World-famous cartoonist Dick Burger has earned millions and become the most powerful man in the comics industry in the few short years since the publication of his first CAPTAIN TOMORROW graphic novel. But behind his rapid rise to success, there lies a dark and terrible secret, as biographer Leonard Batts discovers when he visits Burger's hometown in remote New Zealand. For Hicksville is no ordinary small town. In Hicksville sheep-farmers and fishermen argue the relative merits of early newspaper strips, while in the local bookshop & lending library, obscure Mongolian minicomics share the shelves with a complete run of ACTION COMICS. But why does everyone there seem to hate Dick Burger? And what is the secret of the lighthouse? HICKSVILLE collects the main storyline from the ignatz-award nominated comic book PICKLE, and includes some 40 or so pages of new or revised material.
Horrocks has been involved in the New Zealand comic scene since the mid 1980s, when he co-founded Razor with Cornelius Stone and had his work published in the University of Auckland student magazine Craccum. Later in the decade he began to get international recognition, having work published by Australia's Fox Comics and the American Fantagraphics Books. He then moved to the United Kingdom where he self-published several mini-comics and co-founded Le Roquet, a comics annual. Upon returning to New Zealand in the mid 1990s, Horrocks had a half-page strip called 'Milo's Week' in the current affairs magazine New Zealand Listener from 1995 to 1997. He also produced Pickle, published by Black Eye Comics, in which the 'Hicksville' story originally appeared. Hicksville was published in book form in 1998, achieving considerable critical success. French, Spanish and Italian editions have since been published. In the last decade Horrocks has written and drawn a wide range of projects including scripts for Vertigo's Hunter: The Age of Magic and the Batgirl series, and Atlas, published by Drawn and Quarterly. Horrocks' work has been displayed at the Auckland Art Gallery and Wellington's City Gallery. In 2002 Hicksville won an Eisner Award for Talent Deserving of Wider Recognition, and the same year Atlas was nominated for the Harvey Award for Best Single Issue or Story in 2002. In 2006 he was appointed University of Auckland/Creative New Zealand Literary Fellow.[1] In an interview with Comics Bulletin, Horrocks claimed that his first words were 'Donald Duck'.
Quite simply one of the most AMAZING books I have read in a long while. Horrocks has penned a heartfelt -- and sometimes heartbreaking -- homage to comics and their creators that encompasses the full spectrum of the medium: from superheroes to self-published mini-comics to graphic novels. Hicksville is a magical place -- a tiny New Zealand town where the lending library includes the full run of Action Comics, the local teashop is called The Rarebit Fiend (after the Windsor McKay comic of the same name), and locals debate the literary merits of Sergio Aragones and Edgar P. Jacobs as freely as most of us chat about the weather, or politics. It is a place where your cartoonist friend that you haven't seen in some time will give you an autobiographical mini-comic describing what he's been up to instead of simply telling you. In other words, it is a place that those of us who love comics and zines visit sometimes in our dreams -- a utopian vision of comics creation and readership removed from the pressures and obligations of the marketplace.
But beyond creating this fantastic and wonderful place, and populating it with complex and three-dimensional characters, Horrocks has raised some pretty weighty issues -- about loyalty, love, and friendship, and how the need to pay the bills can lead us to compromise our most cherished beliefs and personal integrity. The main storyline follows Leonard Batts, an American writer for Comics World magazine, who travels to rural New Zealand in search of information about Dick Burger, the reigning giant of the American comics industry (thanks to his colossally successful Captain Tomorrow series) who was born and raised in Hicksville. Shortly after arriving in Hicksville, Batts quickly learns that Burger is almost universally despised among the townspeople, yet no one will tell him why.
Horrocks deftly interweaves Batts' attempts to get to the bottom of the mystery with the homecoming of Grace, a Hicksvillian who has returned to her hometown after several years of travels to face joyous but complicated reunions with friends, lovers, and her garden. Another voice in the narrative is that of Sam Zabel, the Hicksvillian cartoonist who has returned after a year of work for an Auckland humor magazine and has his own tales of woe and lost love to relate (which he does, naturally, in mini-comic form!). Horrocks brings all these threads together in an inventive technique that slips effortlessly between the present action and comics written by his characters about the past. It is a testament to Horrocks' skill as a cartoonist and storyteller that this technique never feels gimmicky or stilted; on the contrary, readers almost immediately forget that they are reading a comic within a comic and become engrossed in the unfolding action. In many respects, it is the comics equivalent of experimental novels like David Mitchell's "Cloud Atlas" and Richard Flanagan's "Gould's Book of Fish" (incidentally, two of my favorite novels from the past 5 years).
My friend Davey says that people who love Hicksville are "true comics believers," but I think even those without a deep knowledge of comics will enjoy this story and relish the innovative way that it is told. I loved it so much that I read it twice in two weeks, and will probably read again before it's due (of course SPL does not own it; I had to get it through ILL). Sad to say, Hicksville's been out of print for several years now -- so ILL's your best bet for tracking this baby down. Or perhaps you have a friend who is a superhuge indie comics collector -- most likely they'll own this one. Do whatever you need to do to get your hands on a copy. I swear you won't regret it.
I'm not sure why Hicksville has always appealed to me. It has all the abstruse ambiguity that characterizes the kind of literature I usually despise. When I encounter something like, say, a David Lynch film, I always want to make sense of it. I figure there must be some structure and logic, a clearly delineated metaphor that, once perceived, will rearrange all the disparate little pieces into a perfect level 18 high score in Tetris (with the giant rocket ship and everything). When that fails, I usually assume the author is fooling with me, and I get angry and frustrated.
This kind of thing pops up in Hicksville in the form of a comic that keeps appearing, page by page, in various places within the novel. The comic is about Captain Cook, marooned on an island in New Zealand, aided by the Maori warrior Hone Heke. They are trying to determine their exact location by studying maps and the stars, and even find a cartographer who is equally lost. It turns out the island is moving. The comic spans three realities in the graphic novel: in the beginning, a man named Augustus E. mails them to Dylan Horrocks himself, who is apparently wallowing in England; one of the characters, Leonard Bates, a comics journalist, keeps finding pages of the comic in odd places (at tea shops, blowing across a field, etc); finally, the Captain, Hone Heke, and the cartographer actually appear in Hicksville at a party, and Leonard chases after them and falls off a cliff.
I gather this all relates to Horrocks' thoughts on comics as a way of mapping time, and their potential for escaping time-based narrative in favor of geographic narrative, in which the fiction depicts spaces for a reader/user to explore, rather than a preset sequence of events. Maybe all the comics within comics are Horrocks' experiment in non-linear, parallel storytelling, and weaving together his own world, his fictional creation, and his creations' creations is his way of providing the reader with more space to explore. Whatever that means.
Actually, Hicksville is appealing for a bunch of basic reasons. Horrocks is an awesome cartoonist, suggesting vast oceanic skyscapes with a few light pen-strokes and suffusing his characters with depth and emotion using deceptively simple, almost childish, drawings. The writing is also excellent, and all the basic gags and tales are wonderful and entertaining. As Seth points out in the intro, the primary draw is probably the thin fog of mystery and wonder that pervades each page, as if the medium of comics were a force of nature.
Anyway, I still love this book, and I still don't know why.
Interesting more than successful. Journalist goes to Hicksville, home town of comics superstar Dick Burger (the idea of a universe where such a thing is even possible is fun, though not so much when the superstar is, first, a superhero comics guy and second, very aptly named), where he discovers a veritable cornucopia of comics goodness, including a library of hitherto unknown magnum opera by the greats of the field--and by others nobody knew did comics (e.g. Picasso). Simultaneously a love letter to comics as an art form and a poison pen letter to comics as a commercial enterprise, this book lacks (imo, naturally) a sufficiently clear or focused plot--it meanders, including elements that don't seem to fit together so much as being byways leading nowhere. The conceit also suffers from the fact that despite supposedly representing work by several different comics hands, the whole thing looks like it was drawn by the same person. Well, of course it WAS drawn but the same person, but without different visual cues for the different supposed artists for the comics within the comics, the conceit does not really succeed. (furthermore, since two male characters look very similar, it can at times be difficult to tell who we are even dealing with.) Also includes an odd side story about cartography and Captain Cook that, to my eyes anyway, does not really connect with the main narrative. Feels more improvised than planned.
This was a layered, thoughtful, funny, emotionally engaging read. Leonard Batts (great names), a biographer and somewhat naive and idealistic fan of a big-makher in the comics industry Dick Burger tries to learn about Burger's past by going to his home town Hicksville, a quirky, comic-obsessed small coastal town with a cast of characters who have yet to make peace with Burger's far from honorable behavior. I'm still not quite sure what the whole Augustus E comics were all about. Nor did I fully understand if the Maori stuff was a bit expoity. All in all, a great exploration of the history of comics from different angles.
