The Riddle of the Runaway Sphinx

 

Today’s story is “The Riddle of the Runaway Sphinx.” Written by Michael T. Gilbert and drawn by Stephen DeStefano.

David Gerstein in his landmark essay on Disney Comics, “Disney Comics Back to Long Ago” mentioned this tale as a memorable entity. I won’t dispute his judgment. It is certainly a striking story. But first some background musings.   

One striking aspect of these early headliner stories is the exotic locales. First, Venice, and now Egypt has made Mickey into the mouse version of Tintin. It is not a far departure from the Gottfredson strip. Mickey in his serials travelled to the deepest jungles of Africa, ventured into fictional Middle Eastern principalities, and sailed across the seven seas. The Adventures line clearly wanted to make sure readers understood that life was thrilling for Mickey.  So why does this raise a nagging question?

The question of finances regarding a funny animal comic might be digging deeper than the artist/writer intended. Obviously, the first missile would be: It is a comic meant for children. Quit seeing something in nothing. Sometimes the curtains are just blue. As a former English major, it might be surprising to hear that I, at times, find the need to overanalyze to be a flaw of the discipline. Yet, it is worth asking: do Mickey’s finance matter to the story? And, by extension, his character and the understanding of said persona.

As for this story; no, finances don’t matter. Mickey and Goofy are in Egypt. Period. None of the postcards are available for purchase so a large bank account can’t buy nonexistence. Goofy has no problem buying the barrels of oil so some level of finance is bankrolling the trip. The story doesn’t need explanation to work.

The answer regarding his finance is complicated by Mickey’s Meta existence. We know Mickey as the leader of a corporation, no, a conglomerate. The term, the Mouse, is regularly used as a euphemism for Disney itself. He is known for good cheer, expensive tickets, and copious merchandise (of which I have purchased much). The concept that Mickey could be middle class or even poor seems artificial. Yes, the comic and actor Mickey are separate from the park Mickey (though there has been overlap from his birth) but the Mickey that loses everything in the stock market (an event in the 1930s­) and has to become a plumber’s helper seems hard to swallow in 2020. The Three Musketeers movie has Mickey, Donald, and Goofy as poor janitors but it is a light satire piece, clearly inspired by the concept of the trio as paid actors. We know each Mickey exists in their own universe but we also consume all the Mickeys.

Mickey is universally described as a cheerful, determined, underdog. Gottfredson viewed him, “as a Chaplin Mouse against the world.” Financial security might cut away at that image. Unlike Scrooge McDuck, whose personality of being smarter than the smarties, makes up for his Croesus wealth, Mickey’s persona is more personable. Like Walt, he started as a farm boy who made it big in the big city yet kept his homespun values. Does Mickey having money change his basic appeal? I don’t think so. Mickey’s best stories, be them animated or comic, come from the tales that emphasize his best qualities of goodness and perseverance.

However, it is not like mentioning of finances is necessary for an adventure. The Sacred Jewel has Mickey borrowing a blimp from Captain Doberman on the basis of friendship. Plenty of adventures have Mickey exploring on behalf of a professor. Ultimately, it might be window dressing more than anything. But it is true that The Plumber’s Helper and The Monarch of Medioka have their plots launched by Mickey’s financial situation. In the long run, it is more imperative to have a great story but conversation is always entertaining.

Phew. I spent plenty of words discussing a relatively innocuous question. Onto the review!

The story starts with a panel in the shape of a postcard. Clever idea. Apparently, Minnie Mouse lives at 271 Sunshine Lane in Mouseton. (Time to send prank magazines!) Mickey and Goofy stop at a stand so Mickey can fulfill his promise to Minnie by buying a postcard. As he is doing that, Mickey asks Goofy to fill up the gas tank. The souvenir merchant charges $100 for a postcard due to supply and demand but explains Mr. Pettigreed charges much more. (You know with a last name like Pettigreed, I think a person has to become a villain. What chance do they have to be a hero?)

As Mickey ponders why a postcard tycoon needs machinery parts, Goofy proudly shows off the multiple barrels of oil he purchased. (Mickey, you have no one but yourself to blame. You know how Goofy operates). Mickey grumbles that he couldn’t buy a postcard and as they head over the sand dune, they come to the title page and the realization that someone stole the Sphinx! (Napoleon in legend only shot off the nose!)

