indefinite articles

This week: Acme Novelty Library #16 - Rusty Brown, part 1

Admittedly, my initial impression was dismissive. Surely this cannot be the same artist/genius/comic-god my reputable friends - and even some disreputable ones - have been raving about, I thought. There’s no way that this art style, which almost looks like children’s book illustration, could convey the lavish and rich tapestry of characters I had been promised. Curse thee, sirens, for you have forsaken this lowly graphic novel newb and led me crashing into the rocks of disillusionment, leaving me alone, shipwrecked, drowning in an esoteric subculture without a - Ooh look, Rusty Brown has a fro! That’s hilarious!

Having read Acme Novelty Library #16, which contains the first chapter of Rusty Brown, a currently in-progress graphic novel, I feel embarrassed that I ever doubted Chris Ware (and my friends). I now champion the art style, the primary reason, in fact, I am loving reading the Library. There’s something deeply poetic about clean, vibrantly colored drawings being juxtaposed with a melancholy narrative, creating a cognitive dissonance that requires - no, demands - one’s full attention and adherence. Simply stated, Chris Ware has shown me a completely new form of storytelling I have never experienced before, and I like it.

An example of Ware’s mind-bending storytelling: While the Browns’ story plays out across most of the page, the story of the White children, Chalky and Alice, flows along the bottom, an inch tall.

Nothing is given to you and everything requires closer inspection. The cover art is indicative of what you can expect in each page of issue #16. As you scan the pictogram, you start realizing how painstakingly detailed Ware’s art really is. In the inside front cover, Ware has placed a textbook checkout sheet, the kind used in elementary school to identify who has checked out a book from year to year. It’s not until after reading the full issue, however, that you can appreciate this simple visual gag: Each signature belongs to one of the four main characters, and each signature provides insight into each of their personalities. You can discern who the good, the bad, and the socially inept are, all before the title page.

It looks like a sight gag at first, but the inside cover is another example of Ware’s subtle world building.

As much as I wanted to devour the book wholesale, I was forced to appreciate every detail, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. It was as if someone had served me a filet mignon while I was starving; as much as I wanted to tear through that piece of meat, the texture and flavors demanded that I sit back and enjoy. It was torture!

Ultimately, what makes #16 so effective is its ability to do so much with so little. In traditional comic book storytelling, a thought bubble or an omniscient narrator would provide you with background on a character or insight into what they’re thinking. In Rusty Brown, traumatic experiences, feelings of sadness, lamentation, and rage are all illustrated in single frames, partnering the character with contextual cues. I wasn’t being told what to feel or even what the person was feeling. Instead, I had to fill in the blanks to understand what the picture was telling me, tapping into my own feelings in order to give life to the figures on the page.

I’m not sure I would have had such a strong emotional response if I saw the same plot unfold in a movie or read it in a book. I like to think not.

Next time: Building Stories part 1 & Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth!