goodness. "Parent's house" appears twice, the only real flaw, other than
maybe excessive (very small) text. Otherwise, Chris
Ware's quest to correct for decades of action-heavy cartooning
with wholly original, imaginative, purposefully quotidian assaults on readerly
eyes and hearts continues. As always, amazing. Totally individuated art,
with nods to Proust
and Ozu and Perec's Life:
A User's Manual here and there.
Self-sufficient sci-fi layercake. First comes a pulpy outerspace adventure,
then it's all about how the young Rusty
Brown became interested in science fiction, finished with a sci-fi
textual short story by Rusty Brown. Not quite at the level of #18 or #20
but still wholly worth reading. Surprising: occasional tiny, sexually explicit/suggestive
images. Can see how some get tired of Ware's loveable losers. The girl
in #18, young Rusty in this one, and Jimmy
Corrigan are all sort of cut from the same Charlie
girl in #18, young Rusty, and Lint
all turn to art in response to a sense that the world's rejected them.
The graphic approach, more than the characters, is what does it for me.
This one seemed a bit more traditionally framed than the wholly Warean
cycling schematics of association in Lint and #18.
A self-contained ~80-page chapter from a "ridiculously long" work yet
to be finished or collected but serialized lately in these gorgeous full-color
hardcovers. This one presents representative days in the difficult life
from birth to death of a not-so-sympathetic Nebraskan fella, organically/inventively
structured and elaborated in Ware's particular visual language that allows
for so much association, imagistic representation of thought, and ultimately
a degree of empathy for the aforemention not-so-sympathetic fella. Amazing.
Read in a two-hour sitting. Highly recommended and probably infinitely
re-readable as is. The tightest, most sprawling, graphic novel ever? An
ideal expansion of Thomas McGuire's "Here"?
Forever after here
book of blurbs for books that don't exist.