Cardboard City

by Željko Obrenović, Nemanja Radovanović, Željko Vitorović

"All of these stories are intimate and personal and yet they express universal truths about the nature of humankind. They are full of apparent coincidences but I can state with some conviction that every instance of synchronicity is crafted with great purpose. I invite you, the reader, to explore the layers of meaning for yourself."
(David Hine, writer and comics script writer - Strange Embrace, Silent War, The Bulletproof Coffin, X-Men, Daredevil)

"He (Obrenović) is the mastermind behind this series of very well illustrated narratives and builds an authentic and autonomous artistic universe, with a whole team of artists, in a truly unusual and commendable way, one apparently known, but essentially relocated from boring reality."
Pavle Zelić, writer, comics script writer and critic

136 pages, ebook

First published January 1, 2016

About the author

Željko Obrenović je rođen 1982. godine u Valjevu. Diplomirao je na katedri za srpsku književnost na Filološkom fakultetu u Beogradu. Autor je scenarija za strip album Karton siti (Modesty stripovi, 2016), romana Kameno jezero (Kontrast, 2016), Talog (Booking, 2012) i Srpski psiho (Laguna, 2007). Pored pisanja, bavi se stripom i muzikom. Objavio je veliki broj filmskih i književnih prikaza (Gradina, Playboy, Pressing, Frenzy Spark, UPPS, Fresh McCann, City Magazine, Ona magazin); dobitnik je nagrade Ukademije umetnosti na konkursu U potrazi za novom pričom, kao i McCann Ericsonove nagrade za lice meseca. Roman Srpski psiho i priča Ko je ubio ljubav prevedeni su na poljski jezik. Priče su mu objavljene u Trećem trgu, Emitoru, Trashu, Zborniku radionice za pisanje poezije i proze, Art-Animi, Helly Cherryju, a strip Devojka slabog imuniteta u antologiji Balkan Twilight.

Reviews

[Kristijan · Rating 5 out of 5]

S:
Pisanje kratkih pripovesti bi moglo da se predstavi kao mač sa dve oštrice. Zbirke priča su siguran način da čitalačka publika iz mase onoga što je napisano i sabrano između korica jedne knjige izvuče ako ne sve onda barem nekoliko priča koje im se sviđaju. Sa druge strane, pisanje priča nije lak zadatak. Pisac mora na samo nekoliko stranica da sažme ono što bi neki skriboman "razvukao" na stotine i stotine strana, da upozna čitaoce sa svojim likovima (kako bi čitaoci uspeli da se povežu sa njima), da uvede problem samog kratkog dela i da na kraju da zadovoljavajući rasplet koji bi opravdao ili (daj bože) prevazišao horizont očekivanja čitalaca. Ne umeju svi da se dokažu u kratkometražnim književnim delima.

Stripovi (grafičke novele) pružaju odličnu mogućnost da se putem slika izbegne opisivanje i da čitaoci, vođeni rukom artwork majstora, klize pogledom niz nečije tuđe viđenje priče koju je zamislio scenarista. Strip scenarista ima neverovatno težak posao, jer limitiran okvirima strip-kadra mora da ograniči svoju misao, a opet da kaže ono što mu se mota po glavi, kako bi konačna celina imala svoj smisao. Kada uklopimo odličnog pisca sa odličnim crtačima dobijamo najbolju moguću varijantu mikrokosmosa koji je ogledalo teksta začetog u glavi scenariste. U takvom slučaju svaki kadar stripa sam za sebe postaje mikrokosmos spreman za apokalipsu - on čeka svoje otkrovenje pred čitaocima.

Željko Obrenović, zajedno sa malom armijom hrabrih crtača, upustio se u nešto veoma hrabro, a njihov zajedniči rezultat je apsolutno opravdao njihov trud. On je osmislio kratke priče, crtice iz ljudskih života i uobličio ih kroz crtačke poteze četiri vrsna ilustratora (N. Radovanović, Ž. Vitorović, G. Rus i M. Slipčević) dajući čitaocima uvid u prošlost, sadašnjost ali i neminovnu budućnost sveta koji je na granici da se samouništi zbog ljudskog ludila. Iako je četiri grafička umetnika radilo na ovoj strip-kolekciji, ne može se reći da ovo delo nije kompaktna celina. Nešto slično je urađeno sa Gejmanovom „Knjigom o groblju“ gde su različiti autori ilustrovali po jedno poglavlje. Ovih sedam Obrenovićevih priča deluju kao podeljena stvarnost - stvarnost glavnih junaka koji se bore sa nekim oblikom donkihotovskih vetrenjača, ali na kraju, kada se zaklope korice ovog strip-albuma, dobija se u glavi celina, čitava slika tog poluludog ali realnog univerzuma u kome živimo, gde su Obrenovićevi junaci u stvari obični ljudi koji možda svakodnevno prolaze pored nas na ulici.