When I was trying to learn more about the Augustus E thing I happened to come across this on the Hicksville site. I think was made by Horrocks? Couldn't quite figure out but loooove it. http://hicksvillecomics.com/1664
So uh, yeah. I liked the basic point this was making: commercialization kind of ruins things, but it means (in a meta-way, told through the stylistic changes throughout the story), that the masses get a whiff of the really great stuff that's not so commercial and more beautiful and more "art" than mass-market superheroes. Well, sure. But there are two reasons this basically didn't work for me.
1) I thought the plot was epically contrived and clunky. The characters only existed to serve it, and the twist/secret, while kind of a beautiful dream (spoiler! a lighthouse full of art comics!) was not all that revelatory.
2) I personally have no great love of or perhaps due respect for the history of superhero comics, or even to popular stuff like Tintin or Asterix or Moomin and so forth, to which the comics I love probably owe themselves utterly. So a story about the Dirty Business of Popular Comics comes as no great emotional betrayal to me. Of course comics is rough. There's a reason Bill Watterson quit. I maybe don't need to read a whole book just about that.
I wonder what makes people like this book so much. I did like the way he drew New Zealand ladies, tough, angry, dark, and very feminine. Except for the goofy cartoon-shop owner. I liked her too.
I reread this book in preparation for our interview with Dylan Horrocks, and I enjoyed even more this time around. Being familiar with the larger body of Horrocks's comics, I can better appreciate the narrative universe he has created. Throughout many of his texts, he interweaves various characters, settings, and situations. Hicksville is only a part of that world. In this way, I compare his work to that of Kim Deitch, who does similar things. What's more, Horrocks plays with issues of autobiographic self-representations, complicating the author-text relationship in fascinating ways. Again, this reminds me of Deitch's comics. I can even imagine a treaties on the two creators, comparing their works and narrative angles.
A smart and touching homage to the art of comics, limned with mystery and brimming with so many stories-inside-of-stories that it started to remind me of "At Swim Two-Birds."
A love letter to incomplete and unproduced comics masterpieces that got derailed by the industry. (One of which was recently completed is Kurtzman's A Christmas Carol).
It's the only book I can think of that is told with comics in an epistolary style. Instead of chatting about his experience, one of the characters just hands the protagonist his autobiographical comic book to peruse. It's a really cool concept that I'm surprised we haven't seen much of. I guess most people aren't cartoonists, so its not as obvious as using letters and newspaper clippings.
Unlike anything I've ever read, and one of the most engaging and interesting graphic novels there is. On several different dimensions of storytelling, we learn about the philosophy of sequential art, the nature of genius and storytelling, and a good pseudo-history of both New Zealand and comic studios. It seems like this should be up there with Understanding Comics or Maus as far as books that have been epic game-changers for the graphic novel. Wow.
Hicksville is a rich, rewarding and immensely emotional statement about the power of comics as a form, eschewing genre classification. Dylan Horrocks switches styles to induce an atmosphere of magical realism and there are knowing nods to the comics world, at least as it was in the mid-1990s, which are often very amusing. Yet distance and progress, such as the web-comic, in no way undermines this love letter to print.
At its most linear, Hicksville is the tale of Leonard Batts, a self-important comics journalist who’s travelled to New Zealand in order to research Dick Burger in his remote home town. Burger has parlayed status as a hot superhero artist, viewed as the heir to Jack Kirby, into a multimedia empire, but is unwilling to talk about his past. He’s a divisive figure in his birth town. That, though, barely scratches the surface of a small community where comics are revered in all forms. The local bed and breakfast is run by Mrs Hicks, a lady of late middle-age who further manages the town’s comics lending library, orders small press comics from Finland, and makes costumes for the annual Hogan’s Alley beach party.
Horrocks splices the story with samples of work by Burger and his forebears, depressed humour artist Sam Zabel, and a strip about Captain Cook and the settlement of Hicksville revealed in chance snippets, always with a timely comment on Batts’ current situation. There are also pages from an odd comic in an Eastern European style hybrid language by Cornucopian cartoonist Emil Kopen, and an affecting sequence where torn between two lovers Grace hears his thoughts about artistic creation.
