No. For real. As the comic opens, Snagglepuss is a sucessful playwright living in 1953 New York City. With his beautiful wife, actress Lila Lion, on his arm he is the toast of the town. The only problem is that it’s all a facade. Despite being dressed to the nines the mountain cat has no clothes. It is quickly revealed that his marriage is an arranged scam of convenience, and Mr. Puss is more at home at Village haunts like the Stonewall Bar. There he can truly be himself, remove his mask and find comfort in the waiting arms of his Cuban boyfriend, Pablo. But even with this respite, the wolves are at the door: The Communist witchhunt of the House Un-American Activities Committee is well underway. The Rosenbergs have been executed. The American dream is just as much of a dark fable as the Tennessee Williams-esque play written by Snagglepuss that readers see in action. (One that comes complete with ennui-heavy dialogue like “desperate men turn hopes into wagers and dreams into lies,” so there’s more than just a little bit of Sam Shepard in Snaggle’s work too). Huckleberry Hound makes a too-brief appearance in the story’s back third, hopefully future issues will feature more of him and other characters from Hanna-Barbera’s roster as it would be fascinating to see them incorporated into Snagglepuss’ brave new comic world. As the issue wraps up, societal and social pressures tightening around Snagglepuss’ neck. It’s unclear exactly where Russell will take this bold story from here, but if history dictates one truth for Snagglepuss it’s this: It will be a long time before things get better. To see the enduring strength of his character play out in the issues ahead should give us all something much needed in these times — a character to cheer for whose humanity is greater than that of most.