"Karton siti" je priča koja zadire u neku alternativnu ali skoro pa realnu budućnost, u kojoj se svet deli na dve velesile: Kinu i Indiju, pri čemu one vode dobro znanu hladnoratovsku politiku Amerike i Rusije. U takvoj realnosti živi jedan obično neobičan detektiv/novinar (sa licem autora) koji biva unajmljen da istraži ubistvo svete krave koja je otelotvorenje ljubičastog čokoladnog sna. Iako je ovo svet u kome dve istočnjačke zemlje vode glavnu reč, sve uloge i potezi koji se vode su tekovine zapada. Ljubičasta krava ima dvostruku ulogu – kao religijski simbol i simbol masovne produkcije čokoladne mašinerije, a sa druge strane predstavlja krajnju kariku u evoluciji nakon koje se potire sve ono nesavršeno i zastarelo. Ova priča se čita i kao varijacija na čuveni film Romana Polanskog „Kineska četvrt“, kako i sam autor naglašava u stripu.

„Najbolji čovekov prijatelj je – pas“ govori o jednom noćnom pozivu – mladić koji je očajan zbog nesrećne ljubavi (stoji na ivici i spreman je na skok) poziva svog najboljeg prijatelja koji mu deli savete. Interesantno je da oba lika poprilično liče – s tim što je jedan u mraku a drugi pod nekim vidom osvetljenja pa je nemoguće tačno utvrditi da li su to možda braća, ili je to jedna osoba („Fight club“ deluje kao moguća inspiracija). Ova priča obiluje mnoštvom kulturoloških i intertekstualnih aluzija. Interesantna je vivisekcija Joksimovićeve pesme „Mišel“ (priznajem da sam prvo pomislio na pesmu Bitlsa) koja pomalo podseća na vivisekciju Madonine pesme „Like a virgin“ koju nudi čuveni Kventin Tarantino u kultnom filmu „Ulični psi“. Odlično su iskorišteni kadrovi iz filmova „Fallen“ (za hiperlink sa ovim filmom autor je zaradio jednu bonus zvezdicu) i „Natural born killers“, a interesantna je ta kvazi-ravnoteža postignuta sa aktuelnim srpskim TV zvezdama, npr. Marija Šerifović i već pomenuti Joksimović (priznajem da onu drugu osobu na TV-u nisam prepoznao jer slabo pratim dešavanja na domaćoj sceni koja nemaju veze sa književnošću). Nešto slično će autor iskoristiti i u muzičkoj podlozi priči „Smrt je kliše“. Iz naslova se može zaključiti kakav može biti završetak priče – živimo u vučjim vremenima: čovek je čoveku vuk (ponekad i sam sebi), a najbolji čovekov prijatelj ostaje pas...

„Muzej đubreta“ donosi neverovatno dobru priču upakovanu u žestoko moćan artwork. Obrenović nam donosi uvid u ono što može da se dogodi čoveku ukoliko ne počne da razmišlja ekološki. Zajedno sa parom koji razmišlja o budućnosti, šetamo parkom u kome se po travi nalaze relikti potrošačkog društva – đubre koje nikom ne treba, ali koje deluje poput okidača za prošlost. Poput Prustovih madlenica, đubre izaziva vizije prošlosti i čini da se glavni akter sa toplinom seti nekih scena iz prošlosti. Kao kontrast svemu tome, akteri se na kraju pitaju da li će se u bliskoj budućnosti dogoditi obrnuta situacija – da će delići prirode izazivati topla i svetla sećanja u tami i hrpama smeća koje guta ceo jedan svet.