The centrepiece is ostensibly a mini-comic by Zabel, Burger’s childhood friend, relating how he attended Burger’s ostentatious 30th birthday party, and how temptation was dangled when he’s flown to Los Angeles to see Burger’s comics factory. There is a catch. It’s also Horrocks’ savaging of comics as product, stepping stones to other media rather than objects of intrinsic worth. As Batts reduces his reception from Arctic to frosty, reasons for antipathy towards Burger are clarified.
Such is the trainspotting appeal of Hicksville to regular readers of comics, there’s a tendency to ignore the parallel love story. Grace left Hicksville with a wounded heart, travelled the world, indulged her botanic interests, yet has returned as conflicted as ever. She’s an intriguing character who in some ways represents the purity of vision without compromise, yet that also comes at a cost.
The whole is meta-fictional commentary, and in this manner the intimacy involved in the construction of Hicksville the town is as much wish-fulfilment as any superhero comic. The financial worth of individual comics is an irrelevance to Hicksville denizens, and the freeing of art from commercial needs is reinforced. Although a prelude features Horrocks himself, in many ways Zabel appears to be a stand-in, and Horrocks’ new introduction to the current edition clarifies how much of himself he poured into Hicksville.
It’s unlikely that anyone with no knowledge of comics will work their way toward Hicksville, but should that be the case, a detailed glossary is provided, also noting cultural references to New Zealand.
Horrocks supplies a telling quote from George Herriman as his closing note: “Real or unreal – fact or un-fact – it was a beautiful vision”. Whether the quote sums up his work, or he constructed the work around the quote, Hicksville lives up to it.
That was okay. All the characters remained side characters, no one really shone. I was curious about where things were heading the whole way through, and I don't think my curiosity was satisfied by the ending.
(Really more like 3.5 stars - 5 stars for the introduction though, and I could see this being a 4-star book for me if I were more interested in/knowledgable about comics in general.)
In general, I like graphic memoirs more than I like graphic novels or other kinds of comics. It's hard for me to articulate why that is, but something about a personal narrative in words + pictures is really appealing to me. As such, possibly my favorite part of this book was the introduction to this new (2010) edition, in which Horrocks talks about his own childhood connections to comics, Tintin especially, and his subsequent work as an artist creating them. The drawings of Tintin panels are great, and so is the rest of the introduction - I especially like a bit where we see Horrocks looking out a window at a view of sea and sky and mountains, his own frowning reflection looking back at him.
Not that I didn't like the book itself, too, which is about a journalist, Leonard Batts, who travels to Hicksville, a (fictional) tiny town in New Zealand, to learn more about his comic-book-writing hero, Dick Burger, who is from there. When he arrives, he finds that everyone in town really loves comics, and no one particularly seems to like Dick Burger: part of the story is Leonard (and us) finding out why. The book is full of comics quotes and references and in-jokes, and also full of comics itself—we get a mysterious strip about Captain Cook and the Māori leader Hōne Heke and the surveyor Charles Heaphy, plus a character's weekly strip for a humor magazine, plus a character's autobiographical mini-comic, and more. We also get the Māori story of how the North Island (Te Ika-a-Māui) came to be, and digressions on maps and map-making and navigating and art-making/storytelling, and a fair bit of tea, which Leonard, unfortunately, does not enjoy at all. Even outside of the comics within the book, the story jumps in location and time: we see one character, Grace, in the present/returning to Hicksville after time away; we also see some of her time away. There's a lot going on, is I guess what I am trying to say, and it mostly works, though some of the comics references were lost on me (there is a helpful glossary at the back, which I wish I'd known about sooner)! I like both the writing and the art, which is good at both big wordless pages full of water and sky and light and at detailed panels that show things like, for example, one character having a copy of If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino.
Crtani roman o autoru stripova, o jednom strip kritičaru, o izdajici stripova te o Hicksvilleu, jednom gradiću na rubu svijeta koji je Meka i Medina stripovskog svijeta, Aleksandrijska knjižnica stripova. Strip kritičar Leonard Batts uputi se na Novi Zeland, u rodno mjesto popularnog strip-magnata i biznismena Dicka Burgera, "najvećeg strip autora nakon Stana Leeja i Jacka Kirbyja". Kako bi što bolje poznao svog idola, nadajući se da će uhvatiti njegove formativne godine. Njegova potraga za istinom dovest će ga do raznih neobičnih (stripovskih) situacija.
