Spurgery

You know, the mere fact that I've found the time and energy to write about comics again makes me a little worried, like it signals the onset of some sort of mania and I'm going to really lose my shit soon. I almost want to prescribe just one or two posts a week because otherwise I might just go silent for another few months. Anyway, it was great that Tom Spurgeon actually noticed the little Captain America article I did, so thanks, Tom, and also thanks to pal Alan David Doane for also linking to it.

But back to Tom, who posted his usual thoughtful and hard-to-debate list of his Best Comics for 2008. I don't feel it useful to debate someone else's opinion on what's good, or maybe I should say that that's just not what I want to do right now and would probably enjoy it another time. Instead, a few thoughts on the piece.

1) As much as I agree that one could read nothing but archival editions and have a "strongly satisfying relationship with the art form," it also seems like dangerous thinking for a critic. Not a criticism of Spurgeon, who clearly is still very engaged with what's going on currently, just an observation. Another danger is to reward archival work too highly based on its presentation, or even just the fact it finally exists in a nice format. I wonder, is there something in the Noel Sickles' book I'm not already getting in Caniff's Terry and the Pirates? When you sign on for some of these archival series it's like sponsoring a child or something. I had to let Dennis the Menace go when I realized he was sending me the same letter over and over.

2) Spain's Che bio and should it have received more reviews/discussion. It actually seems that the fewer reviews on this one, the better, at least if Spain pays any attention to such things. I think all critics have their pet artists, bands, directors, what have you, and due to this or having a certain part of our brains locked into a certain era, we think that these creative folks are always going to be relevant or that they will perpetually merit at least some sort of notice. In my life, Spain has never meant anything. That's neither his fault nor mine; we just never connected on the couple of somewhat recent works of his I've read and I don't even know what is supposed to be his best or most accessible work. I just have come to the conclusion, and it ties in somewhat to the first point, that there's too much good stuff out there to even worry that much about what you've missed, nor should you be concerned with whether something should have gotten more attention. I mean, for better or worse, John Byrne was my go-to guy growing up. I can't pretend he's relevant now or that this or that current project should automatically get attention, no matter what pleasure he's brought readers in the past. I also realize that I will probably never turn anyone onto The Fall in any lasting, meaningful way, and that's okay. For me, the reason I didn't get the book is not only that I don't care for Spain's work, I don't care for Che Guevara, at least from what I know of him. Now, I am curious about the Soderbergh movie coming, especially since he's admitted he doesn't necessarily agree with Che's politics. It's easy to parse from the Spain reviews that while he may show some of Che's flaws, like a weakness for cigars and women, it's overall a pro-Che book. I'm more curious about Soderbergh's take, especially in that he has a lot more room for nuance in a three hour film than a short comic bio can achieve. As for whether John Porcellino's Thoreau book should have received more attention, I was more interested in that one but ultimately decided that I'd much rather see more new Porcellino comics and that boring, virginal Thoreau might drag him down. Also, while I mildly enjoyed the previous two Center for Cartoon Studies comics bios (Houdini and Satchel Paige), it felt a little like school, but school from which you'd long ago graduated. I'm pretty leery of the comics bio. It seems like a pretty restrictive genre, especially when geared towards young adults like these are. Only Tezuka's lengthy and highly dramatized Buddha has really worked for me, and maybe that Nick Bertozzi Salon thing about young Picasso.

3) Spurgeon's comment on Cul de Sac and his dismay over the collapse of the newspaper comic strip is the heart of the piece. He's unfailingly honest but rarely this emotional (although the phrase "more than I'd care to admit" never really made sense to me, because that's the admission right there. Still, that's one of the keys to why he's so good. If you're really engaged with comics, then not only are you considering the work but you have to live and die a little with the people making it.