do it.” The sub­ject of this rid­dle-like say­ing has been described as “mindfulness”—or being absorbed in the moment, free from rou­tine men­tal habits. In many East­ern med­i­ta­tive tra­di­tions, one can achieve such a state by walk­ing just as well as by sit­ting still—and many a poet and teacher has pre­ferred the ambu­la­to­ry method.

This is equal­ly so in the West, where we have an entire school of ancient philosophy—the “peri­patet­ic”—that derives from Aris­to­tle and his con­tem­po­raries’ pen­chant for doing their best work while in leisure­ly motion. Friedrich Niet­zsche, an almost fanat­i­cal walk­er, once wrote, “all tru­ly great thoughts are con­ceived by walk­ing.” Niet­zsche’s moun­tain walks were ath­let­ic, but walk­ing—Frédéric Gros main­tains in his A Phi­los­o­phy of Walk­ing—is not a sport; it is “the best way to go more slow­ly than any oth­er method that has ever been found.”

Gros dis­cuss­es the cen­tral­i­ty of walk­ing in the lives of Niet­zsche, Rim­baud, Kant, Rousseau, and Thore­au. Like­wise, Rebec­ca Sol­nit has pro­filed the essen­tial walks of lit­er­ary fig­ures such as William Wordsworth, Jane Austen, and Gary Sny­der in her book Wan­der­lust, which argues for the neces­si­ty of walk­ing in our own age, when doing so is almost entire­ly unnec­es­sary most of the time. As great walk­ers of the past and present have made abun­dant­ly clear—anecdotally at least—we see a sig­nif­i­cant link between walk­ing and cre­ative think­ing.

More gen­er­al­ly, writes Fer­ris Jabr in The New York­er, “the way we move our bod­ies fur­ther changes the nature of our thoughts, and vice ver­sa.” Apply­ing mod­ern research meth­ods to ancient wis­dom has allowed psy­chol­o­gists to quan­ti­fy the ways in which this hap­pens, and to begin to explain why. Jabr sum­ma­rizes the exper­i­ments of two Stan­ford walk­ing researchers, Mar­i­ly Oppez­zo and her men­tor Daniel Schwartz, who found that almost two hun­dred stu­dents test­ed showed marked­ly height­ened cre­ative abil­i­ties while walk­ing. Walk­ing, Jabr writes in poet­ic terms, works by “set­ting the mind adrift on a froth­ing sea of thought.” (Hear Dr. Oppez­zo dis­cuss her study in a Min­neso­ta pub­lic radio inter­view above.)

Oppez­zo and Schwartz spec­u­late, “future stud­ies would like­ly deter­mine a com­plex path­way that extends from the phys­i­cal act of walk­ing to phys­i­o­log­i­cal changes to the cog­ni­tive con­trol of imag­i­na­tion.” They rec­og­nize that this dis­cov­ery must also account for such vari­ables as when one walks, and—as so many notable walk­ers have stressed—where. Researchers at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan have tack­led the where ques­tion in a paper titled “The Cog­ni­tive Ben­e­fits of Inter­act­ing with Nature.” Their study, writes Jabr, showed that “stu­dents who ambled through an arbore­tum improved their per­for­mance on a mem­o­ry test more than stu­dents who walked along city streets.”

One won­ders what James Joyce—whose Ulysses is built almost entire­ly on a scaf­fold­ing of walks around Dublin—would make of this. Or Wal­ter Ben­jamin, whose con­cept of the flâneur, an arche­typ­al urban wan­der­er, derives direct­ly from the insights of that most imag­i­na­tive deca­dent poet, Charles Baude­laire. Clas­si­cal walk­ers, Roman­tic walk­ers, Mod­ernist walkers—all rec­og­nized the cre­ative impor­tance of this sim­ple move­ment in time and space, one we work so hard to mas­ter in our first years, and some­times lose in lat­er life if we acquire it. Going for a walk, con­tem­po­rary research confirms—a mun­dane activ­i­ty far too eas­i­ly tak­en for granted—may be one of the most salu­tary means of achiev­ing states of enlight­en­ment, lit­er­ary, philo­soph­i­cal, or oth­er­wise, whether we roam through ancient forests, over the Alps, or to the cor­ner store.

via The New York­er/Stan­ford News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Why You Do Your Best Think­ing In The Show­er: Cre­ativ­i­ty & the “Incu­ba­tion Peri­od”

The Psy­chol­o­gy of Messi­ness & Cre­ativ­i­ty: Research Shows How a Messy Desk and Cre­ative Work Go Hand in Hand