Uz obilne digresije u obliku kratkih stripova, autor se ne libi koristiti različite forme kadriranja i prikazivanja vremena i radnje u stripu. Burgerova uspješnica je istoimeni strip i superjunak Kapetan Tomorrow, a primjerice lokalac Sam Zabel piše stripove o Moxie i Toxie, te strip o Mauru i kapetanu. Hicksville sadrži stripove unutar stripova, autor stripa u crtanom uvodu probije čak i četvrtu dimenziju, te se obrati čitatelju. Uvod je rađen za novo izdanje stripa, te autor u tom dijelu pokušava identificirati sve važne stripovske elemente svog života (kao stripaša).
Hicksville je serijaliziran u strip časopisu "Pickle" od 1993., objavljen u formi grafičke novele po prvi puta 1989. godine da bi ga 2001. ponovno objavio Drawn & Quartely s novonapisanim (i nacrtanim) uvodom. 2010. ponovno izlazi novo američko izdanje, a vrlo lijep intervju s autorom možete pročitati na CBR-u!
Za casual čitatelje, koji se primjerice bave bonellijevim stripovima s kioska vjerojatno će strip biti pomalo zahtjevan, na momente čak i naporan, budući da zahtijeva i stalnu pažnju i koncentraciju kako bi se mogle pohvatati sve stranputice, digresije i intermezzi. Horrocks uglavnom ne robuje standardnoj narativnoj strukturi i formi. Ne može se niti reći da autor pridaje važnost detaljnosti okoline, dok su likovi jednostavno nacrtani i stilizirani.
No, svaki čitatelj stripa mogao bi se prepoznati u Hicksvilleu, to je sveobuhvatna posveta stripu i strip-kulturu. Autor preispituje autorska prava, autorsku slobodu, tržište stripova, odnos između komercijalizacije strip industrije i stripa kao autorskog izražaja. Obraća se stripovskoj zajednici mnogim kontemplacijama o stripu, kao i drugim opažanjima o životu kroz strip formu.
Strip za više čitanja, i rekao bih, must have za kućnu biblioteku…
I nearly stopped reading this book. The beginning was so tedious and it uses what is one of my least favorite tricks: Mixing reality with the fantasy world created by the characters. Still, I was in a long enough train ride that I decided to keep reading. ...and I am so very glad I did. This book broke my heart. It really did. It brought back many memories of my (very small) tenure working in the comic books industry... I was there for the cool part of the 90s to witness a lot of uncool, unsavory stuff that went on in the business... so much so that I happily walked away from it all, even the people I had met in the business and were "friends". This book is hard to review because, after the tedious part is passed, I am left with a lot of "holy shite, I remember something like this" and "Crap, I had forgotten something like that actually happened!!". Quite a few times I put down the book to remember situations I witnessed and/or heard directly from those involved. Artists, who are supposedly more in touch with a higher way of thinking, behaving without any ethic or a social compass... they wanted success and did not care at all who they had to walk over to get it. That was the 90s comic book business for you: a cesspool of arsehole artists pretending to be nice guys. But I digress, I wholeheartedly recommend this book... it is a history lesson within a fictional setting. It has great art and, even though the characters simply exist to move the story forward, they are compelling enough with their own back stories. It makes me wish the town of Hicksville actually existed. I would be visiting as soon as possible! Great book, especially if you were around the business during the 90s.
A graphic novel, although the author prefers the less pretentious label "A Comic Book" which fits since this is a tribute to the under-appreciated genius of a previous generation of cartoonists -- Jack Kirby, Harvey Kurtzman, Wally Wood and others. A fun adventure of stories within comics within lost & found panels within dreams within stories -- a meta-fictional, Magical Realist mishmash. The young people of the mythical cartoonist village Hicksville, New Zealand are lost and disillusioned, but two different figures watch over them from two different libraries -- the benign, loving, unflappable and grandmotherly Mrs. Hicks and the mysterious hermit in the lighthouse.
From the forward: the book expresses regret at the "wasted potential of a medium." Hicksville's two libraries reflect "the truth of what comics actually have been. An industry that, for the most part, robbed artists of the chance of doing their real work. An industry that forced great cartoonists to waste their talents hacking out insipid stories for a half interested audience." Despite this sad message, the book itself is a delight.
Man, just when I was thinking I was getting to be a real comics geek, I had to read something like this.
Horrocks' Hicksville is something like a comic enthusiast's fever dream. Along with an American comics journalist, we discover a village WAY off the beaten track that is surreally comics-centric. Everyone in the whole town is super comics-saavy.
