I am pro him. I student directed a one act play he wrote - "Crawling Arnold" (1961) in High School and it won an award at state (actor).

Oh, Jules Feiffer. Memories, memories ...

I grew up in the late 50s/early 60s in an academic household and neighborhood, and Jules Feiffer cartoons were one of the standard signifiers of aspiration to intellectual hipsterdom for my parents and their friends--like the Eames chairs and the Klee prints and the bossa nova records and the Manhattans before dinner, all the props that made up (in my child's perception) the mysterious and not especially pleasant-seeming adult world. Those cartoons creeped me out to a degree, in fact--they weren't funny, I didn't get them, and they made me uneasy. But again, I was a small child at the time, and I should definitely go back and revisit them as an adult (considerably older now, in fact, than my parents and their friends were in their aspiring-to-intellectual-hipsterdom days...)

Man, Jules Feiffer. Like K-A said, memories, such memories. Like rainbaby said, I am pro-jf, but I am a little uneasy about his work. Can't help but love him all the same.
To be in a simpler time. Honestly, I would kill for that opportunity, I would.

I wrote this big long thing, then deleted it, I just don't know what to say. Not in a bad way, LT, I'm just not good with my words. Thanks, though. Really.

I wish I were better with my words.

Adore him! Feiffer ran in the Otis-era LA Times for years. Munro was made into a cartoon!.

Feiffer was someone I knew of vaguely because he was parodied (or at least mentioned) in MAD Magazine and Bloom County.

Genius, no question. Big big genius.

All I know about Jules Feiffer is that in college I was in the play Feiffer's People and I played Bernard Morgandeiler, kind of an everyman sad sack and the last scene (the play was a series of tiny vignettes, some no more than two or three lines long) was bedroom dialogue between Bernard and his lady love, during which Bernard breaks down and admits his impotence and ineffectiveness and general romantic lameness and it's all very bathetic (or I guess not, since the shift from the sublime to the ridiculous was very much intentional) but the actress playing opposite me (in a fluffy white bathrobe and wet hair, as if the conversation began in the shower and continued into the bedroom) was 19-year-old Lauren Graham and I found it, uh, difficult to concentrate and fell off the stage during one performance.

Jules Feiffer scarred me for life.