Why THE QUITTER is going to KICK YOUR ASS

            So here’s the deal: The Quitter—written by Harvey Pekar and illustrated by Dean Haspiel (aka man_size)—is easily one of the most solid graphic novels I’ve read, bar none.

          Harvey Pekar, famous for his American Splendor comics, as well as the film about him that shares the same name, is not the everyman that most articles predictably and laboriously paint him as. How do you refer to somebody who’s been writing jazz reviews for forty years as an everyman? Or how about a guy who doesn’t get to be on Letterman anymore, since he turned the tables on the open mockery of him one too many times?
          I’ve read most of American Splendor, and I’ve enjoyed it, but it's rarely knocked me out. Don’t get me wrong, it’s some impressive stuff—the impression varying greatly with each artist who illustrates Pekar’s work—but it’s never been the sort of thing that I’d go out of my way to pick up regularly. The slice-of-life dialogue can really be killer, but it always felt a bit disjointed to me.
          Man, Quitter kicks the shit out of that little stereotype I’ve been nursing. The usual 90/10 dialogue/narration formula is flipped over as Pekar writes about his amazingly interesting early life, from the heady days of his being the best street fighter in his neighborhood, to his occasionally debilitating bouts of inadequacy and paranoia, to his countless jobs and week in the Navy. This is no longer “slice of life,” this IS life…a fucking interesting one.
          This is the kind of autobiographical stuff I can totally dig on, this is a guy going through and telling us his highs, his lows, and all with a detachment that’s not totally unemotional. When I finished, I felt like I had a way better grasp on Harvey Pekar, and a far more vast respect for him and his life.
          I feel bad enough that I’ve gone this far without mentioning that this is—near as I can tell—the best art I’ve ever seen out of Dean Haspiel, and that’s saying a lot. Easily the most impressive to me about this is that each panel isn’t just the usual “snapshot” art. Instead, each one threatens to keep moving if you take your eyes off of it. We’re talking Jack-Kirby’s-Captain-America-is-striding-towards-the-Red-Skull-and-somebody's-gonna- lose-an-eye kinda power here. His framing of movement is incredible, with some amazing three-panel-spreads that tug your eyes along with the text, the character, and the flow of the story.
          Haspiel pulls nice camera angles without making them feel forced, and keeps the background as alive as the main character. One panel I really loved is where we see a young Pekar in class, watching the teacher, and a girl to the side looking away, but not at Pekar. It’s like she’s sneaking a glimpse at some off-panel crush, and Haspiel’s letting us in on her secret.
          And the fights. A lot of this book comes down to fighting, where Pekar excelled, and was finally able to feel that he had accomplished something. His narrations of the schoolings are full of awesome, and Dino’s art…fuck, man, some of those punches made my goddamned jaw ache.

           Listen to me, wanking away like a fanboy, or worse, an actual critic. Ignore my noise, and just get out there and buy The Quitter.

           As for me, I think I’m gonna read it again.

 benjamin

(no subject)

A few short stories are kicking around in my head right now. My agent/my mama has a few sent off to some magazines and online publishers to see if my shit smells pretty enough to serve to others.

The new laptop is full of fine, and I'm working on getting it ready for a three-and-a-half day trip to Sedona, Arizona, where Sara's father is getting married. I've got about 22 hours to complete my work on it before we leave. I'll be using it to finish an edit for DrMaster and writing in my spare time. On the airplane. Which I hate. Time for the old "double whiskey with my Tourette's meds" trick to KNOCK MY ASS OUT.

I think one of the new stories is going to be a Fuck With My Art story, where I'll be asking you all to participate in rewriting/illustrating/putting-to-music/etcetera one of my shorts. This will be the third one I've done, and the results just keep gettting more and more The Awesome.

On a side note, I need more sleep. Or the ability to keep getting by on three hours a night without dying.

Back to work, with a quick break to read a little more Phillip K. Dick...

b

Short Short

    The guy in the corner wouldn’t shut up, even when the speakers crackled with the old woman’s voice.
    “Sections seven through nine, light misting," the ancient smoker rasped into her microphone. “Sections ten through eleven, decontamination. Section twelve, reprocessing. Sections thirteen through—“
    “I am El Negro Invincible!” proclaimed Mr. Shouty, drowning out the announcement of today’s treatment program. A kindly Korean minister stood up on the other side of the room, his bare feet slapping lightly on the steel floor as he walked across and punched him square in his white-ass nose.
    The prostitute-turned-banker laughed, her chains rattling against the metal wall. As soon as the minister looked over at her, she stopped and went back to leaning against her restraints. She had another forty-five minutes until they would give her a stool to sit on for a few seconds.
    “…Sections twenty-four through twenty-nine, mojitos. Sections thirty and thirty-one, pins and needles. This concludes today’s announcements.” She hacked something terrible out of her lungs, the microphone cutting off mid-removal.
    Almost immediately, our speakers began to play the delicate sounds of whalesong.
    “Shit,” moaned the car salesman, “they’re going to dump fish on us again.”

###

benjamin
Music: "I Do Not Want This" - NIN
Last Book I Read a Page of: A SCANNER DARKLY, Phillip K. Dick
Last Movie: Moolade (2004, Senegal, Drama)
Next Movie: COLOUR OF THE TRUTH (200?, HK, Cop v Criminal)