It's magical. And idyllic (for a certain strain of person). And a bit, well, suspicious.
I didn't get it all - this thing is reference-central - but I enjoyed what I got and was sucked into the story. It made me think about comics, the comics industry, stardom, friendship, and the good old lifestyle choices we all make every day.
4-1/2 stars. A surprisingly meta graphic novel from 1998. All kinds of boundaries are crossed in this work, except one -that force field which separates the literary graphic novels from the superhero genre (Hicksville adds death rays and photon cannons to that boundary, and it's a good thing, 'cause all comics are not created equal). Hicksville NZ is my new happy place. I want to go there and sit in the Rarebit Fiend with a pavlova and a hot cuppa reading all the purloined treasures in utter bliss. This is a long strange trip, but worth every step. Beware of Fang as you approach.
Excelente comic. Bastante metatextualidad. Historias dentro de otras Grandes tributos a toda la historia del cómic y su industria. Una muy grata sorpresa!
There are a lot of avenues to this book, especially for fans of the golden age of comics, but what I'll focus on is the central narrative and its offshoots into creative process.
Fanboy/critic Leonard Batts trying to find out why internationally beloved comics guru Dick Burger is hated in his hometown of Hicksville, where everyone has a deep love and appreciation for comics of all types, is the thing that interests me most of all, and when the story puts its energy there, I feel like there isn't a lot of time wasted, even if the story itself ticks along at an oddly-understated pace. The meta-fiction leanings of this story, particularly the use of other comics to support the larger Hicksville work, are hit (Sam's four-part Stars series) or miss (the mysterious cartography-based comics that keep finding their way to Leonard) for me. I can appreciate all of them, though, and I'm sure back in the mid-90s they stood out amongst all the lackadaisical slackervision wonderment that seemed to go on.
Maybe the bet part is when a side-story involving Grace translating an interview for comics-creator Emil Kopen turns into him espousing his theories on narrative craft and creative works as maps. He claims that while maps use both pictures and words, some maps use only one. This leads to poetry and comics and all other sorts of written art operating on the tension of distance. He says it's a "proximity of bodies" that causes drama, the distance between the character and what they desire. Time, therefore, is a distraction, something that is merely happenstance in the fluctuating gap of desire.
Like most of the other book, even the parts that went over my head or flailed about trying to do so, it's interesting and most likely a metaphor for how the comics world works. I think Daniel Clowes's Pussey is a more concise and streamlined (and funnier and, full-disclosure, I'm more of a fan of Clowes) look at the comics industry, but Hicksville's layers are probably rewarded upon multiple reads, and I can understand why it's found such a devoted fanbase.
The question this book (and Pussey, for that matter) poses is essentially "If creativity is the prime morality of this artistic medium, how can it be cultivated and sustained through droughts and surpluses of the satisfaction and money needed to survive?"
I can't fault this book or any other for not having an answer. When that question is mixed more directly with a narrative, and once I worked my way through the artistic indulgences that didn't appeal to me, I had a good time.
É muito fácil apaixonarmo-nos por um livro destes. Hicksville é mais do que uma história de banda desenhada, é uma elegia ao amor pelos comics, que como o autor coloca na brilhante introdução (só essas páginas já fazem valer o livro), são janelas para outros mundos que despertam a imaginação e a vontade de explorar o que está para lá dos limites da vinheta.
Hicksville é uma aldeia ficcional neo-zelandesa, onde chega um jornalista americano em busca da história de vida de Dick Burguer, o mais bem sucedido criador de comics contemporâneos, editor dos maiores sucessos mas detestado na sua terra de origem. Enquanto se tenta integrar na peculiar vila da Nova Zelândia, acaba por descobrir um mundo que deve algo às bibliotecas de Jorge Luís Borges, uma localidade onde a vida dos habitantes gira à volta da banda desenhada e cujo farol contém um arquivo de todos os comics jamais publicados: os sonhos, as obras-primas de argumentistas e desenhadores que nunca foram impressos por não respeitarem as vontades do mercado, os gostos dos editores ou as convenções dos fãs.
O livro é enganadoramente linear. Enquanto a história das conquistas de Dick Burguer se desenrola, numa clara crítica ao establishment das grande editoras comerciais e as suas edições repetitivas, o autor mergulha-nos numa variedade de estilos enquanto analisa a vida das principais personagens. O resultado é uma surpreendente e coerente colagem estilística que homenageia as principais tendências da banda desenhada, do cartoon ao manga, sem esquecer a ligne claire franco-belga e o género mais mediático do comic de super-heróis.
