indefinite articles

Where to begin? Most people would tell you, “at the beginning.” I say those people are conventionalist sheep. Also, they’re probably smart. I claim none of those. But whether you are the type of person who believes in a logical start, middle, and end or you think storytelling is as abstract as space and time, I still had to decide how to approach the daunting (yet very enjoyable) task of reading the entire collection of Chris Ware, graphic novelist and hilariously tortured artist.

I decided that my first step would be to research Mr. Ware’s body of work. Thirty seconds after jumping on my laptop I said, “Fuck that, I’m only reading his books.” So I provide you with this quick disclaimer: I’m only reading Acme Novelty Library. This rules out sketches, early strips in The Daily Texan , and Floyd Farland: Citizen of the Future , which is out of print anyway. That being said, I now had to come up with an order of reading 18½ issues, containing four graphic novels and four anthologized strips. Chronological seemed to be the most rational, providing me with context and a common thread to tether ideas and reactions to, as well as a framework to develop a subtext of commentary on Chris Ware’s development as a writer and artist. That would’ve been awesome if I hadn’t already read The Acme Novelty Library #16 (Rusty Brown Pt. 1 & Building Stories Pt. 1 ) earlier this year.

Having set precedent, I concluded that I would continue reading the Library in order of how I get them, such as in my first reading, which I came into possession by means of availability at my local comic book store. I walked in, asked for Chris Ware and picked up Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth (a collection of issues 5, 8 - 14). However, when I got home and took the cellophane wrap off I got about two pages in before realizing that the entire book was in Spanish. I debated keeping it to brush up on my native language, but then remembered I’m lazy, so I returned it for #16.

Since then, I have obtained Jimmy Corrigan, which was completely unplanned and the product of killing time before I had to pick up my girlfriend, who was running errands in a part of San Francisco that is laced with tourist traps. With very few venues to choose from, I walked into a bookstore, no doubt owned by some locals, Mr. Barnes and Mr. Noble (they even had a little cute café!), and proceeded to peruse the aisles. To my surprise, I saw Jimmy in all his tragically depressing awkwardness staring right at me.

I don’t know exactly why I felt I needed to buy it right there and then, perhaps it was because I was so incredibly disappointed the first time around that retribution could not come quick enough, or maybe it was because the embarrassment of being in such a corporate megastore - with every step I took, I could hear the backs of mom and pop bookstore owners break - that I needed some sort of badge or marker to let people know that I’m not a member of Oprah’s book of the month club. In any case, I snatched the book from the shelves and clamped down with a vice-like grip. It now sits on my coffee table receiving the occasional glance.

But with a plan for tackling this oeuvre and the some issues in my possession, I feel properly equipped and motivated to embark on the long journey ahead … starting next week.