Fungible Convictions

Reading Comics by Douglas Wolk

Pitched as a primer on comics but one that doesn’t follow through, Reading Comics suffers from the same insularity-of-subject that the author himself identifies as a problem in the comics world. While it offers a decent jumping-off point for a newbie who wants to know more about what’s good to read, only about a third of the book is dedicated to the meaning and history of comics. The rest is a compilation of Wolk’s essays on specific authors, series, and books, which means someone who expected a thorough background on how one might read different comics is left adrift, most of all because the majority of Reading Comics–despite the aims stated in the introduction–can be appreciated only by those familiar with the publications being referenced. Wolk and his publisher go to great lengths to secure reprint rights for many, many individual cells or pages of comics, but ultimately, out of context, these reproductions are only meaningful to those who have read the references works in full themselves.

So basically: use Reading Comics to select a handful of comics you would read yourself but only dive into the full book after having an idea of what Wolk is writing about.

Just to add two more examples of nostaligic art: (the defunct band) Poor Rich One’s song “Mom Is Home” (whose tie to the Amoeba song of the same name, and some same lyrics, I’m still sorting out):

Mom is home, but you can open the door,
don’t be afraid now, not anymore.

and two writers doing very similar things, Michael Chabon and Jonathan Lethem. Both have written fine books in the last six years or so having to do with comics, childhood, and haltingly mature adults. I’ll be reviewing both of their new books on Fungible Convictions within the next month.

And let’s add an Eels stanza:

Little kids go out to play
They’re just happy it’s another day
It’s up to you and me, and who’s to say
These could be the good old days

That last line is grim. I think when my friends and I and tons of others decide to spend an evening in and brood, the thought that life won’t necessarily get better weighs heavily.