John Cleese’s Phi­los­o­phy of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Cre­at­ing Oases for Child­like Play

Free Online Psy­chol­o­gy Cours­es

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Pico Iyer on “the Art of Stillness”: How to Enrich Your Busy, Distracted Life by Unplugging and Staying Put

Hav­ing known Pico Iyer for quite some time, on paper and in per­son, as a per­pet­u­al exam­ple and occa­sion­al men­tor in the writ­ing of place, it delights me to watch him attract more lis­ten­ers than ever with the talks he’s giv­en in recent years, the most pop­u­lar of which advo­cate some­thing called “still­ness.” But at first I won­dered: did this shift in sub­ject mean that Iyer—a Cal­i­for­nia-grown Brit from an Indi­an fam­i­ly who most­ly lives in Japan (“a glob­al vil­lage on two legs,” as he once called him­self), known for books like Video Night in Kath­man­duFalling off the Map, and The Glob­al Soulhad put his sig­na­ture hard-trav­el­ing ways behind him?

Hard­ly. But he did start telling the world more about his long-stand­ing habit of rou­tine­ly seek­ing out the most qui­et, least “con­nect­ed” places he can—the sea­side no-speech-allowed Catholic her­mitage, the rur­al vil­lage out­side Kyoto—in order to reflect upon the time he has spent cir­cling the globe, trans­pos­ing him­self from cul­ture to alien cul­ture. “24 years ago, I took the most mind-bend­ing trip across North Korea,” he tells us, “but the trip last­ed a few days. What I’ve done with it sit­ting still—going back to it in my head, try­ing to under­stand it, find­ing a place for it in my thinking—that’s last­ed 24 years already, and will prob­a­bly last a life­time.”

If we want to fol­low Pico’s exam­ple, we must strike a bal­ance: we must process the time we spend doing some­thing intensely—traveling, writ­ing, pro­gram­ming, lift­ing weights, what have you—with time spent not doing that some­thing, a pur­suit in its own way as intense. He con­nects all this with the 21st-cen­tu­ry tech­nol­o­gy cul­ture in which we find our­selves, cit­ing the exam­ple of folks like Wired co-founder Kevin Kel­ly and even cer­tain enlight­en­ment-mind­ed Googlers who reg­u­lar­ly and rig­or­ous­ly detach them­selves from cer­tain kinds of mod­ern devices, going “com­plete­ly offline in order to gath­er the sense of direc­tion and pro­por­tion they’ll need when they go online again.”

Achiev­ing such a prop­er intel­lec­tu­al, psy­cho­log­i­cal, social, and tech­no­log­i­cal com­part­men­tal­iza­tion in life may seem like a rare trick to pull off. But if you ever doubt its pos­si­bil­i­ty, just revis­it the last talk from Pico we fea­tured, in which he describes his encounter with Leonard Cohen, the only man alive who has suc­cess­ful­ly com­bined the lifestyles of rock star and Zen monk.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Best Writ­ing Advice Pico Iyer Ever Received

Pico Iyer on “The Joy of Less”

How Leonard Cohen’s Stint As a Bud­dhist Monk Can Help You Live an Enlight­ened Life

Col­in Mar­shall writes on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A Day in the Life of Zen Monk Leonard Cohen: A 1996 Documentary

I don’t think any­body real­ly knows why they’re doing any­thing. If you stop some­one on the sub­way and say, “Where are you going — in the deep­est sense of the word?” you can’t real­ly expect an answer. I real­ly don’t know why I’m here. It’s a mat­ter of “What else would I be doing?” Do I want to be Frank Sina­tra, who’s real­ly great, and do I want to have great ret­ro­spec­tives of my work? I’m not real­ly inter­est­ed in being the old­est folksinger around. 

- Leonard Cohen, speak­ing to author Pico Iyer in April 1998

 

One need not have lived a rock n’ roll lifestyle to be famil­iar with its plea­sures and pit­falls. That heady mix of drugs, sex, and pub­lic adu­la­tion isn’t sus­tain­able. Some can’t sur­vive it. Some retire to a more staid domes­tic scene while oth­ers are left chas­ing a spot­light that’s unlike­ly to favor them twice. But rarely do you find one who choos­es to give it all up to become a Bud­dhist monk.

Well, not all.

