I grew up with the misadventures of Hägar the Horrible, that bearded, rotund Viking of the daily comics pages. In our local newspaper, he appeared halfway down the left side, right near Beetle Bailey and The Wizard of Id. From the time I could read at the age of 3 to the day I moved to college at 18, I probably read him every day.
It was more out of convenience than loyalty. What else are you going to do over a morning bowl of cereal? I don’t know if Hägar still appears there, but I was able to revisit him in HÄGAR THE HORRIBLE: THE EPIC CHRONICLES — 1973 TO 1974.
Now as it was then, Hägar and his pals don’t strike me as funny — precious few comic strips ever have — but they are comforting. The pint-sized Eddie is still the scene-stealer; Hägar’s wife, Helga, remains an uppity bitch; and his daughter, Honi, is hot as ever, she of the ice-cream-scoop breasts separated by enough cleavage to fit in a couple more.
Intros by cartoonist Brian Walker and two of Browne’s children shed some light on how the strip was born out of a medical malady. It’s amazing how much Hägar looks like Browne himself, as several photographs prove. With bold-lined art and half the words of competitors, he strip was an instant hit. It’s easy to see why, even if it never carved a home in your heart. —Rod Lott
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