Random Thoughts

Jizz #1-10 by Scott Russo.

There was an double entendre epidemic going around at the time: Colin Upton’s Big Thing, Roberta Gregory’s Naughty Bits… and Scott Russo’s Jizz, which is, perhaps, only half as entendrey.  A single entendre.

I didn’t remember much of this series, only that it was outrageous and somewhat controversial, but I was pretty stoked to be re-reading it.

Oh, yeah. I had forgotten how much self-loathing was in this book. It reminds me a bit of Ivan Brunetti, only a very juvenile one who’s not very interested in the artwork.

There’s a couple of pages in this style, which I would call “telephone notebook scribble Ted McKeever” (what with all those little teeth)…

… but most are in this very simple, cartoony and rather lazy style. And this excerpt exemplifies why I remembered it being controversial. Russo depicts himself thinking many racist thoughts (always with the Jew stuff), but he also depicts other people saying racist things and then saying clearly that he’s upset at being a witness to those things.

In additions to the comics, there are text pieces and “found objects” like this, often with jokes underneath.

It’s rather sophomoric, isn’t it? It’s very much like what an alienated 16-year-old would create, what with all the outrage and angst…

These free-floating parodies are an opportunity to write shocking screeds but not take responsibility for them.

The humour is often extremely lazy, as in this piece featuring Akira Kurosawa. He’s Japanese, so L/R.

Russo calls the Fantagraphics office and talks to one of the Hernandez brothers. They’re Mexican! Hilarious! Not that he’s the only one to make these lazy jokes…  Clowes does one, and…  Hm, I should have made a note every time a Fantagraphics artist makes the same edgy joke, because I just can recall who else did this…

And speaking of lazy, Russo will do things like use four pages to print facsimiles of a pistol license application. Russo is apparently a gun nut for real (and a Libertarian, possibly) and writes quite a bit about wanting to buy guns, so it makes sense in context, but still… Sometimes reading Jizz it feels like Russo thinks that putting the thing together is a chore, so he just puts in some page fillers.

So it sounds like a rather loathsome package, right? But I enjoyed reading these issues. When Russo pulls himself together and actually draws, it doesn’t look half bad. And while I didn’t really laugh once, it’s frequently amusing, especially the way that Russo seems hell-bent on alienating as many people as possible.

His most frequent targets are other comic book artists, but he also goes after comic book dealers. So courageous.

The final major constituent part of the series are the letters that Russo sends to officials (some of them seem kinda deranged), and the restrained answers he gets back. I feel rather sorry for the people who are wasting their time responding to this dreck. Semi-serious letter above…

… and here’s a prank letter to ex-mayor Koch. I dunno. I’m just old and I only see someone who wasted ten minutes having to respond to this nonsense when they could have been doing something more useful, like sniffing their fingers.

Russo depicts Gary Groth, leading the Fantagraphics Empire. See? His drawing isn’t that bad when he makes an effort.

Apparently Russo had created a small backlog of issues, so the first five were created before he’d gotten any response from publishing the first issue. By issue six, the publishing schedule had caught up with what he was making, and he starts to get letters, reviews and can give critiques of Fantagraphics’ solicitation copy.

There’s also a rather prescient parody of Eightball. Yes, the surrealism in Eightball would work well in a perfume commercial.

And speaking of prescient… (The one on the bottom, not the one about lightbulbs.)

It’s not all parodies and fun. He also has various exposés: Here he reveals the shocking truth about olive oil, apparently sincerely, like this was big news to him. And perhaps these shenanigans weren’t well-known in 1991?

But Russo seems in general rather credulous, willing to believe and print any old thing somebody tells him. Or perhaps he’s being ironic, pretending to believe this stuff?

Russo gets fan mail, which included a used condom. With fans like these…

Oh, yeah, I had forgotten to mention the many pages where he features his parents. (Russo was apparently living at home while doing Jizz.) He unfailingly portrays his father as a racist asshole. Which may well be true, but the way Russo does this makes it seem like he’s doing these strips as revenge (especially with that final panel).

