|"...she endured the abuse and shame with admirable grace."|
I don't know what it is that fascinates me so much about the modest genre of humor comics produced in the 1950s and which rely so heavily on sexual harassment as a punchline. And a raison d'etre. And a modus operandi. And an avadra kedavra, for all I know.
|I see guys doing this on escalators all the time.|
ACG also boasted (or is that BUST-ed hahaha now I'm doing it) its Dizzy Dames title, previously written about in agog tones on this blog. Then there was also always Torchy and her many imitators, to name a couple. But for Stanhall Publications, this model was their bread-and-butter (or do I mean bread-and-BUST-er again goddamnit I'm doing it again), with ditzy-sex-object titles like G.I.Jane, Broadway-Hollywood Blackouts and The Farmer's Daughter...
"She was only the farmer's daughter, but she..." was the format of a series of salacious jokes back in the olden tymes, before people knew that jokes had to have a funny part somewhere. You can find examples of the form on the internet, and they range from the dad-joke ("...was outstanding in her field") to evidence in an assault trial ("...sure liked to get plowed!").
|Whoa, buddy, come on, that's your daughter!|
The comic book version of The Farmer's Daughter reiterates these and other spicy jokes in thin narrative frameworks with a stunted cast of characters, although the star of every episode remains slut-shaming and adolescent gawking. Supporting these are the titular ... or do I mean TI- no I mean eponymous, really ... daughter, Amy Dingle, her cockblocking old man Farmer Dingle, and Orville, Amy 's persistent suitor and a walking mountain with an IQ equivalent to the cost of a Forever Stamp.
The gags are effectively stationary - a travelling salesman comes by, attracts the attention of the hump-happy Amy, is pursued by the rockheaded Orville, or is threatened with the business end of a shotgun by Farmer Dingle's overfascination with his daughter's sex life.
|Whoa, lady, come on, that's your father!|
Every Farmer's Daughter story requires the presence of a male suitor of one form or another, in order to inflame Amy's passions and get her father to pry 'em apart with a shotgun. Fictional or not, there's the uncomfortable feeling of watching a dysfunctional family fighting that permeates the title. It's one thing to have a slightly sexy humor comic, but it's another thing altogether to watch a woman desperately cling to every passing stranger before her father comes running into the room, shouting, swinging a gun around. You wouldn't see shit that dark in a Cassavetes film.
At a handful of issues, The Farmer's Daughter -- and, really, the Stanhall line as a whole -- wasn't long for the world. This is probably for the best, because I'm not sure where a book is gonna go when it's got punchlines like this:
|Whoa whoa whoa mister ...|