Intimista, esta banda desenhada transmite-nos o amor de um autor pelo género, renovando no leitor a magia das histórias aos quadradinhos.
Erikoinen, monitasoinen ja ajoittain hieman hämmentävä sarjakuvaromaani kuvittellisesta sarjakuvakaupungista Hicksvillestä ja sen suuresta sarjakuvantekijäsankarista Dick Burgerista.
Sarjakuvatoimittaja saapuu Hicksvilleen suuren sarjakuvantekijän Dick Burgerin nuoruudenkaupunkiin tutustumaan Burgerin nuoruudenmaisemiin. Hän haluaa tehdä kirjan Burgerista, mutta törmääkin Hicksvillessä näkymättömään vihamielisyyden muuriin. Kukaan ei suostu kertomaan, miksi Dick Burgeria vihataan niin paljon. Hicksville taas on todella erikoinen paikka; kaikki pitävät sarjakuvista ja tietävät niistä enemmän, kuin edes kyseinen sarjakuvatoimittaja. Jopa kaupungin sarjakuvakirjakauppa/kirjastossa on sarjakuvahistorian harvinaisuuksia, joita toimittaja ihmettelee silmät suurina. Tälle on kyllä syynsä, sillä Hicksvillellä on salaisuus, joka liittyy myös Dick Burgerin vihattuun menestykseen.
Hicksvillen sarjakuvataide ei ole kummoista, mutta tarina vie kyllä mukanaan. Tyylit muuttuvat usein, sillä tämän sarjakuvaromaanin sisällä kulkee jatkuvasti muita sarjakuvia. Samalla kirja on pienimuotoinen dekkari, sillä ratkaistavia arvoituksia on enemmän kuin yksi. Hicksville vilisee sarjakuvaiittauksia ja supersankarijuttuja, mitkä itselleni olivat vähän vieraampia. Tässä uudemmassa painoksessa on uusi, mielenkiintoinen intro tarinaan. Osin liikuttavassakin introssa oli sentään jotain itsellenikin tuttua, mikä ehkä antoi olettaa tarinalta hieman enemmän, kuin mitä se sitten lopulta antoi.
A recent conversation with a friend regarding Hicksville:
Friend: "I don't know why everybody loves it." Me: "It's his love letter to comics." F: "It's an awful love letter to comics. If I were comics, and I got that letter, I'd say, 'Yeah, look, I just got out of a relationship . . .'" M: "I think we should see other media?" F: "Yeah."
While I don't feel as strongly as my friend, on reading it again after ten years, I see her point. This is a very ambitious work, an attempt to write a literary comic book novel centered around big ideas about the development of comics as an art form, through the device of the backwater town of Hicksville, New Zealand. In this town, everybody seems to be a comics enthusiast. Even the hard edged farmer has thoughtful and passionate opinions on obscure English cartoonists. But while Horrocks's ambition is to be commended, his reach exceeds his grasp. The central mystery in this book would have made a fascinating speculative essay, but instead this mystery is hinted at by fairly undeveloped characters, who often go aggravatingly out of their way to not speak directly about the secret at the center of Hicksville.
People who don't deeply love the history and form of comics probably won't get much out this book, but then again, those who do, like me and my friend, may not either. It's a book that's easier to admire than to love.
Man, reading graphic novels is an expensive hobby. It usually works out to about 20 bucks per sitting (which is considerably more expensive than watching Hot Tub Time Machine from Netflix). I know they take a long time to write and craft and all that, but being a comics poseur is pricey enough. How do the true junkies do it? Do they eat?
Anyway, it's probably unfair to begin my review this way. It's not Horrocks' fault, and his book took me longer to pour through than the average graphic novel. Overall, I was really impressed with the levels of comics within comics in this baby. The town of Hicksville is a magical place where everyone loves comics and seems to communicate best with them. Thus there are all kinds of meta-levels of comic book existence going on there. But, beneath it all lurks a dark dark secret about their local artist made good. Part love letter to the medium, part mystery, Hicksville delivers the goods complete with salty sea captains, profane and beautiful gardeners, and a wondrous lighthouse library that would make the guy at my local comics shop have his first orgasm (oh snap!). It comes recommended if you have 20 bucks to spend on a few hours of life.
P.S. The art work isn't always mind-blowing, but the diversity in style keeps things fresh.