Sales figures! My favourite. Apparently Jizz started at 3K copies, but by issue six, it’s down to 1,800. That can’t be healthy.

Russo tries to do an ad campaign with the slogan “The comic that doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Carol Kalish”. To give some context, Kalish was an editor and sales manager at Marvel comics, and had recently died. The Comics Buyer’s Guide had published a large number of remembrances from people about Kalish, and some people thought that it was a bit excessive.

If only The Comics Buyer’s Guide  had run it, it would probably have sent the circulation sky rocketing, right?

Russo tells how Fantagraphics came to publish him.

The most famous issue of Jizz, if those words in that order make any sense, is the ninth. It’s the story of what happened when Sam Henderson (the comic book humorist) sent a death threat to the president in Russo’s name.

The Secret Service took it seriously and sent out agents to investigate. The entire issue is about the event, and is drawn by Jeff Wong.

Russo’s parents immediately think he’s guilty and told the Secret Service that the note was in Russo’s handwriting.

The Secret Service determines pretty quickly that Russo is innocent, and further investigation leads Russo to point at Sam Henderson as the guilty part. The Secret Service conclude that, indeed, he is. Henderson sends a half-hearted apology to Russo half a year later, but doesn’t really explain why the prank happened.

Russo’s mom is given the opportunity to tell her side of the story.

I remember reading this, er, 25 years ago? Yes. And wondering whether it was true or just a hoax. I think I eventually assumed that it was true, because it’s such a stupid story, and nothing really horrible happened. Surely if Russo had made it up, the Secret Service people would be inefficient and moronic, I think my reasoning was.

But I’ve never checked before, so I Googled a bit now. It looks like other people think it’s true, too, so perhaps it is?

The final issue opens with a vicious parody of the autobio comics artists over at Drawn & Quarterly, drawn again by Jeff Wong. It’s a four page piece, with each page drawn in the style of one of Julie Doucet, Seth, Joe Matt and Chester Brown.

Russo notes that he hasn’t gotten much specific negative critique, other than from that Hernandez joke.

And then Jizz is cancelled, primarily because it’s losing money, but also because Groth has grown ambivalent about the work artistically.

I guess that’s me, too. Like I almost said earlier, it’s like reading an angsty sixteen-year-old’s secret diary slash art project, which is rather interesting. But Russo wasn’t sixteen when he did this, which makes it somewhat creepy, too.

After Jizz was cancelled, Russo didn’t publish anything more, apparently. Jizz has never been reprinted, and I would guess that it’s somewhat unlikely that that would ever happen. But you can still pick up all the issues quite cheaply.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

Journey #1-27, Journey: Wardrums #1-2 by William Messner-Loebs.

The first fourteen issues of Journey were published by Aardvark-Vanaheim. While this blog series is supposed to be about Fantagraphics, I just had to re-read them all.

I was about 14 when Journey started, and I remember being really enthusiastic about it. I’ve re-read the first handfuls of issues time and time again, but the last time I did that was probably in the late 80s. So I was really curious about what it would be like re-reading these comics now.

The publisher, Deni Sim (and earlier and later Loubert), explains how she came to publish Journey. That’s a pretty fabulous picture.

Anyway, I was surprised how much I remembered. I’ve found during this project that there aren’t that many specifics I remember about most comics, but I did remember this sequence. Wolverine MacAlistaire is being chased by a bear in this very cinematic sequence.

We’re introduced to the MacGuffin that’s the centre of the plot for the 27 issues: MacAlistaire is taking that package to a settlement, and we follow him as he meets people and has adventures.

The artwork is very Will Eisnerish, but applied to the 1812 and wildlife instead of 1950 and city life. It’s really quite special.

One of the weirder things Messner-Loebs does are these panels that randomly change orientation. He doesn’t do it a lot; just a handful of times, and I’m not quite sure what he’s trying to achieve here…

There’s the very occasional backup feature (like this one where he portrays himself and his wife Nadine working on Journey), but the comic book is very dependably 24 pages (or more) of the main feature.

