Whenever I deeply dislike a book, especially a piece from a small or indie press, (or, in this case, a small comics con) I really try to question myself if I don't like it because I'm bored or not reading it right or because I really, genuinely, dislike it. And then I found a few really good pieces in here and I realized I just really, really didn't like ~80% of the pieces in here.
There's some grossness, there's some weird vaguely pedophilic... thing (don't ask, I didn't like it), there's literally a dead cat on the page (🙃). There's a lot of meandering and some pointless jokes. Also, weirdly, there's a piece about a man whose basically lifetime achievement was becoming student body president in high school??? Idk cannot relate. And then there's Art Spiegelman talking about Charles Schulz and a several really cool dialogue-less pieces about wildly different topics. There's a lovely reverie on one artist's childhood and his grandparents, a weird little piece about committing crime for teenage acceptance, and an illustration of a true crime piece of history. Also, not necessarily my favorite but the most beautiful, was a little watercolor illustration of a section out of Joyce's Ulysses.
This is such a weirdly diverse little collection that I so wish was better! I wonder a little bit (just a little) if I am missing out on some context here, reading this in 2022 and only being five-years-old when it was originally published. Based on the other two reviews, I am inclined to think not, but I'd like to give it the benefit of the doubt.
Overall, really sad I didn't enjoy this one enough to keep because there were some really good pieces in here. They were just hidden very well.
You know how there's that independent movie that you're supposed to like, that everyone raves about and it wins all the awards, but then you see it and you're totally underwhelmed? Small press comics almost always leave me with that feeling. But, like independent films, there are those few flawlessly brilliant nuggets that keep me coming back.
There are some really good pieces in here, but 70% of it's worthless. Most of it is plotless (and not in the deep, emotional way--more like the author forgot when the piece was due and ran out of time.) Some of it is cryptic (and not in the good way where you keep trying to puzzle it out; more like in the mode of Jackson Pollock. I mean, maybe it's "art" but it isn't really "comics.") Some of it's just weird and off-putting. And there are a few good, solid ones. But mostly bad.
Anyway, it's the kind of thing I want to like, like historical dramas, jazz, and economics. But I just don't.
It's FINALLY over. Lesson learned- really thick anthologies accept anything and the quality within just isn't worth the marathon.
and as I've said before, Art Spiegleman as himself is one long echoed groan whether it's a submission or especially an introduction. His is the only (actual) name with no capital letters furthering the bellow. A dry know-it-all rubber-bung hump-lung laisse-ferret. Just sell the rights to your Maus so we don't have to hear about it anymore- keeping your "cred" makes you incredulous.
This one was a bit rough to get through... I'll admit I just skimmed until I hit a story by someone I knew or the art looked nice. So about 5% of the book was worth reading for me.