As direc­tor Armelle Brusq’s 1996 doc­u­men­tary, above, shows, singer-songwriter—and yes—Zen monk Leonard Cohen’s rou­tine at the Mount Baldy Zen Cen­ter out­side Los Ange­les extend­ed beyond the usu­al mind­ful­ness prac­tice. His sim­ple quar­ters were out­fit­ted with a com­put­er, print­er, radio, and a Tech­nics KN 3000 syn­the­siz­er. He some­times doffed his robes to enter the record­ing stu­dio or enjoy a bowl of soup at Canter’s Deli. Com­par­a­tive­ly, his world­ly attach­ments were few, divvied between the pro­fes­sion­al­ly nec­es­sary and the fond. Still, call­ing his daugh­ter, Lor­ca, to pass along a veterinarian’s update, Cohen sounds every inch the dot­ing Jew­ish dad.

Celebri­ty devo­tion to Kab­bal­ah or var­i­ous East­ern spir­i­tu­al prac­tices often stinks of the super­fi­cial, a pass­ing fan­cy that won’t last more than a year or two. Cohen’s rela­tion to Zen Bud­dhism is endur­ing, a gift from his long­time friend and teacher, Mount Baldy’s Roshi, Kyozan Joshu Sasa­ki, who died last year at the age of 107.

One of Cohen’s respon­si­bil­i­ties was help­ing Roshi with the myr­i­ad small details the elder­ly abbot would have had dif­fi­cul­ty nav­i­gat­ing on his own. Cohen seems entire­ly at peace in the road­ie role, keep­ing track of lug­gage while on tour, and fetch­ing cones for the entire par­ty from a near­by ice cream truck.

The poem Cohen penned in hon­or of Roshi’s 89th birth­day is of a piece with his most endur­ing work. Think Suzanne’s oranges were the only fruit? Not so:

His stomach’s very hap­py

The prunes are work­ing well

There’s no one left in heav­en

And there’s no one going to hell

Film­mak­er Brusq is chiefly con­cerned with doc­u­ment­ing Cohen’s spir­i­tu­al real­i­ty, but she toss­es in a few treats for those hun­gry for pop iconog­ra­phy, par­tic­u­lar­ly the impromp­tu show-and-tell at the 25-minute mark, when the crew peeks into the leg­end’s mem­o­ra­bil­ia-filled LA office.

The sound­track, too, is music to a Cohen fan’s ears, and lyri­cal­ly inspired giv­en the sub­ject:

Wait­ing for The Mir­a­cle

Teach­ers

A Thou­sand Kiss­es Deep 

Democ­ra­cy

The Future

Suzanne

Dance Me to the End of Love

Clos­ing Time

Nev­er Any Good

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Leonard Cohen’s Stint As a Bud­dhist Monk Can Help You Live an Enlight­ened Life

Leonard Cohen Nar­rates Film on The Tibetan Book of the Dead, Fea­tur­ing the Dalai Lama (1994)

Ladies and Gen­tle­men… Mr. Leonard Cohen: The Poet-Musi­cian Fea­tured in a 1965 Doc­u­men­tary

200 Free Doc­u­men­taries Online

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Hap­py 18th birth­day to her favorite for­mer­ly-17-year-old play­wright! Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Watch President Obama Sing “Amazing Grace” at the Funeral of Clementa Pinckney

It was quite a week for Pres­i­dent Oba­ma. On Mon­day, we all got to hear the reveal­ing inter­view Oba­ma record­ed in the Los Ange­les garage of come­di­an Marc Maron. Mid­week, the Supreme Court reject­ed the lat­est legal chal­lenge to the Afford­able Health­care Act, his sig­na­ture piece of leg­is­la­tion. Now on Fri­day — the same day that Oba­ma wel­comed the court’s land­mark deci­sion on gay mar­riage — the Pres­i­dent solemn­ly presided over the funer­al of Clemen­ta Pinck­ney, one of the nine African-Amer­i­cans mur­dered in a Charleston church last week.

You can watch his eulo­gy above in its entire­ty, but we’re fast for­ward­ing to the end, when, rather unex­pect­ed­ly, the pres­i­dent led the con­gre­ga­tion in singing Amaz­ing Grace, a Chris­t­ian hymn writ­ten in 1779 by John New­ton. In an iron­ic his­toric foot­note, New­ton was the cap­tain of Eng­lish slave ships and wrote the spir­i­tu­al song when his ship, buf­fet­ed by a storm, near­ly met its demise. This marked the begin­ning of a spir­i­tu­al con­ver­sion for New­ton, dur­ing which he remained active in the slave trade. Only years lat­er did he repent and focus his ener­gy on abol­ish­ing slav­ery. He would write ‘Thoughts upon the African Slave Trade,’ an influ­en­tial tract that “described the hor­rors of the Slave Trade and his role in it.”

