There are certain fears one has around growing older. As I’ve moved further into getting my B.A. for Creative Writing, the idea of having certain tastes becomes a bit taboo. I think of someone flagging me down and asking “What is your favorite book?” The weight of that response could impact how they see me for a minute or possibly years if I get stuck in the same classes. I probably could say something like Charles Jackson’s “The Lost Weekend” or Alice Sebold’s “The Lovely Bones” and earn their trust. Even then, will they judge me for picking books that are inherently out of date? Deep down I’ll wonder if they judge me for not having my eye on modern fiction, able to point out the authors leading my profession forward.
I say this because somewhere down the line, they’ll discover a “dark” secret about me. For all of the great books that I love, there is a certain corner of my mind that thrives on what is perceived as more sophomoric tastes. It’s where childish humor takes place, mixing puns and off-the-wall concepts that don’t make sense. Nuance is thrown out the window in favor of some innocence and wonder. There’s no way it could ever qualify as academia, and yet I need this in my hypothetical balance. To me, it’s an art form that serves a purpose. It’s downright necessary as a release, an escapism free of greater world drama.
I’m not talking about fantasy or sci-fi… or at least in the conventional sense. The author that I’m talking about is Dav Pilkey.
There have been few authors who I’ve stayed as up to date with as Pilkey, best known as the creator of Captain Underpants and Dog Man series. As the names would suggest, there is something gross and juvenile about them. The former series had whole books based around antagonists like Professor Poopypants and talking toilets. The latter has a half dog/half man protagonist who fights crime with a robot named 80-HD (it’s a play on words) and occasional appearances by Commander Cupcake. These are worlds populated with the absurd, fantasies that cater to the kid in all of us.
Pilkey is also an author who gets a lot of criticism because of his subjects. What is Captain Underpants but a place where one can revel in gross-out humor and adults being dimwits? So much exists free of real world reasoning. Is it encouraging children to participate in bad behavior? I guess in a very loose sense it is, but there’s a subversion to the author’s work that unfortunately goes overlooked, more likely to put it on lists of banned books than to appreciate the fact that Pilkey has done something that more pretentious authors couldn’t do. He managed to get a generation interested in reading without insulting them. This isn’t what adults want them to read, but what they want to read over and over, consuming every last piece of crazy art.
On some level, I get how more modern generations are likely to think that this isn’t true. While I am a big fan of Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017), the subsequent Netflix series plays into the worst predictions people had. While there are traces of kids exploring their creativity, the writers began to rely more and more on cruel gags and gross-out humor that some may find funny, but its bottom barrel lowbrow. When I saw a later season preview based around extensive vomiting gags, I knew that the show would never be a great expansion of the story. I don’t know how popular the series remains, but it’s definitely not enjoyable to me.
Which is a shame because there is a magic to Pilkey that I’ve personally recognized since I first read “The Adventures of Captain Underpants” sometime in the early 2000s. When you’re 11 and reading it, there’s something revolutionary about two kids (George Beard and Harold Hutchins) finding ways to control their curmudgeon principal and turn him into this ridiculous figure. It was a satire of comic book culture, finding an adult that should be the smartest man in the room act like a total buffoon. Slowly Pilkey incorporated the whole class environment and the series became something anticipatory. It was basically the imagination of a child who wanted to imagine his environment as being greater than it was, full of these strange little tweaks to the normal. Everything is based on that level of practicality, often stemming from their days drawing comics in a treehouse and desiring to bring their ideas to life.
Without drawing attention to the literary arts, Pilkey has found a way to create a love of language. The most obvious example came with “Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants,” a 2000 book that introduced a fan favorite in the villain. However, that’s only part of the story’s charm. The title has an impressive use of ‘P’ alliteration. The phrasing feels reminiscent of 50s sci-fi movies, relying on hyperbole and bold images to sell its absurd premise. To go into the actual text, one will find Pilkey’s love of language growing as he has a whole guide for readers to change their name based on an algorithm crucial to the plot. For example, the credits feature the author’s new name as “Gidget Hamsterbrains.” It may be a ridiculous use of phrasing, but it inspires readers to think of language as something abstract, able to be used outside of boring, academic contexts.
It would be one thing if Captain Underpants was the extent to Pilkey’s impressive work. While it’s likely to be his defining achievement, the Dog Man series that began in 2016 has this strange ability to “mature with the reader.” As much as a children’s series can do, Dog Man feels like Pilkey growing more ambitious and subversive in technique with every passing entry.
