written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Saturday, 19 July 2025

Laugh To The Max

Max was born in 1952. He was the creation of Pericle Luigi Giovanetti, a Swiss draughtsman, painter and illustrator of Italian and French parentage, born in Basel during the First World War. 

Among Giovanetti's earliest commissions were some cartoons which were published in 1951 in the British satirical magazine Punch. These were soon followed by the artist's defining creation, the wonderful Max, a marmot and the main character in a series of homonymous comic strip adventures, published initially in Punch but soon to break out into the wider world.

Max the Marmot by Pericle Luigi Giovanetti
Max was based on Giovanetti's love of the European marmot, then to be found in the hill country of his native Switzerland. (I don't know if there are any left... that could be a poem: 'Are There Still Marmots In Switzerland?') The illustrator depicted his anthropomorphic marmot in a steady stream of witty and wordless cartoons which soon became best-selling books the world over, for Max's humorous mis-happenings transcend the barriers of language, and have amused and delighted children and adults alike for generations now..

I still have a slightly marmot-eared copy of 'The Penguin Max', dated 1962, in which, across a succession of double-page spreads, good-natured but accident-prone Max engages in adventures ranging from four to a dozen story frames, all of which are beautifully sketched and very funny. 

My favourite is probably the strip in which Max writes a letter. I've had to reduce the scale of the scan to fit the blog, but you can probably click on the image to enlarge it and linger over the exquisite detail in each frame. 

Max writes a letter
I'm down south for the week-end, celebrating my elder daughter's birthday, looking through old family photographs and enjoying some time with my grandson, who is now walking. He's the happiest little fellow and a reminder that laughter  (a proper chortle in his case) arrives quite early in a child's development. He's not eighteen months old yet, but clearly finds all sorts of things funny, as did my elder daughter when she was at an even younger age (see below). Happy birthday. 

my elder daughter (and her mum) circa 1987
Today's poem is a steal and an extension from a joke doing the rounds on social media at the moment (for all poets are magpies). It's a marker of the times and an ode to paranoia.

Laughter
This evening I arrived home
to find the wifely one
sitting in the kitchen in the dark
nursing a large glass of white wine.

'Bad day?' I enquired solicitously.
'Not so loud', she replied sotto voce.
'Why are you whispering?' I asked.
Nervously, she enunciated softly

'Alexa reports on everything we say.'

I laughed, but my wife scowled.
The idea of Zuckerberg, Elon Musk,
some Chinese spies or Russian bots
monitoring suburban British houses!
 
Then I swear that Alexa laughed quietly, 
Siri, Telegram and Tik-Tok all chortled,
the refrigerator shook with silent mirth,
our kettle, microwave and toaster giggled.

Coincidence? The wifely one poured
another large glass and looked at me
with horrified eyes, while on the drive
the Tesla flashed its headlights twice

and somewhere nearby in the night 
a neighbour's TV chuckled like Muttley.

            

Thanks as ever for reading my stuff, S ;-)

12 comments:

terry quinn said...

I have to confess that I've never heard of Max.
Lovely photo.
That's a very good poem.

Stu Hodges said...

I never came across Max, but he reminds me a little of Gulliver Guinea-Pig, whose cartoon strips I used to enjoy as a child. That's a lovely mother and daughter photograph. And the poem is actually quite scary.

Sahra Carezel said...

Max looks delightful and funny. I've just ordered a copy (French publication...but it's the pictures that count). That's a beautiful photo of your wife and daughter. I loved the clever poem.

Anonymous said...

I came across marmots when we drove the Grossglockner Pass in Austria. Seeing a large wooden marmot carving pointing to a large chalet style shop, we stopped for a coffee, and perhaps, some marmot souvenirs as change from cowbell keyrings. There certainly were some of these - but not those we anticipated. The 3 or 4 shelves were stacked with jars and pots of lotions and salves, all made from the fat if marmots and proclaiming their efficacy in healing sores, dry skin and chapped lips. Perhaps this may be why this lovely little creature is so hard to spot.

Charlotte Mullins said...

"a slightly marmot-eared copy" made me smile, as did the cartoon.

Adele said...

Bth my new laptop anf new Smart oven have QR codes but I won't be activating them Steve, they'll only laugh at me!! Haha

Jacky said...

A beautiful family picture and a very clever poem that made me laugh but also scared me a bit. Im sure my mobile listens into conversations. The thought of it starting to chortle is very spooky!

Seb Politov said...

"Just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not out to get you!"

Dan Ewers said...

Wordless comedy , like silent movies - priceless laughs. Funny poem, nicely done.

Debbie Laing said...

Max seems like a charming little creature. I enjoyed your funny poem.

Brizette Lempro said...

Thank you so much. My family had the Max books and we used to love them as children. Happy memories. What a beautiful photograph of your wife and daughter. It's a clever and disturbing poem.

Martin Brewster said...

I never encountered Max before (or the work of Giovanetti) but what a charming creation. I laughed at your poem as well. Very good. 😃