Like many things, the descen­dants of slaves took the good from “Amaz­ing Grace” and made it their own.

Note: the singing starts at the 35:20 mark if you real­ly need to move things along.

Fol­low us on Face­book, Twit­ter, Google Plus and LinkedIn and  share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

via Moth­er Jones

Relat­ed Con­tent:

1.5 Mil­lion Slav­ery Era Doc­u­ments Will Be Dig­i­tized, Help­ing African Amer­i­cans to Learn About Their Lost Ances­tors

Pres­i­dent Oba­ma Chats with David Simon About Drugs, The Wire & Omar

Visu­al­iz­ing Slav­ery: The Map Abra­ham Lin­coln Spent Hours Study­ing Dur­ing the Civ­il War

Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es

The Psychology of Messiness & Creativity: Research Shows How a Messy Desk and Creative Work Go Hand in Hand

Emin-My-Bed

You may have come into con­tact at some point with Tracey Emin’s My Bed, an art instal­la­tion that repro­duces her pri­vate space dur­ing a time when she spent four days as a shut-in in 1998, “heart­bro­ken”: the bed’s unmade, the bed­side strewn with cig­a­rettes, moc­casins, a bot­tle of booze, food, and “what appears to be a six­teen year old con­dom”…. If you were savvy enough to be Tracey Emin in 1998—and none of us were—you would have sold that messy room for over four mil­lion dol­lars last year at a Christie’s auc­tion. I doubt anoth­er buy­er of that cal­iber will come along for a knock-off, but this doesn’t mean the mess­es we make while slob­bing around our own homes are with­out their own, intan­gi­ble, val­ue.

Those mess­es, in fact, may be seedbeds of cre­ativ­i­ty, con­firm­ing a cliché as per­sis­tent as the one about doc­tors’ hand­writ­ing, and per­haps as accu­rate. It seems a messy desk, room, or stu­dio may gen­uine­ly be a mark of genius at work. Albert Ein­stein for exam­ple, writes Elite Dai­ly, had a desk that “looked like a spite­ful ex-girl­friend had a mis­sion to destroy his work­space.” Ein­stein respond­ed to crit­i­cism of his work habits by ask­ing, “If a clut­tered desk is a sign of a clut­tered mind, then what are we to think of an emp­ty desk?”

Mark Twain also had a messy desk, “per­haps even more clut­tered than that of Albert Ein­stein.” To find out whether the messi­ness trait’s rela­tion to cre­ativ­i­ty is sim­ply an “urban leg­end” or not, Kath­leen Vohs (a researcher at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Min­neso­ta’s Carl­son School of Man­age­ment) and her col­leagues con­duct­ed a series of exper­i­ments in both tidy and unruly spaces with 188 adults giv­en tasks to choose from.

Vohs describes her find­ings in the New York Times, con­clud­ing that messi­ness and cre­ativ­i­ty are at least very strong­ly cor­re­lat­ed, and that “while clean­ing up cer­tain­ly has its ben­e­fits, clean spaces might be too con­ven­tion­al to let inspi­ra­tion flow.” But there are trade-offs. Read about them in Vohs’ paper—“Phys­i­cal Order Pro­duces Healthy Choic­es, Gen­eros­i­ty, and Con­ven­tion­al­i­ty, Where­as Dis­or­der Pro­duces Cre­ativ­i­ty.” And just above, see Vohs’ co-author Joe Red­den, Assis­tant Pro­fes­sor of Mar­ket­ing at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Minnesota’s Carl­son School of Man­age­ment, dis­cuss the team’s fas­ci­nat­ing results. If con­duct­ing such an exper­i­ment on your­self, it might be best to do so in a space that’s all your own, though, like the rest of us, you’re too late to cre­ative­ly turn the mess you make into lucra­tive con­cep­tu­al art.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Albert Ein­stein Tells His Son The Key to Learn­ing & Hap­pi­ness is Los­ing Your­self in Cre­ativ­i­ty (or “Find­ing Flow”)

Why You Do Your Best Think­ing In The Show­er: Cre­ativ­i­ty & the “Incu­ba­tion Peri­od”

John Cleese’s Phi­los­o­phy of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Cre­at­ing Oases for Child­like Play

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Umberto Eco’s Advice to Aspiring Writers

Umber­to Eco, now 83 years old, has some advice to pass along to the young.