While nature has a central presence in this book, scenes often happen like pictured above: The lack of backgrounds on some pages can be rather bewildering. There’s little clue to where this is happening, and why these people just happen to be standing around.

Messner-Loebs also loves putting his characters in thick fog, or like here, buried under snow. So are these things labour-saving devices, or is Messner-Loebs just really, really fond of negative space?

While the book deals with serious issues, it’s also very playful. There are lots of funny bits, and some downright incongruously goofy bits, like this “crossover” by normalman (a character created by Jim Valentino and also published by Aardvark-Vanaheim at the time). Modern readers of the collected version of Journey must have well-scratched heads.

I found this featurette about printing Journey interesting. Apparently, Messner-Loebs drove to Preney Print every month to oversee the printing of the comic book. That’s rather unusual, I think?

The last two Aardvark-Vanaheim issues of Journey have circulation numbers printed on the indicia page. 10K copies is a respectable number. But I wonder why just the two last issues have this information printed? Is it in any way connected to Messner-Loebs leaving Aardvark-Vanaheim to go to Fantagraphics, which was apparently a difficult divorce?

Hey! An early Sam Kieth page! Messner-Loebs would later go on to write the dialogue for Kieth’s The Maxx series.

And then, we finally move over to Fantagraphics with issue 15. Gary Groth explains that there had been some unpleasantness, and that subsequent issues would no longer be on newsprint.

And the whiter paper does suit Messner-Loebs’s art quite well. The blacks look blacker and nicer. But, on the other hand, you get more bleed-through, so…

Oh, I haven’t said anything about, like, plot and stuff…

It reads very much like Messner-Loebs has had the main plot of the book plotted out quite well in advance. There are hints made in the first issue that aren’t resolved until the twenty-sixth issue. But if that’s the case, it’s a somewhat oddly structured tale. Some issues don’t have MacAlistaire in them at all, and instead we follow the machinations behind a native uprising in a nearby fort. The shift happens organically, in that we’re following characters that MacAlistaire has encountered, but it’s still rather odd.

Eep! Apparently I had written a fan letter! I had completely forgotten that! How embarrassing.

Journey is, of course, a manly tale of manly deeds, but it’s also a lot like this stuff. (The guy who’s hitting is trying to help MacAlistaire.) It’s just such a pleasant reading experience: The mixture stops things from growing boring.

One thing that was often a problem is figuring out what order to read the word balloons in. Messner-Loebs often has entire conversations taking place inside a single panel, and sometimes you’re supposed to read all the leftmost balloons first, and then the rightmost, and sometimes you’re supposed to read the balloons horizontally.

Sometimes Messner-Loebs helps out by partitioning panels and thereby making it obvious that we should read horizontally in this instance. I think it works quite well.

Everybody loves a critic.

Sketchy remembrances… Also less to draw.

Oh, yeah, this was around the time of the controversy over Jack Kirby’s original art. Messner-Loebs supports the boycott, which probably didn’t make him very popular over at Marvel.

And then we come to the final issue, which has a different, coarser look than previous issues. Drawn smaller, perhaps?

The last issue of the series is a good final issue. It’s a proper ending, and not too many important things are left in the air, no matter what that character up there is saying.

The final story arc is good, but it’s perhaps the weakest arc in the series. It’s about a small community with too many generations of similar-named characters and deep, dark secrets involving murder, rape and abuse. So it’s the most conventional story arc by far, and some of the shocking reveals feel slightly clichéd.

It’s good, but I think the, er, nineish first issues are the strongest ones. I mean, they’re rather wonderful, and I want to re-read them again right now. They have an amazing atmosphere; a world that feels both real and magical.

The Messner-Loebseses participated in Hands Across America.

Messner-Loebs announces that Journey is cancelled, but will return as a series of limited series.

