Upozornění: poslední kus skladem!
Let’s just say that I never had much respect for comics. Besides some Tintin or Disney entertainment, I was largely indifferent to what I thought of as profane jokes on the back of thin newspapers. I never explored the world of comics which I knew to be set at places like the Simpsons’Android’s Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop, populated by teenage boys eager to sublimate adolescent fear and frustration by sucking on untouchable superhero fantasies in cellophane.
So, when I passed the window of a dedicated local comic dealer in late 2000, I had not planned to slow down, let alone go inside. But that day the usual kaleidoscope of lurid covers was dimmed by the centerpiece on display: a 380-page volume, landscape format, two inches wide, standing out visually against the rest with gravitational presence. I bought Jimmy Corrigan – The Smartest Kid on Earth without asking for the price.
It took me a while to realize what exactly I had bought, and I failed to make the connection to Art Spiegelman’sMaus – a complex analysis of Spiegelman’s relationship with his father and the family’s history against the background of the Holocaust – which I had come across as a kid, however never thought of as a comic. I simply didn’t know there was a thing called graphic novel, as coined by Richard Kyle in 1964. But like anybody who holds Chris Ware’s work in his hands for the first time, I instantly felt its creative impact.