„Otrovnica“ je priča o predatoru i žrtvi sa pomalo očekivanim twistom, ali odličnom realizacijom crtača. Ova priča takođe kao da ima svoje poreklo u „Kineskoj četvrti“. Priča ovakvog kalibra bi komotno mogla da se nađe i na stranicama „Blica“ kao nešto što se stvarno dogodilo.

„Za tebe“ deluje kao romantična fantazija u stilu najboljih Musoovih romana. Glavni lik (ponovo sa licem autora) dobija pismo od samog sebe sa tri rečenice – uputstva, koje će ga odvesti do sigurne luke i priče sa hepiendom, a kao što i sam autor kroz usta svog alter ega kaže, priča je ono što mi, deca potrošačkog društva, u stvari kupujemo. Ovo je neverovatno šarmantna priča i nešto što bismo svi voleli da doživimo – deluje poput sna letnje noći. Možda je ovo samo reklama za neki alternativni život koji bi čovek mogao da ima, ili alternativni život u paralelnoj dimenziji... u svakom slučaju ova lepršava priča deluje poput oaze u pustinji besmisla i prevare.

„Smrt je kliše“ nas vraća u krizno doba devedesetih, gde prisustvujemo pokušaju mladog bračnog para da se konačno skući. Sve što imaju nije novo – stan je nasleđen, stvari u njemu su korištene,... i oni pokušavaju na crno da nabave poslednju stvar koja im treba za normalan život – frižider (koji bi, kada bi umeo da govori, mogao da ispriča mnogo toga ružnog). Glavni likovi su deca grandža i njih spaja ta muzika koja je potekla iz bunta, očaja,... Dok putuju kući slušaju radio – prebacujući radio stanicu sa narodnjačkog šunda na sigurnu luku alternativnog grandža, jedna vest sa radija menja sve... Obrenović u ovoj kratkoj priči, između ostalog, govori o neraskidivosti ljubavi i straha. Kada nestane vere u bolju budućnost i kada padnu idoli novog poretka koji nam govore da nismo sami – tada je strah od sigurne propasti opipljivo jak i nastupa strah od gušenja niskobudžetnim i jeftinim kulturološkim surogatima. Nastupa paraliza duha i apsolutni krah svega lepog i dobrog. Tada ljubav prestaje da bude radost, a život prestaje da bude vrednost. Jedini izlaz jeste pročišćenje – vatrom.

„U ime oca“ čitaoce intertekstualno podseća na remek-delo Džima Šeridana, sa kojim labavo deli glavnu nit – pokušaj sina da ispravi nepravdu nanetu ocu. Obrenović nas u ovoj, završnoj, priči prebacuje u I svetski rat, i kroz priču o pištolju (aluzija na film „Meksikanac“) priča i priču o dugu koji se mora naplatiti, o osveti koja se servira hladna. Kao što je na početku ove grafičke zbirke primetio Dejvid Hajn, pojavljivanje pištolja mora nužno da dovede do pucnja (ali i ubistva). U prethodnih šest priča završetak nije kristalno jasno dat – krajnji kadar ostavlja mogućnost promene, iako je ta promena realno nemoguća. U ovoj poslednjoj priči, konačni rez je nedvosmislen - pucanj je završni čin ove Obrenovićeve grafičke zbirke.

U „Karton sitiju“ Obrenović oslikava svet onakav kakav jeste – brutalno iskreno, bez šminke i ružičastih filtera. Autor često počinje od klišeiziranih književnih slika: privatni detektiv usred dvostruke igre, ljubavni trougao, ostavljeni i prevareni, predatori i žrtve,... ali u ključnom momentu on počinje da isprobava granice dotičnih klišea. Obogaćujući svoje priče različitim kulturološkim i intertekstualnim referencama postiže dubinu teksta, a britkošću svojih rečenica i oštrim hirurškim rezovima na kraju svake celine pokušava da uradi vivisekciju naše bolesne stvarnosti. U vremenu kada svaka priča pomalo liči jedna na drugu i kada je život lep samo onda kada se sećamo nekih sigurnijih luka i svetlijih dana, autor nam poručuje da bez budućnosti i (lične) evolucije sve gubi smisao. A mi smo budućnost. Trebalo bi da nas je strah!

