Since 1991, Jim Woodring has filled hundreds of pages with comics set in a twisted, mysterious world called the Unifactor. This isn't just a fantasy land; it's a plane of existence that operates on a fundamentally different logic to our own. Its inhabitants see the world in a way we can't hope to comprehend, their motivations and morals often unfathomable. At times, even the very laws of cause and effect seem to be ruptured. It's a place that's at once familiar and unknowable, terrifying and enchanting. These are comics that burst with unbridled imagination – not mere inventiveness, but the raw stuff from which dreams are made.
The Frank Book contains all of Woodring's Unifactor comics from 1991 through 2003. They range in length from 1 to 50 pages, with most falling somewhere around 5–10 pages. They could all fairly be summed up as twisted, psychedelic distortions of classic cartooning (think Mickey Mouse on acid, or Bugs Bunny's nightmares). That said, there's considerable variety here. Some work as simple morality tales, while others are just zany, cartoonish antics, not a million miles away from Tom & Jerry (or Itchy & Scratchy). Many of them are structured like gag strips, ending on a punchline – though the punchlines are just as often horrifying as humorous. Some of them seem to be saying something real and important – expressing a certain emotion or idea – but others are so surreal that any attempt to make sense of them would be fruitlessly frustrating.
For me, the most interesting thing about these comics is that they seem to be crafted from pure archetype, bypassing the reader’s rational mind and speaking straight to the subconscious. The most obvious example of this is the character of Frank himself: Woodring refers to him as a "generic anthropomorph", and this is achieved perfectly; he embodies the essence of an anthropomorphic mammalian cartoon character in such a way that one barely notices that he doesn't belong to any recognizable species. Even more evocative, however, is Manhog, a pitiable, viscerally repulsive creature that one only has to observe for a moment to recognize as a personification of such undesirable human traits as selfishness, greed, cowardice, laziness and sycophantism. What's more, in as far as these comics can be said to have narratives at all, their plots are constructed almost entirely from symbols, motifs and feelings: wonder, fear, surprise, exploration, curiosity… peeking through holes, walking through doorways, physical mutilation, bodily transformation…
None of this would work, of course, if it weren't for Woodring's absolutely stellar cartooning. With scarcely any words, he always manages to depict events with the utmost clarity – even if it's often unclear why things are happening, no reader could fail to follow the panel-to-panel action. Perhaps the greatest testament to Woodring's cartooning skill is Pupshaw – Frank's friend/pet/housemate – who boasts probably my favourite character design in all of comics. She's a box-like, quasi-canine creature with a simply drawn but superbly expressive face, who often follows Frank around during his adventures, and tends to sense dangers to which Frank is blissfully oblivious. As such, she serves as a kind of Greek chorus, her facial expressions providing a hilarious silent commentary on events as they unfold. I know I'm doing a terrible job of explaining why, but every panel featuring Pupshaw puts a smile on my face. And it's not just Pupshaw, of course – every single character, object, building and landscape is awesome in both design and execution. And Woodring seems to be equally adept at working in black and white and in colour: the black-and-white material (the majority here) boasts meticulous, bold linework that evokes mediaeval woodcuts and gives Charles Burns a run for his money, while the colour strips experiment with different styles and techniques and really bring the Unifactor to life, in all its technicolour glory.
I should emphasize that these comics were published individually over the course of a decade, and I think reading a lot of them in one go would be exhausting, especially for a newcomer to the Unifactor. I read them over several months, dipping in and out, and often re-reading the same strips multiple times, and this is definitely the approach I'd recommend. As surreal and largely textless comics, it would be easy to burn through them quite quickly, but I advise taking the time to soak each one up and reflect on it a bit.
It did take me a while to get into these comics – to learn to appreciate Woodring's unique vision – but once they'd clicked for me, I was completely enthralled. I guess a lot of people wouldn't get anything out of this work whatsoever, but it's a must for anyone with a taste for surrealism and psychedelia. Moreover, this is essential reading for anyone with an appreciation for the craft of cartooning, as Jim Woodring is undoubtedly one of its great masters.