Rediscovering Comics (Part Two of a Two-Part Series)
Marvel Comics were a staple of my early reading diet: as essential to my growing mind as P.B.&J was to my growing body. As a “different” kid, I found solace in the X-Men and their youth brigade, The New Mutants. Sometimes I’d daydream about how nice it’d be to be whisked away from my sad, chaotic home and adopted by the avuncular Professor Xavier. Obviously, I never thought it was actually possible. I knew the difference between fact and fiction. But good fiction often leads to day-dreams. It sticks with you afterwards. That’s what X-Men comics did for me when I was a child.
Then, one day in the fall of ’86 – perhaps gradually or perhaps suddenly (I can’t remember which) – I stopped reading them.
Why?
I can’t say for certain exactly why I stopped reading. My memory isn’t that good. But I do have some suspicions.
Reason #1: Genocide Is A Downer
Looking back, 1986 was a dark time for mutantkind – The (Mighty Marvel) Mutant Massacre.
I’m sure some of my readers remember more of the specifics about this story arc than I do. What I remember most is that I lot of shit went down. Angel (a mutant with wings) ended up crucified in the sewers beneath New York (eventually, the wings would have to be amputated; although a quick review of wikipedia tells me that later they were magically returned). Kitty Pryde – the mutant who could pass through solid objects – became trapped in the ghostlike “phased” form. Insubstantial. Slowly deteriorating until she would become no more. Nightcrawler ended up in a coma.
It’s just a guess, but I’m thinking that this storyline might just have been too dark for me. I had enough anxiety and sadness in my life at that time. I’d always imagined the X-Men to be an island of tolerance and inclusion for weirdos like me. While this island was always threatened by the usual suspects (the government, evil mutants, etc.), the mutant massacre arc threatened my heroes as no storyline had ever done before. For the first time that I could remember, fictional lives were at stake.
Comics stopped being escapist and fun. They grew a little too close to the crap I was dealing with in my day-to-day life. I saw less and less reason to read them.
Reason #2: Where’s The Weird?
Okay, so maybe I stopped reading comics because of the too-dark Mutant Massacre arc. But that was almost 25 years ago. The massacre alone can’t explain the reason I stayed away so long. Why didn’t I pick up comics later on?
For me, I guess the answer was two-fold. Although standard comic book art appealed to the taste of a weird kid, it didn’t grab the attention of the weird adult I’d grown into. When I was thirteen, I’d never been exposed to German expressionist cinema or outsider art. After learning to appreciate those visual styles, “normal” art just didn’t wow me.
Reason #3: Cluttered Storylines
Probably the biggest reason I’ve avoided comics over the years is the same reason I’ve avoided soap operas : once you’ve walk away from them for a year or two, so much has happened that it’s impossible to catch up. It just seems like too much has changed. There also seems to be too much in the way of time travel and multiple universes. Too many “reboots” and alternate versions of the same character. Too much artistic license to create stories that go outside of the continuity.
As a kid, I probably would have eaten that all up. However, as an adult working two day jobs and the writing gig, I don’t have time to keep up with it all.
I find that when I read descriptions of comic plots up on Wikipedia, I feel like I’m looking at a big pile of jumbled up coat-hangers: where do I even start trying to sort things out?
What Now?
When I went the comics shop to buy the Firestorm miniseries, I stumbled onto a bin of left overs from the May “Free Comic Book Day” promotion. It was there that I discovered, “Weathercraft & Other Unusual Tales” by Jim Woodring. Nobody can accuse Mr. Woodring of not being weird enough. The art is, in someplaces, as entrancing as the images from a Jodorowsky film. The “story” – what there is of one – was just sort of “meh” (as the kids say these days). But still, I found enough to like in “Weathercraft” that I decided there might be some hope for comics yet.
Ironically, on the very same day, my copy of A Hundred Horrible Sorrows of Ogner Stump arrived in the mail. A Hundred Horrible Sorrows… is the first publication from Shark Versus Badger (the comic book imprint of Eraserhead Press). Written and illustrated by Andrew Goldfarb, the book is awash in surreal images and the smart humor of despair. And yes, there is even a smidgen of German expressionist art (in a riff off of the classic Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). It’s more of a collection of comic strips than a graphic novel in and of itself – but perhaps that’s why I like it. All the backstory I need to know to enjoy it is that Ogner is an everyman and Slub Glub is his odd gargoyle-like sidekick, who I should be imaginging as pale blue (the book is printed in black-and-white).
I don’t need to worry about whether there’s a Slub Glub from the future, or from an alternate universe. I don’t have to even worry that much about continuity. It’s just a fun read. Oddball brain candy: simple, but weird.
So maybe this is the direction I need to take in my comics appreciation. Maybe I should just ignore the superhero titles – leaving them behind, in fond memory – and delve into the weird. I’m looking forward to see what other titles Eraserhead brings forward under Shark Versus Badger. It’d be great to see comic book adaptations of the works of Carlton Mellick III, but I just don’t know if anything like that is even remotely in the cards. The free comic promotion for the Woodring book led me to explore other titles released by his publisher, Fantagraphics Books. I’m sure before long I’ll be placing an order.
Who needs Wolverine and Cyclops when I have Slub Glub and Manhog? Maybe I’ve not picked up a graphic novel because I’ve been looking in the wrong place. Maybe I need to approach comics the same way I’ve been approaching books in the last few years. Maybe the weird, indie stuff is where it’s at.