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Writing short stories could be easily described as risky business. It might seem that it is the safest way for writers to publish something, because the readers might like the whole collection of short stories or just some parts of it – it is less likely that the whole collection would be a flop. On the other hand, writing a short story is not an easy task. Being limited to only a few pages, the writer must “compress” something that a scribomaniac would “stretch” over hundreds and hundreds of pages. The writer also has to introduce the characters properly (so that his readers would be able to bond with them), to introduce the “problem” of the short story and to lead the story to a satisfactory ending that would justify or (with God’s or someone else’s help) go beyond the readers’ horizon of expectations. Not all writers are good at writing short stories...

Comics (graphic novels) provide an excellent opportunity to avoid excessive descriptions by using images and the readers, guided by the hands of comic artists, can easily dive into artistic visions of the stories conceived by writers. Comic writers have an incredibly difficult job, because by being limited by a frame of a comic book image, they must limit their thoughts and yet to say what's going through their heads, so that the final outcome would have its own meaning. When an excellent writer is paired up with excellent comic artists we get the best possible variation of a microcosm which is the mirror of the text conceived in the head of the writer. In such a case, each comic book frame becomes a microcosm itself, ready for the apocalypse - awaiting its revelation from the readers.

Željko Obrenović, together with a small army of brave comic artists, started something very courageous, and the result of their joint work has absolutely justified their efforts. Obrenović created short stories, sketches of human lives, which were shaped by the drawings of four skillful illustrators (N. Radovanović, Ž. Vitorović, G. Rus and M. Slipčević). These short comic stories give their readers insights into the past, the present or the inevitable future of the world, which is on the verge of self-destruction due to human madness. Even though four graphic artists worked on this comic collection, one cannot say that this work is not a compact whole. Something similar was done with the graphic version of Neil Gaiman’s “The Graveyard Book” where different artists illustrated different chapters of this fabulous story. These seven Obrenović’s stories can be seen as a split reality - the reality in which the characters are struggling against some kind of Quixotic windmills, but in the end, when the readers close this book, they have the whole picture in their heads. And this mental picture represents a half-mad but realistic universe in which we live, where Obrenović’s heroes are just some ordinary people who pass us by on the street.

"Cardboard City" is a story that delves into alternative or almost real future in which the world is divided by two superpowers: China and India, which are following the well-known Cold War policy shaped by America and Russia. This alternate reality is where a quite unusual detective / journalist (with the face of the author) lives. He is hired to investigate the murder of the sacred cow that embodies purple chocolate dream. Although this is a world in which two Eastern countries have the main roles, every character and every action is inherited from the West. The purple cow has a dual role – it is not only a religious symbol or a symbol of the mass production of chocolate machinery, it also represents the final (perfect) link in evolution, which annihilated everything imperfect and obsolete. As the writer emphasized in the text of the comic, this story can be also read as a variation on the famous Roman Polanski film "Chinatown”.

"A Dog is a Man’s Best Friend" is about a night call - a young man, desperate because of his love problems, standing on the edge of a building ready to jump, is calling his best friend for some advice. It is rather interesting that both characters resemble each other – one is always in the dark and the other one under some kind of light, so it is impossible to accurately determine if they are brothers, or if it is actually the same person (Palahniuk’s “Fight club” crossed my mind as the possible inspiration for this comic). This comic is abundant with cultural and intertextual allusions. It contains an interesting vivisection of Željko Joksimović’s song “Michelle” (I have to admit that at first I thought that the guys are talking about the Beatles’ song… ) and this resembles a vivisection of Madonna's song “Like a Virgin” offered by the famous Quentin Tarantino in his cult film “Reservoir Dogs”. The use of scenes from the movies “Fallen” (this “hyperlink” absolutely blew my mind) and “Natural Born Killers” was fantastic for creating a quasi-equilibrium with the current Serbian TV stars, for example Marija Šerifović and aforementioned Joksimović (I admit that I did not recognize the other person on the TV because of my low interest in local "celebrities"). The writer created a similar equilibrium with the background music in the story “Death is a Cliché”. The title of this story speaks for itself, it dictates the way the story would end - we are living in dangerous times: a man is a wolf to another man (and sometimes even to himself) while a man's best friend can only be a dog...

"The Museum of Trash" is an incredible story with amazing artwork. Obrenović gives his readers a glimpse of what can happen to mankind if people don’t start thinking environmentally. Together with a couple who is thinking about the future, the readers are walking through a park with scattered relics of the consumer society (rubbish that nobody needs) which trigger the past. Just like Proust’s madeleine cakes, trash evokes some visions from the past and these visions warm the heart of the main character. In contrast to all this, at the end of this comic the characters are wondering if the situation in the near future will be reversed – will the “pieces of nature”, emerging from darkness and piles of trash that is threatening to swallow the entire world, have the strength to evoke warm and bright memories?

