A Splendid American

Back in December I bought, and read, a compilation of American Splendor – The Life and Times of Harvey Pekar, a graphic novel, or rather collection of comics, for which I had been searching for quite a while. It took a little getting used to but didn’t disappoint. Today I’ve been dipping into the collection in a random sort of manner (between getting on with ‘real’ work) and found that, if anything, it grows in power through repeated readings.

Now this is a bit odd. What was initially disconcerting about the work was the utterly mundane nature of the subject matter – the rather dull life of Pekar – and the largely unattractive nature of the character at its centre – Pekar is not a nice guy by any stretch of the imagination. The stories have, for the most part, that ‘So what?’ quality that ‘slice of life’ short stories of the early twentieth century (I’m thinking of the bad ones) abound in. So why does the material seem to gain in significance the more you read it?

Perhaps the answer lies in the notion that every life is deeply significant to the person living it. The sheer hubris of Pekar in terms of getting artists (he works with a whole string of collaborators) to illustrate his tales means we are confronted by a version of ourselves: we could do this; we could translate the mundan-ity of all we are, with our small insights and smaller problems, into a medium like this and others would be able to identify with us and, somehow, that would be enough.

Something else: the sheer honesty of Pekar’s warts and all portrait makes you feel all the more that this is real and because it is real it is significant. Yet you wonder to what degree the Pekar of American Splendor is a carefully crafted mask for another Harvey that doesn’t make it into the books, Harvey as creator, selecting so craftily it doesn’t like any conscious process of selection is going on.

I don’t think I’ve read anything else recently that has made me reflect on the fabric of my life with the intensity that this has.

Least mundane moment of today: a squirrel found its way into our living room this afternoon. We just had time to register its presence and the rascal was out through the door. We felt privileged. I hope the squirrel felt likewise.