The Voice of London Episode XII

Apologies to those who find my interest in comic books painfully uninteresting and unbelievably geeky because this episode will focus primarily on that subject. And of course by apologies I mean shut your damn trap I'll write about whatever the hell I want. So anyways, I've been doing a lot of reading lately. Among the more recent books that have held my attention are Joe Sacco's Palestine and Persepolis 1 & 2 by Marjane Satrapi. Both are works of non-fiction. The first is an account of Joe Sacco's two months spent in the West Bank and Gaza Strip towards the end of the first intifada. While it certainly works as a condemnation of the treatment of the Palestinians at the hands of the Israelis, it doesn't heroicize their resistance either. Despite it being almost fifteen years old at this point it (unfortunately) still has a lot of relevance and I would recommend it to anyone wanting a very human account of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Continuing the theme of wars in the Middle East (out of opportunity more than a specific desire on my part) I took out Persepolis and Persepolis 2 after returning Palestine to the library. The two books comprise the memoirs of the Iranian born Satrapi. The first details her early childhood in Tehran until the age of fourteen when her parents sent her to be schooled in Austria to escape the war that erupted with Iraq. The second book deals with her life in Austria and her return to Iran. There story is illustrated in a simple style that belies its complex content. As a portrait of life under a repressive religious regime it is quite illuminating. I'm not sure I'll ever comprehend the kind of socially and psychologically destructive strictures that are enforced in the name of religion. I say this in reference to both Islam and Christianity. Of course, this can apply to any religion but I mention those two specifically because they are the two most widespread religions and in many instances the most repressive.
Prior to these books I took the time to read Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth. Don't let the name fool you. It is actually one of the most depressing books I have ever read. It's about the titular Jimmy Corrigan, a socially awkward man, approaching middle age and put upon by a domineering mother, who lives in Chicago and takes a trip to Michigan one Thanksgiving to meet his estranged father. The book cuts between this story and the story of Jimmy's paternal grandfather and his childhood, being raised by his single parent father. Despite an ending that is open to interpretation as to the fate of the main character's happiness, I think the most telling (and depressing) part of the book comes shortly before the end. Upon learning that his mother would be remarrying, Jimmy Corrigan, an extremely alienated and discontent individual, says "I couldn't be happier." In that line there is such excruciating irony and a horrible, bleak truth that it dims any hope for a happy resolution. At the same time the book is a magnificent example of the potential of the comics medium. Its complex structure and dense, recurring symbolism have led to comparisons to Joyce's Ulysses. As such I feel I shouldn't recommend the book because, why bother? Who would read Ulysses on someone's recommendation? Especially if, immediately before recommending it, they were told reading it would make them feel bad. Maybe people who have a lot of free time and generally spend it listening to Joy Division and Black Heart Procession. I should clarify that, while depressing, it is not a book that would appeal to emo kids. There are no overwrought emotions and characters don't wallow in darkness. Emotions are repressed and characters meekly trudge through the soul-crushing bleakness of their existence. Merry Christmas!

Irascibly yours,
Matthew Hawkins