"Viper" is the story of a predator and the victim with an expected twist and outstanding graphic illustrations. It seems that this story is also influenced by Polanski’s “Chinatown”. This kind of a story could be easily found in the crime columns of some local newspapers.

"For You" is a romantic fantasy which resembles some of Guillaume Musso’s novels. The main character (again with the face of the author) receives a letter from himself, containing three sentences - instructions, which will take him to the safe harbour and the story with happy ending. The writer is telling us, through the mouth of his alter ego, that we, the children of the consumer society, always buy the story and not the product. This is an incredibly charming story and something that we would all like to experience - it seems like a midsummer night’s dream. Maybe this is just an advertisement for an alternative life that one could have, or alternative life in a parallel dimension ... In any case, this heartwarming story seems like an oasis in a desert of meaninglessness and deceit.

"Death is a Cliché" brings us back to the time of the crisis in the nineties, and the readers are witnessing an attempt of newlyweds to finally house themselves. Everything they have is second-hand: the apartment is inherited, the things in it were used ... and now they are trying to buy (on the black market because they don’t have money for a new one) the last thing they need for a normal life - a fridge. And if the fridge they bought could speak, it would tell them a lot of ugly stories... The main characters are the children of grunge music and they were connected by the music that originated from revolt and despair. On their way back home they are listening to the radio and they are changing the radio stations; the one with the mega popular trash folk music is replaced with the safe harbour with alternative grunge music. Suddenly, the news bulletin on the radio changes everything ... In this short story, among many other things, Obrenović is speaking about the inseparability of love and fear. When people lose faith in a better future and the idols that were telling them that they are not alone have fallen - then the fear of doom gets stronger, together with the fear of getting suffocated by cheap and trashy cultural surrogates. When this happens, the human spirit is paralyzed and everything beautiful and good collapses. Love ceases to be a joy and life ceases to be a value. The only way of purification is through fire.

"In the Name of the Father" not only shares its name with Jim Sheridan’s masterpiece, but also the tagline - a young man in an attempt to correct the injustice done to his father. The setting for the final comic in this collection is WWI, and behind the story about a gun (an allusion to the film "The Mexican") there is a story of a debt that has to be paid, revenge that is best served cold. As David Hine noticed in his review at the beginning of this collection, when a gun is introduced, it necessarily has to be used (and someone has to get killed). In the previous six comics/stories the ending is not crystal clear – the final frame leaves the possibility of a change, although any change would be quite impossible. In this last story, the final cut is unequivocal - gunshot is the final act of Obrenović’s comic collection.

In "Cardboard City" Željko Obrenović presents the world as it really is – he is brutally honest and he does not use make-up or pink filters. He often starts from the clichéd literary images: a private detective in the middle of a double game, a love triangle, abandoned and deceived, predators and victims ... but at the crucial moment he starts testing the boundaries of those clichés. Obrenović enriched these comics with different cultural and intertextual references and therefore the whole collection doesn’t look one-dimensional, but more like a palimpsest, where the layers below the obvious masterplot can be discovered only through thorough analysis of text and images. This collection is really more than just a sum of seven comics. Obrenović’s sentences are brisk and the final frame of each comic is surgically sharp. It looks as if the author is trying to do a vivisection of our twisted reality. We are living in times when every story is similar to another and when life is good only when we think about some brighter days from the past. The author is warning us that without future and (personal) evolution everything will lose its purpose and meaning. We are the future. We should be scared!

[Lone rider 1 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Da vi samo znate koliko je teško nakon Kristijanove recenzije napisati prikaz nečega a opet ostati originalan i reći nešto novo... No ipak, pokušaću da vam dam jedno kraće viđenje ove strip kolekcije koja je na mene zaista ostavila odličan utisak.

Najiskrenije, kada sam dobio u ruke ovu kolekciju nisam znao šta da očekujem. Međutim kada sam prvo video, a zatim i pročitao predgovore koje su napisali Pavle Zelić i Dejvid Hajn, znao sam da u rukama imam nešto veoma dobro.

