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The first Chris Ware I read was the Columbian Exposition issue of Jimmy Corrigan, and I was blown away. The art's obviously the work of a master, saying so much with so few lines and such rigid stylistic control, the slow story of a few confused and agonising months in a child's life, ending in abandonment, couldn't be bettered.
I bought the rest, still in the little Acme books, and enjoyed it. But now, a few years on, I have trouble remembering any of it fondly and when I tried to reread it I got nowhere, maybe half-an-issue in before I picked up something that engaged me more.
JC was an achievement without doubt, but I have to question how readable it is. The tendency in comics is to praise something as a classic if it's well done, but this might be better judged as you would a prose writer's first novel: brilliant style, good characterisation, not entirely successful. I wasn't too impressed by the first chapter of Rusty Brown, either. More stylistic innovation, so far not a great deal to say.
Ware's shorter stuff, like Big Tex in the giant Acme (can't remember the number) or the piece for McSweeney's, has affected me far more than the whole of Jimmy C apart from the Columbian chapter. Treat that as a short story, and it's a masterpiece. |
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