Mickey Mouse is so familiar that it is easy to forget he is a mouse. He is most recognisable in his red shorts, orange shoes and white gloves. His large ears, big eyes, small snout, retreating chin and stalky arms and legs have influenced generations of cinematic mice. But in the new animated short, Get a Horse!, Disney has decided to return their most famous character to his original incarnation. This early-style representation—smaller ears, beady eyes and more spindly appendages—is more mouse-like than at any time in the last 80 years.
Mice are common enough in the history of literature but since Mickey’s first appearance in 1928, more and more have had starring roles in television, cinema and graphic novels. These days we find cartoon mice of every conceivable variety: space mice, angel mice, devil mice, Rasta mice, mice detectives, mice chefs. The rise of the cartoon mouse over the past century has happened in parallel with a shift in our attitude towards animals more generally. In modern urban life the threat from pests like mice has been reduced. Perhaps because animals are less present in our daily lives, we are more likely to sympathise with them. Hence all the anthropomorphised cartoon animals.
But why mice, in particular? In his essay “Mickey Mouse meets Konrad Lorenz” published in the May 1979 issue of Natural History, the evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould examined Mickey Mouse’s transformations since his first appearance in 1928. Gould described several design alterations, including the gradual evolution of the black dots, which represented his eyes during the early years, into pupils surrounded by a much larger eye. He also noted similarities between several of Mickey’s distinguishing features and those of a newborn human.
In comparison to adults, a baby’s head is larger in proportion to its body and legs. The baby’s jaw is less prominent and its eyes larger. These features of the newborn—large head, big eyes, retreating chin—disappear as the baby grows up. But when these features are present in other animals, they can produce powerful emotional responses that evoke our innate affection for newborns.
Gould’s description of 1979-era Mickey—large head, big eyes, smaller jaw and pudgy legs–serves just as well for other iconic mice: Jerry, Speedy Gonzales, Despereaux. By bearing a resemblance to infant humans, these carefully—perhaps even scientifically—constructed mice evoke ideas of innocence, vulnerability and crucially, sympathy.
Mice naturally fit into the sentimental niche of the underdog—but they are also conveniently very cute. Small and powerless, mice are obvious metaphors for humans at their most innocent and vulnerable. The mouse, the perennial underdog, ushers in stories of perseverance and tenacity, which are the stories we want to tell our children.
Still, cartoon studios’ struggle to create ever-cuter mice has led to a plague of unpleasantly saccharine creations. Let us hope we have reached the peak of this cuteness epidemic. In this context, Disney’s decision to resurrect the original Mickey is a welcome move. When popular culture is constantly telling us that beauty and youth are essential to happiness, realism feels like a rebellion.