Sami predgovori predstavljaju odličnu uvertiru koja će vam otvoriti „apetit“ da što pre krenete sa čitanjem stripova.

Pisac i scenarista Željko Obrenović sa izvrsnim ilustratorima (Nemanja Radovanović, Željko Vitorović, Gašper Rus i Miroslav Slipčević) stvorili su sedam priča koje, dok ih čitamo, deluju različito ali nakon završetka sedme priče vidimo da je u pitanju jedna kompaktna celina.

Crteži i dijalozi se maestralno nadopunjuju.

Svaka priča deluje kao izlet u neku vrstu zone sumraka. U početku sve deluje nekako poznato, blisko al kako priče odmiču, čitalac postaje svestan izmenjene realnosti koja ga grabi i ne pušta do samog završetka. Bez obzira da li priča o nečemu što se desilo u prošlosti, mogućoj sadašnjosti ili budućnosti, Obrenovićevi junaci su uvek obični ljudi koje opsedaju emocije sa kojima se čitalac lako može poistovetiti. I to je glavna prednost ovih stripova.

Baš zbog ovoga, čitalac lako postaje deo priče koja ga nosi do samog završetka.

Svaka priča/strip/crtež su izuzetno slojeviti tako de će te mnoge nove detalje otkriti na drugom ili trećem čitanju i to je još jedna od prednosti ove strip kolekcije. Teraće vas da joj se sigurno još koji put vratite.

Zaista, najiskrena preporuka svim ljubiteljima devete umetnosti.

[Petar Vučković · Rating 5 out of 5]

Svaka priča je bila odlična! Bilo je par koje su mozda bile nepotrbne, ali su me sve naterale na razmišljanje! Sve preopruke! 5 zvezdica!

[Bookvalna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uz veoma sugestivne ilustracije koje prate radnju, već i prvi pravougaonici teksta pružaju čitaocima neobičan, postapokaliptični detektivski „vajb“, pomalo nalik onom koji je prisutan u filmu „Elysium“ sa Metom Dejmonom i Džodi Foster u glavnim ulogama. Samim tim, atmosfera koju sam osetila čitajući „Karton Siti“, umnogome nalikuje na distopijsku (mada nažalost možda i realnu) sliku budućnosti, u kojoj se na jedan satiričan način pomeraju ekvatori, vode ratovi i prave ljubičaste krave koje se potom ubijaju.
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Iako ratovanje oduvek u sebi nosi sav besmisao i svu uzaludnost međusobnih sukoba, nažalost nije strano da se po njegovom okončanju uvek svaljuje krivica na druge i da se upire prstom u sve osim u sopstveni odraz. Upravo je taj apsurd ratovanja Obrenović uspeo da prenese čitaocima u svega nekoliko pravougaonika na uvodnim stranama stripa.
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Svakako su vredne pomena i ilustracije koje idu neverovatno uz čitav scenario, i to ne samo crteži, već i boje, čiji spektar je zagasit, zaglušujuć i donekle podseća na gust oblak dima cigareta iza kojeg se tek ovlaš nazire zelenilo.
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Po završetku čitanja „Karton Sitija“, poželela sam da pročitam i preostalih šest priča koje potpisuje Željko Obrenović, a što ću sigurno u nekom trenutku i učiniti. Ono što mi je smetalo prilikom čitanja bili su, u nekim trenucima, robotizovani, neprirodni dijalozi između nosilaca radnje, međutim, bez obzira na navedeno, „Karton Siti“ sam doživela kao svojevrsnu opomenu, vapaj planete ogrezle u dim, prljavštinu, ljudsku zlobu, ucene i rat.

[Alin Răuțoiu]

Review originally published on The Invaded

The future is already here — it’s just not evenly distributed.