Gone are the straightforward misadventures, replaced with layers that in themselves challenge the reader to think about text and subtext. This is done by having the story presented through the lens of George and Harold, who often introduce the novel and comment on how they have grown more mature as writers. Even the titles have shifted to be puns on popular literature like “Brawl of the Wild” (Jack London’s “Call of the Wild”), “Fetch-22” (Joseph Heller’s “Catch-22”), and “Mothering Heights” (Emily Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights”). Are they beat-for-beat adaptations? No. However, the discussion of these books is present in these introductions. Various themes are woven into the plot, even having citations expand on literary techniques.
More so than Captain Underpants, Dog Man is viewed through the eyes of children. It’s evident in the artwork, which started a bit rugged and has slowly gotten more confident and cleaner. The writing reflects a growing control of voice. Yes, there’s still a lot of juvenile humor and gags that are completely absurd, but what’s clear is how the stories have slowly incorporated more and more a sense of maturity.
This is evident in “Grime and Punishment,” where villain Petey takes his clone son Lil Petey to his mother’s grave for a moment of reflection. It’s not the first time that Pilkey has incorporated a mature subtext, but it’s evidence of something more impressive. Petey’s arc has long been about determining if a bad man can be redeemed and ever be good. Lil Petey is more reflective of innocence, able to cut through any and all cynicism, desiring to break the generational bonds through heroic means. The most impressive part is how Pilkey makes it all work within a world that usually is filled with elaborate monster fights and sight gags involving Dog Man acting all-so-clearly like a dog.
If asked to determine who my favorite authors are, it would be difficult to not include Pilkey at least as an honorable mention. More than any other author, he’s someone who has taken classical form for literature and made it enjoyable. In fact, I personally believe he’s doing some of his best work in the past few years. What he does very well is introduce concepts that should seem boring (like alliteration and problem solving) and makes them appealing through crazy concepts. He makes reading interactive, using sequences like “Flip-O-Rama” where you flip pages to create active imagery, often related to fighting scenes. It’s a lot of fun, especially as he encourages readers to use their own voices for sound effects.
On a side note, another thing that has been fun about the Dog Man series is how he has fun with this concept. In the closing section of each book, he has a creative arts section. He has extensive “How to Draw” sections for various characters relevant to the story. He even has the equivalent of reader feedback by having a section where he encourages people to “Read To Your Dog.” It’s all a bit silly, but most of all it normalizes reading as a fun activity, where you can learn without feeling bored.
It helps that Pilkey’s bio says that as a kid, “he was diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia. Dav was so disruptive in class that his teachers made him sit out in the hallway every day. Luckily, Dav loved to draw and make up stories. He spent his time in the hallway creating his own original comic books - the very first adventures of Dog Man and Captain Underpants.”
It even shines through in more direct ways with his latest series Cat Kid Comic Club. It is a spin-off of Dog Man where Lil Petey encourages characters to tell their own stories. The first entry was a funny look into what was a “short story workshop” that started with brainstorming ideas and slowly came to be more fulfilling stories. Even in this ridiculous world, Pilkey has a loving acceptance of his readers, who must learn to take criticism and does so by pointing out strengths and ways to improve. It may be the silliest and least narrative-drive of the three series, but it only continues his goal of normalizing writing as an activity that his readers should take up, if just to tell whatever nonsensical story they have because, to Pilkey, no story is too crazy. The second in the series “Perspectives,” comes out on November 30.
It does become difficult to admit loving children’s authors because of what it says about you as an intellectual. After all, kids aren’t able to fully grasp complex themes like adults, exploring themes on such a level that even ambiguity can tear open an emotional wound. I love all of that and feel that it’s a valuable part of evolving as a reader. However, I think to ignore authors like Pilkey is to discredit where that inspiration starts. While I can see how some can find the bigger stories a bit silly and disposable, they are written with very smart intentions.
I’m glad to have grown up in an environment where there were popular books that validated the sense that English could be something greater than nouns and verbs. There was this capability to be imaginative, to embrace every tendency in your brain, and have it be a useful resource. Sure a lot of Pilkey’s charm is how he uses goofy humor to propel the narrative, but as I’ve pointed out there’s a lot more to enjoy as a reader.
I like to think that because of him, I have become a more interesting writer. As much as I love academia, I’m more a fan of trying to find subversive ways to be accessible, finding this balance between nonsense and deep purpose. Everyone on this planet has both aspects in their lives. Pilkey has found ways to grow along with me. While I have faded out of his demography almost 1.5 decades ago, he still speaks to some core part of me. I still laugh. Sometimes he even makes me self-reflective, especially with the Dog Man series. Whatever he ends up doing next, I’m excited to see. While I doubt there will be a university class dissecting his brilliance as a writer, I hope others are able to appreciate him as more than the guy who made Captain Underpants. He’s also the person who made writing into something greater. He made it feel relatable to the child in all of us.
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