Down with Skool--up with Searle

I was rooting around The Telegraph looking for news on the body found at Sandringham, when I came upon the very sad news of the death of Ronald Searle last Friday. The utterly brilliant cartoonist and illustrator was 91.

Searle had a wicked sharp artistic style, evident in all of his works; his wit was as sharp as his pen. In the inimitable British phrase, the guy could take the piss out of anyone and anything. As a teenager I became acquainted with his cartoons in Punch, and also his illustrations in the books on Nigel Molesworth. Down with Skool! is a classic, and I own How to Be Topp.

In case you are unfamiliar with him, Molesworth is not a recommendation for any education system. Searle seriously took the piss out of British schools in this series and the one on St. Trinian’s, a perfect horror of a girls’ school.

His title designs for the 1970 film Scrooge are gorgeous—as I was reminded when TCM ran the movie last month. The title sequence outstrips the live action in both evocative power and artistry. (I won’t speak of the musical score.) If you come across it, run through the titles and forget the rest of it.

And then, about 15 years ago, I went to the Imperial War Museum and saw his drawings of life in Japanese POW camps, where he spent three years in his early 20s. He had to sneak his sketches, because the Japanese didn’t allow any sort of documentation of the camps, and because the British officers took offense at them.

The drawings are searing, as well they should be.

That he lived so many years after that experience is a testament to the lessons he learned there—that when all your friends die around you, also in their 20s, every day is a gift.

 

Or maybe it’s that he spent the last 40 years of his life in France. The Guardian has a reminiscence by fellow cartoonist Gerald Scarfe of the friendship he formed with Searle. The established artist was generous with his attention and encouragement of younger illustrators.

And it seems that Searle just loved champagne and cats.

Really--we're all poorer for his loss; but I celebrate the wit and whimsy he brought to us.