William Gibson

This is one of my favorite quotes and one that comes to mind again and again. It’s rich in meaning and reveals many economic, technologic and social truths. It also explains why western sci-fi comics became a tad boring. Most of the people making them are middle to upper-class white men living in developed cities. In or around tech-hubs. With access to self-driving cars and drones and the latest smartphones and VR and AR and towering edifices of steel and glass and meal-replacement-products and wars that don’t happen next-door or even in your own country. Everyone else is just waiting to get on their level. The future is plotted on a pretty straight line and offers no surprise. But on the fringes there are other futures. And there are surprises. Željko Obrenović’s Cardboard Cities, published by Modesty Comics, is about these surprises and otherwise unimagined futures.
The story that opens this collection of short stories, and also the one that gives it its name, is dense in possible futures and its unconventional murder mystery serves as a pretext to uncover them. The U.S. was wrestled from its position as a global superpower because of the Chino-Indian war. A war sparked by the death of all cows. When the dust settled the two countries divided the world in a new Cold War not from East to West, but from North to South. Then a purple cow appears in Serbis and its death might turn the war hot again.
I could very well see this adapted into an episode of The Black Mirror. The pace is alert enough and the inevitable twist at the end serves not only as a surprise, but as punchy political commentary about power in world-politics.

Željko Vitorović draws it relying on contours and heavy blotches of ink, with little rendering over the referenced figures and items, reminding at the best of times of Mitch Gerads or Michael Gaydos. There is talent and skill here, but unevenly applied. The figures shift from expressiveness to stiffness and don’t always seem to fit into the background, nor is the lighting(and shading) in a scene evenly or consistently applied. This issues are exacerbated by an apparent disinterest in some conventions of the comic book medium. There is no grid, with the panels being almost haphazardly thrown on the page, weakening the sequences and the panel-to-panel visual storytelling. When it comes to splash-pages, though, Vitorović produces some staggering images like the one of the eponymous cardboard city, that also serves as cover for the book.
But my two favorite stories from here are actually historical ones. They still concern themselves with the future. With expecting no future or preparing for one.

Death is a Cliché is a story about buying a secondhand fridge. It’d say it’s the kind of story Cristian Mungiu would a two and a half hours movie about, but the comic is more structurally ambitious starting in media res and containing flashbacks. And so in twelve pages it manages to paint a recognizable portrait of a poverty stricken country, with crumbling infrastructure and where a second-hand fridge looted from war zones is an immense luxury. It talks about trying to carve a space for yourself in this kind of world, of dreading the war, while taking a bit of it into your own house, of looking with admiration and idealism at the world from the movies and finding a bit of joy in what you create for yourself and the enthusiasm to reach into the future, while losing the means to live it.
Gašper Rus is providing the art for this, and Filip Stanković the color, which is a large reason for its success. The style is cartoony, but harsh, at times reminding of the woodblock novels of Lynd Ward or Frans Masereel. The characters are expressive and convey personality, showing through wide gestures, subtly bitten lips and exchanged glances a lot more that they are telling.

Then there’s the story that closes the collection. In the Name of the Father takes place during the First World War, revolving around a jammed pistol and the cycle of violence bred by war. At only five pages it’s one of the shortest stories, but also one of the most elegantly told ones, almost like an EC comic of old with a just violent reward at the end.
Again, all of this greatly helped by the art of Miroslav Slipčević Mimi. With very clear page layouts, with an understanding of sequencing, or framing, knowingly use of the medium’s conventions (like rounded panels for flashbacks) and a nice illustrative style he embellishes this story in a very pleasant way.

In the end, this is a pleasant and exciting collection showing Obrenović’s strengths as an author as he stretches through genres and perspectives, themes and approaches. Not all the stories are perfect, but all of them display an observational voice, an interest for the world beyond genre tropes, and the means to express a culture in just a few pages through characters and the actions they take.

[Pavle Zelić · Rating 5 out of 5]

Karton siti is a collection of weird and wonderful short comics about the small and big events and relationships that shape our lives, and the lives of people around us. The different drawing styles of various artists add to the rich visual diversity, while the scrips by Željko Obrenović carry the weight and emotional punch of much longer stories.

[mjautorka]

Kratka stripska forma je, da kažemo, ćudljive prirode. Naizgled to deluje sjajno, jer uz pomoć dobrog crtača, autor dobija priliku da na samo nekoliko stranica oživi svoje junake i situacije u kojima se oni nalaze, ki to na način na koji sama slova na papiru nikada ne bi mogla. Međutim, svako ko se ikada prihvatio pisanja kratkog stripa sigurno zna koliko je to zahtevan posao. Stranicu ne smete da pretrpate objašnjenjima, ne sme čak ni da bude previše dijaloga, i morate da budete vrlo jasni ne bi li svaka prikazana scena imala svrhu i poentu. Kratka forma ne dopusta ni najmanji višak, i u velikoj meri zavisi od toga koliko se autorova ideja poklopa sa vizijom crtača.
Na sreću, Karton siti ne pati od takvih problema. Obrenović je vešt pisac i odlično se snasao u ulozi scenariste. Čak šest od ukupno sedam priča iz Karton sitija su zapravo adaptacije njegovih starijih priča, ali poznavanje originalnog materijala nije potrebno za razumevanje stripa. Štaviše, vrlo je verovatno da ćete, nakon što zaklopite poslednju stranicu izdanja, krenuti u potragu za svim ostalim stvarima koje je Obrenović napisao.