In March, the Ital­ian semi­oti­cian, philoso­pher, lit­er­ary crit­ic, and nov­el­ist — and, of course, author of Fou­cault’s Pen­du­lum — pub­lished How to Write a The­sisIt’s a wit­ty, irrev­er­ent and prac­ti­cal guide for the stu­dent labor­ing over a the­sis or dis­ser­ta­tion. Josh Jones has more on that here.

Now, in a new­ly-released video from The Louisiana Chan­nel (a media out­let based in Den­mark), Eco turns his atten­tion toward aspir­ing writ­ers. And his wise coun­sel comes down to this: Keep your ego in check, make sure your ambi­tions are real­is­tic, put in the time and the hard work, and don’t shoot for the Nobel Prize in Lit­er­a­ture straight out of the gate. That, Eco says, kills every lit­er­ary career. He’ll also tell you that writ­ing is “10% inspi­ra­tion and 90% per­spi­ra­tion.” They’re tru­isms — you dis­cov­er when you’re an octo­ge­nar­i­an — that turn out to be true.

Find more tips for aspir­ing writ­ers below.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ernest Hem­ing­way Cre­ates a Read­ing List for a Young Writer, 1934

Ray Brad­bury Gives 12 Pieces of Writ­ing Advice to Young Authors (2001)

Toni Mor­ri­son Dis­pens­es Writ­ing Wis­dom in 1993 Paris Review Inter­view

John Steinbeck’s Six Tips for the Aspir­ing Writer and His Nobel Prize Speech

Stephen King Cre­ates a List of 96 Books for Aspir­ing Writ­ers to Read

Kurt Von­negut Gives Advice to Aspir­ing Writ­ers in a 1991 TV Inter­view

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Watch Lynda Barry’s Graduation Speech; Give a Shout Out to the Teachers Who Changed Your Life

The Uni­ver­si­ty of the Arts’ most recent grads are lucky ducks to have had a speak­er as engag­ing as car­toon­ist and edu­ca­tor Lyn­da Bar­ry deliv­er­ing their commencement’s keynote address.

Speak­er Bar­ry was also made an Hon­orary Doc­tor of Fine Arts, an award that occa­sioned the ill-fit­ting tam seen in the video above, as well as a new title—Doctor Nursey—conferred by pre-kinder­garten­ers with whom she works at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Wis­con­sin. (Pre­vi­ous alias­es include Pro­fes­sor Chew­bac­ca and Pro­fes­sor Old Skull)

Bar­ry kept things live­ly by mix­ing in some tried and true mate­r­i­al from oth­er pub­lic appear­ances, includ­ing her Fil­ipino grandmother’s belief in the aswang, a poem set to music (here “Cot­ton Song” by Harlem Renais­sance poet, Jean Toomer) and the sto­ry of the col­lab­o­ra­tive car­toon, “Chick­en Attack by Jack.”

This last anec­dote con­tains a strong indict­ment of con­tem­po­rary society’s screen addic­tion, and it is heart­en­ing to see the graduates—members of the last gen­er­a­tion to pre-date the Internet—listening so atten­tive­ly, no one tex­ting or tweet­ing as the cam­era pans the crowd.

When Bar­ry exhort­ed them to shout out the names of their three most inspir­ing teach­ers on the count of three, most did!

For me, this was the most thrilling moment, though I also appre­ci­at­ed the advice on the best time to sched­ule oral surgery, and a bliss­ful untruth about Ever­green State Col­lege’s appli­ca­tion process cir­ca the mid-70s.

Not your typ­i­cal com­mence­ment speech… those lucky, lucky ducks!

Read­ers, we invite you to get in the spir­it and cel­e­brate the Class of 2015 by “shout­ing” the names of your most inspi­ra­tional teach­ers in the com­ment sec­tion below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lyn­da Barry’s Won­der­ful­ly Illus­trat­ed Syl­labus & Home­work Assign­ments from Her UW-Madi­son Class, “The Unthink­able Mind”

Join Car­toon­ist Lyn­da Bar­ry for a Uni­ver­si­ty-Lev­el Course on Doo­dling and Neu­ro­science

John Waters’ RISD Grad­u­a­tion Speech: Real Wealth is Nev­er Hav­ing to Spend Time with A‑Holes

Robert De Niro Tells Grad­u­at­ing NYU Arts Grads, “You Made It… And You’re F*cked”

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Con­grat­u­la­tions, grad­u­ates, espe­cial­ly the mem­bers of NYC’s most fresh­ly forged the­ater com­pa­ny, Ras­cal Arts. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

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