By the way, the title page with the missing Sphinx is great art. The story is full of awesome artistry.

Mickey and Goofy drive up to see what it is happening only to run into a boastful detective whose design is Goofy with a mustache. In the grand Disney comics traditions of useless but egotistical law enforcement, the Great Inspector Ghufu can barely keep track of his magnifying glass much less find one of the world’s most famous landmarks. Mickey knowing this showcases his trademark determination to solve the crime.

Driving across the desert, they come across tire tracks and follow them to a suspicious glass bubble where our villains await: Pig-faced Pettigreed and the two-headed Doctor Doublecross (I love names in Disney comics). It turns out Pettigreed hired the mad doctor(s?) to steal the Sphinx. Why? Because apparently Pettigreed is pulling a Scrooge McDuck plot from “Lost Beneath the Sea” and collecting famous monuments to stash on a secret island to create his own national monument park.

Now I probably don’t need to explain how this wouldn’t work. Ignoring the obvious aspect that swiping such monuments as the Sphinx, the Statue of Library, the Eiffel Tower etc are nearly impossible but how will a tourist park work? I can buy the concept if he were to keep the island private but his mural displays a typical family enjoying the sites. He clearly wants to make a profit. His dialogue of “Early on, I learned that monopolies make the most money so I decided to create my own monopoly” suggests he isn’t in this for the art but the desire for cold hard cash. Hey, I am a big capitalist but I also know that stealing and displaying national monuments is not a sound business plan. Eventually, the powers to be are going to arrest him. On one level, I love his zany the plan is. It is Silver Age nonsense which is always enjoyable but when you play it straight, it tends to raise questions. I think it probably would have been better if Pettigreed was cut and Dr. Doublecross just stole the Sphinx for the science. But hey if you are going to be a villain, be memorable.

Speaking of Dr. Doublecross, the Disney comics editors actually try to keep their identity a mystery but any reader of Gottfredson work know the two-handed monster is Professor Doublex and Professor Ecks from the classic “Blaggard Castle.” I do appreciate the aura summoned by the editors in their attempt at playing naïve. The fused together duo are the best part of the story. Both heads have egos larger than the Sphinx and their bickering is just great especially as Pettigreed tries to halt it in vain.

Their route to fisticuffs runs into a roadblock as Mickey and Goofy crash the party in an epic entrance. I can only imagine how awesome this scene would be in animation. Dr. Doublecross reacts quickly enough hitting the start button that reveals the glass bubble is the control hub up top of the Sphinx which now has off road capabilities. 

Mickey and Goofy retreat to the jeep as Mickey takes the wheel (Steamboat Willie!) with the mobile Sphinx hot on their tail. That is what happens when you give the wrong answer to the Sphinx’s riddle.

Mickey realizes that Goofy’s extravagant purchase might actually prove useful and orders Goofy to reenact the Amoco Cadiz oil spill. As per the Law of Comedic Timing, the mechanical legs prove fruitlessly against the slippery power of black gold and comes to a crashing halt.

The authorities arrive to wrap up everything and, of course, Inspector Ghufu proves to be an Egyptian Casey and takes all the credit. Mickey is offered anything as a reward and settles for a postcard which he sends to Minnie and the comic ends on a sweet note with the recipient receiving the item.

Gerstein was right. It is one of the more memorable tales in the line all thanks to the artwork and the writing working well together. Really, there are only two quibbles. 1. The length is much too short. 12 pages is not enough. Give the story about 10 more pages with more room to breathe and I think the story doesn’t feel as rushed; it basically goes missing sphinx, villain exposition, chase, and resolution in the space of 5-6 pages. The Inspector is basically wasted. He appears once at the beginning and then just disappears until the end. His giant ego while hilarious doesn’t add anything. He doesn’t hinder the investigation or bring anything to the table. 2. Pettigreed is superfluous and as previously explained his plan makes little logical sense. Dr. Doublecross drives the action (pun intended) figuratively and literally. The doctors in Blaggard Castle did all kinds of crazy experiments just for the science. Why not just have them steal the Sphinx because they can/wanted to drive a new invention? Yeah, Pettigreed buying up all the postcards gets the ball rolling but you can still have another motivation to lure Mickey and Goofy to the missing sphinx.

Still, it is a fun story. Final rating: 1 ¾ Ears Up!

Next Up: An arch-villain seemingly triumphs in Mouseton!