In this week’s Small Press Spotlight, I take a look at a recent release from Drawn and Quarterly by legendary creator Daniel Clowes (Ghost World, Art School Confidential). His book Wilson was just released on April 27th, but it’s already earning him praise for everything from the diverse artwork to the misanthropic and incredibly memorable lead to the sheer heft and richness of design of the book itself.
Seriously, D & Q put some serious effort into making this book an experience in all facets of its being.
Check after the jump for my look at Clowes’ latest effort, and chime in afterwards if you own a differing opinion. God knows Wilson would, so why shouldn’t you?
As a reader of this work of fiction, I have to mention the very first thing I observed about the entire exercise, and that is the almost absurdly high quality production value of its packaging. From the ultra thick covers to the exquisite designs on them to the telling inside covers (littered with the name “Wilson” in different fonts), everything is a grand undertaking at the throne of Wilson.
And it only makes sense, as this entire book is basically “The World According to Wilson”, following a misanthropic man on a journey of discovery. What does he discover? That he pretty much hates everyone and everything, and eventually (eventually) that staring out at lakes is a worthwhile activity (it will make sense when you read it).
The story is told in serialized one page (mostly six panel) cartoon strips in which the only constant is our titular hero. In a lot of ways, it reads like a demented spin on Charles Schulz’s Peanuts, following the core character around as he interacts with society but removing all of his superego and leaving an extra helping of id and ego. Even the way the stories are laid out lends favor to that comparison, as the comic is told in a range of artistic styles that includes some Schulz-esque work.
The thing about this comic is if you can handle the lead character and you can find redeeming qualities in him, you’ll appreciate this book. A lot. I enjoyed it immensely, as I think everyone deep down can appreciate the completely uncensored nature of Wilson if they allow themselves to. Whether he’s raging on a man he meets in the airport who can’t define his work without saying things like “implementing managerial strategies” or the soullessness of dealing with computers constantly, Wilson is simply stating the things that we all are thinking. There isn’t a lot of repression in this character’s day-to-day life, and it makes his uncontrollable id all the more entertaining.
With that said, this isn’t just a guy going around ripping on people. There is an actual character arc here, as we begin with exposition, transition into Wilson’s father dying, then into his trying to rekindle his former marriage, to his time in prison, and finally to the twilight years of his life. The interesting thing about Wilson as a character is the unflinching nature of his observations and his extreme lack of repression are what make his personal life such a shabby exercise. Wilson’s solipsistic nature makes him an unliked son, husband and father (and eventually a prisoner), and contributes to his deep-seated pessimism and loneliness.
One of the most intriguing things I took from this read wasn’t my take on what happened on the pages of the book itself, but filling in the blanks of Wilson’s life around him. Clowes as a creator challenges you to do that, and it makes the read itself all the more enticing.
As I mentioned earlier, there is a range of artistic styles used in this book. Clowes vacillates in a spectrum between realistic to almost comically not, with the size and shape of Wilson’s nose leading the way almost exclusively. There is something remarkable about the changing styles and how it juxtaposes with the happenings on the page: while Wilson and his surroundings may change visually constantly, everything is the same when you get to the core of it. Subtextually speaking, I’m unsure if that’s what Clowes is going for, but that’s what I took out of it.
This book is an often darkly funny book that judgmental people (such as myself) will likely gleefully read rather briskly. While some may bristle at what an unrepentant asshole Wilson is, check your superego at the door folks and bask in the creative output Clowes has given us here. It’s a beautiful package that harbors a remarkable bastard inside its covers, and to me, he’s a remarkable bastard worth getting to know.
