D.C. Heath, Purveyor Of Disney Books Par Excellence

Carl Barks didn't get to sign his comics, and his readers referred to his stories as the ones "drawn by the good artist."

I had the same exact feeling about the D.C. Heath Walt Disney Story Books.

The first four were published in 1939: Donald Duck and His Friends, Little Pig's Picnic and Other Stories, School Days in Disneyville, and Mickey Never Fails. By the time I got my hands on these books, they had been in and out of the school library hundreds of times and were a bit worse for the wear. But there was something about these books, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

(That's D.C. Heath on the right, by the way. I never knew what he looked like until this evening).

The drawings in the Heath books seemed to "pop." Something about them seemed so real... and so right. Being perhaps 5 or 6 at the time, I understood little about animation. But I sensed, and I'm betting hundreds of other kids did as well, that these were real Walt Disney drawings that made all the other books look like crude knock-offs... in the much the same way Carl Barks Duck stories made the non-Barks stories pale and uninteresting by comparison.

There was a simple explanation, of course: the art in the D.C. Heath books was not only prepared by the Walt Disney studio, but prepared on cels that were inked and painted just the way they were in the cartoons. (Most of them, anyway. D. C. Heath's Bambi doesn't use cels at all. And remind me to come back to Bambi some time.)


They weren't cels used in the features and shorts; they were cels made especially for the books. For once, the characters looked exactly right, exactly the way they did on the screen. For once, the color was nearly as vivid as an IB Tech print, something else I didn't know about back then. Some color films were just better than others.

And at a dollar a piece (Donald Duck And His Friends, the first in the series was 68 cents) and 100+ pages, these things must have flown off the shelves. Schools bought them because they were carefully sequenced in reading difficulty. Here They Are might have had a much more interesting title if its vocabulary had not been so severely limited. Donald Duck Sees South America, the most challenging title, is still just a bit beyond me.



My favorite was, and is, Mickey Sees The USA, which used the trailer last seen in the cartoon Mickey's Trailer (looks like a '36 Drayer and Hansen to me). Yes, a bit didactic at times, but when Mickey stops in Washington D.C., the President himself helps find the lost Pluto. After the President scolds Pluto, he asks something of Mickey, Minnie and Donald in return: "I want you to be my good-will messengers and carry my greetings to everybody in the United States. We have a wonderful country. But it's up to every one of us to make it still finer and better." Say, that guy could get elected today.

Every once in a while, a cel created for a D. C. Heath book goes up for auction somewhere. The last one I spotted was this one, the opening spread for Chapter 1 of Pinocchio.


This wasn't some book pretending to be Pinocchio, this book was Pinocchio. It still punches through 67 years of yellowing in my copy.