A note from Gary Groth is also included in the last issue, where he notes that he believes that comics historians will look back on Journey as one of the major achievements of the 80s. I’m afraid that’s probably not true. It has mostly been out of print, but I think that currently there’s an edition from IDW that’s possible to buy. But it’s not a series that I see referenced a lot.

One year later, as promised, the first Journey mini-series, Wardrums, is printed in sepia. Hm… I think I would have chosen a different colour. It’s too washed-out, and it doesn’t look very natural.

Then three years pass, and the next issue of Wardrums is published. Messner-Loebs explains that he’s gotten a lot of work writing super-heroes over at DC, and just haven’t had time.

I remember buying his super-hero series, and they weren’t bad or anything, but they were just … normal super-hero series. Hm… perhaps The Flash had more mundane stuff in it than most, but I remember finding the artwork somewhat unpleasant. So I stopped following his career at this point.

Oh, and the second Wardrums issue is not printed in sepia, but is instead printed on newsprint with black ink. An explanation for this is not proffered.

The second issue ends with a cliffhanger. No further issues were ever published.

Messner-Loebs has gone through hard times the last couple of decades, apparently. Buy the Journey collections.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

The Librarian by Penny Moran Van Horn.

Is that Steve Jobs?

Penny Moran Van Horn had earlier published short pieces in Weirdo and Twisted Sisters, but this was her first (and only, I think) solo publication (except the Recipe for Disaster and Other Stories compilation published later).

The story is about a slum lord librarian who is cursed (by voodoo) and then re-educated. Very odd.

The artwork is in Penny Moran Van Horn’s usual scratchboard style, but with typeset text floating around. I’m not quite sure that the juxtaposition of the very formal-looking text and the images here work as well as they should.

It’s frequently very fetching, like here, but some of the pages (like the one above this one above here (err)) seem slightly disjointed. But pleasurable to look at, nonetheless. I seem to recall her shorter stories from Twisted Sisters being very strong.

Her last published work was in 1998.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

Doofer: Pathway to McEarth by Paul Ollswang, Taft Chatham and James Carpenter.

This magazine reprints a few of the Ollswang pieces from Graphic Story Monthly and Prime Cuts, the two earliest “general” Fantagraphics anthologies. In addition, there’s a framing story of sorts…

… because this magazine was meant as an introduction to a graphic novel to be published later, called “McEarth”. To the best of my knowledge it was never published, which is a shame, because there’s so much here to enjoy.

The humour is rather gentle and relies on very silly word play a lot of the time, like here with The Statue of Limitations. (We later learn of an alien who is “The Flying Saucier: Gastro-Gnome”.) If things like that make you groan in feigned pain, this might not be the book for you.

I just think there’s something rather irresistible about this kinda hippyish, laid-back humour coupled with the 1920-ish cartooning. It rather reminds me of Krazy Kat in many ways: The slight vagueness and the way things flow instead of happen.

If only we’d heeded this warning! Google!

Sadly, Ollswang died in 1996. Somebody should get their act together and publish a retrospective.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

Crucial Fiction by Julian Lawrence and Mark Yuill.

Despite the name, I thought that perhaps this was an autobio series, just based on the intensity of the start of the first issue.

That certainly looks and reads like a confessional religious outsider autobiographical piece, but since it ends with the protagonist building a new Christ from communion wafers and wine, it probably isn’t.

The religious themes continue in the second issue, where we are witnessing a  retelling of the story of Pope Joan, the only female pope (in the 700s).

So now they have a stricter pope admission process in place. I have no idea whether either of these things are true, and I don’t care enough to google it, but it’s a more successful story than the first issue.

The short backup story is kinda amusing. She’s been given orders on how to sabotage society, or something.

And finally we have the story of the quack J. R. Brinkley who was transplanting goat glands into people in the 1920s. And that story is apparently true.

Tsk. Not fiction! You can’t trust anybody these days…

Lawrence and Yuill do not seem to have published a lot after Crucial Fiction was cancelled with the third issue.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.