Drugim rečima, svi momci koji potpisuju ovo izdanje se nalaze na istoj talasnoj dužini, pa nam se tako čini da smo pre dobili jedno kompaktno delo, nego zbirku nepovezanih ispovesti. A doći do takvog rezultata sigurno nije bio lako.

Naslovna pripovetka počiva na suludoj ideji koju autor smešta u ne baš tako daleku budućnost. U toj budućnosti bukti Treći svetski rat, a počeo je jer su sve krave na svetu umrle mučeničkom smrću u jednom danu. Preciznije, umrle su sve krave sem ljubičaste Milke koja je svoje stanište našla u beogradskom Karton sitiju. Zvuci šašavo, zar ne? Pa i nije baš, pogotovo kada shvatite da Obrenović u ovoj priči ipak ne beži predaleko od stvarnosti (ili, preciznije, od situacije iz prošle godine kada je Beograd bio jedno od žarišta migrantske krize i kada su gradom kružile teorije zavere sa zapletom jos luđim od ovog našeg). Vitorovićev palpi crtež joj, samim tim, savršeno stoji, a simpatično je kako se ovaj crtač drži istih motiva i u romantičnoj Za tebe. Upravo ovakvi detalji pokazuju da su sve priče iz zbirke deo istog univerzuma, to jest, deo istog ratnog tajmlajna.

Obrenovićeve priče su univerzalne i razumljive čitaocima sa svih meridijana, i stoga je izuzetno značajan potez izdavača koji ih je učinio dostupnim i na engleskom jeziku. Ipak, istina je da ćete ih najbolje razumeti ako živite na brdovitom Balkanu. U Muzeju đubreta najbolje se vidi zašto.

Ova priča se ističe od ostalih kako po snažnom narativu (ubedljivijem nego u originalu), tako i po grafičkom izrazu za koji su zajedno zaslužni Vitorović i Radovanović. U pitanju je jedna sasvim obična šetnja i sasvim običan razgovor koji svi obični parovi mahom izbegavaju. No, pisac nas ovde prosto tera da ga prisluškujemo. I to pomalo boli. Prvo, zato što nam je opalio šamar jer nas je baš briga zbog toga što svaki dan gacamo po đubretu koje smo naneli upravo mi sami. Onda nas baca u razmišljanje kakvo to govno od sveta ostavljamo svojoj deci u nasleđe. I na kraju poentira sa pitanjem na koje odgovor imaju samo malobrojni: Kako nam uopšte pada na pamet da ostanemo i gacamo tu gde smo? Da, zaista boli.

Ostatak teksta pročitati na: http://happynovisad.com/strip/karton-...

[Dusan Prvacki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ovo neće biti samo još jedna recenzija gde ću pronalaziti značenja tamo gde ih nema, i pisati enormne količine teksta ne bih li pokazao kompleksnost tamo gde je nema.

Karton siti je grafički roman koji se sastoji iz 7 kratkih priča i ime je dobio po prvoj, ujedno i najdužoj priči. Priče su potpuno nepovezane međusobno u smislu radnje, likova, i vremena dešavanja radnje - ono što ih povezuje je opšta tmurna atmosfera i motivi izdaje i zavere koji se prožimaju kroz svaku priču, u manjoj ili većoj meri.

Poruka koju svaka priča želi da prenese je veoma jasna i ne zahteva preteranu interpretaciju na kraju dana - jedini problem koji sam imao prilikom čitanja su konfuzni dijalozi s vremena na vreme, kao da između dveju replika fali nešto između.

Sve u svemu, zanimljiv (doduše ne preterano inovativan) osvrt na dobro poznate ljudske osobine i motive, a i sama raznovrsna ilustracija je za svaku pohvalu.