indefinite articles

This Week: Quimby the Mouse, collecting Chris Ware’s college comic strips found in Acme Novelty Library, issues #2 and #4.

Quimby the Mouse is by and large Chris Ware’s diary — or if you prefer to be more masculine and highbrow, his journal. It is nonsensical, often confusing, sometimes embarrassing, and, above all, exposing. Unlike other issues I have read up to this point, where the protagonists (Jimmy Corrigan and Rusty Brown) can be separated from Ware himself – making an appearance in Rusty Brown as an art teacher makes this especially true – Quimby is a personification of Ware’s feelings and consciousness.

Before I go any further, I just wanted to share some thoughts on the style and structure of Quimby the Mouse. At first it seems that there is no framework to Quimby, that this graphic novel is actually a series of non-sequiturs. On the contrary, Quimby is an exercise in linking free flowing thoughts to a common thread. The trouble is, the common thread isn’t a plot.

Quimby is quite the angry fellow, just like the pessimistic Ware.

Instead, what weaves in and out of each self-contained comic strip in the book are serial references in each story to the ones that preceded it. So, if a briefcase is introduced, then the next three or four strips will revolve around this briefcase. The same treatment is done to a cat’s head, a caped superhero, a house, a telescope, and a lamp to name a few. This list of seemingly innocuous items is impressive if not bemusing. Oh, and to make sure you, the reader, never stops scratching your head, Quimby’s art style varies between a Steamboat Willy-esque mouse, an anatomically correct Mortimer Mouse, a stick-figure, and most confusing of all, a two headed mouse – all of which provide you with the feeling that you are reading an early twentieth century comic book; bravo to Ware for capturing the essence of these classic styles.

Sparky the Cat’s head goes for an adventure. Just another part of Quimby’s surreal logic.

Alright, back to my initial point. At times, the veil separating Ware and Quimby is paper thin, such as when tackling the loss of his grandmother. In one comic strip in particular, Ware voices his feelings of mourning through the use of an omnipresent narrator, thus removing any partition between the cartoon and life. In another strip, Ware uses a two-headed mouse, one of which is dying, to metaphorically represent his struggle with losing someone very close to him. It is during these times that the author is most vulnerable, and the reader is most aware of his/her presence. Imagine walking unannounced into a wake, but instead of being asked to leave, a relative of the deceased starts lamenting to you. How do you feel? Do you run or do you console the bereft? What do you do?

Quimby, stand-in for Ware, lies in bed, thinking of his recently deceased grandmother.

Similarly, in what ends up being one of the most interesting, and possibly self-loathing stories, Quimby the Mouse is an insenstive dick to Sparky the Cat (an immobile cat head). The basic plotline is: Quimby loves Sparky; Quimby abuses or neglects Sparky; Quimby realizes how much he loves Sparky and repents; Quimby abuses or neglects Sparky. However, in the final strip featuring Sparky the Cat, Quimby finally crosses the line, and in a heart-wrenching twist of fate, Sparky the Cat rejects Quimby the Mouse. This all leads me to the conclusion that if Quimby is Ware, and Quimby is a self-destructing sadist, then Ware is a self-destructing sadist genius. We’ll explore this further in future issues.

As for now, I need a drink.

Next week: Delving into the more obscure corners of Acme Novelty Library.