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Like A Velvet Glove Cast In Iron
Clay Loudermilk stumbles into a screening of a bizarre snuff film that wraps him up in a mystery surrounding a series of cult-inspired killings, dubbed “The Harum Scarum Murders.” The subsequent path Loudermilk’s life takes is both a terrifying journey into madness and jaw-dropping tour-de-force of visual imagination fraught with psychosexual and conspiratorial tension.
144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1993
52 people are currently reading
5328 people want to read
About the author
Daniel Clowes
105 books1,903 followersDaniel Clowes is an American cartoonist, graphic novelist, illustrator, and screenwriter whose work helped define the landscape of alternative comics and bring the medium into mainstream literary conversation. Rising to prominence through his long-running anthology Eightball, he used its pages to blend acidic humor, social observation, surrealism, and character-driven storytelling, producing serials that later became acclaimed graphic novels including Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron, Ghost World, David Boring, Ice Haven, and Patience. His illustrations have appeared in major publications such as The New Yorker, Vogue, and The Village Voice, while his collaborations with filmmaker Terry Zwigoff resulted in the films Ghost World and Art School Confidential, the former earning widespread praise and an Academy Award nomination for its screenplay. Clowes began honing his voice in the 1980s with contributions to Cracked and with his Lloyd Llewellyn stories for Fantagraphics, but it was Eightball, launched in 1989, that showcased the full range of his interests, from deadpan satire to psychological drama. Known for blending kitsch, grotesquerie, and a deep love of mid-century American pop culture, he helped shape the sensibilities of a generation of cartoonists and became a central figure in the shift toward graphic novels being treated as serious literature. His post-Eightball books continued this evolution, with works like Wilson, Mister Wonderful, The Death-Ray, and the recent Monica exploring aging, identity, longing, and the complexities of relationships, often through inventive visual structures that echo the history of newspaper comics. Clowes has also been active in music and design, creating artwork for Sub Pop bands, the Ramones, and other artists, and contributing to film posters, New Yorker covers, and Criterion Collection releases. His work has earned dozens of honors, including multiple Harvey and Eisner Awards, a Pen Award for Outstanding Body of Work in Graphic Literature, an Inkpot Award, and the prestigious Fauve d’Or at Angoulême. Exhibitions of his original art have appeared across the United States and internationally, with a major retrospective, Modern Cartoonist: The Art of Daniel Clowes, touring museums beginning in 2012. His screenplay work extended beyond Ghost World to projects like Art School Confidential and Wilson, and he has long been a touchstone for discussions about Generation X culture, alternative comics, and the shifting boundaries between the literary and graphic arts.
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July 18, 2024
This book didn’t mean anything. Books that don’t mean anything have no right to exist. To exist is to possess meaning. Meaning cannot exist without existence. Existence is what gives meaning its meaning, and its existence. This book is meaningless, therefore nothing exists (especially not this book).
An Interesting Production:
A man undertakes a particularlyfutile meaningless endeavor to discover the origins of a fetish film. He encounters many eccentric meaningless characters with ponderous meaningless theories about existence and what everything means and stuff. Lots of other crazy shit happens.
Location, Location, Evocation:
Have you been here before? Have you made love on the shore of that small island? Have you seen that (I-swear-to-god-that-exact) boulder in your dream? Have you been served by an egg-laying, pseudopodinous potato lady in that diner? Have any meaningless events ever lead you somewhere you know you had been before? Have you ever recognized something you have never seen before? Have you ever seen something or someone somewhere and said to yourself ”I shouldn’t be here right now”?
Analytical Meaninglessness:
We are pattern seeking creatures with aggravating limitations on understanding. It infuriates us when we experience something we can’t quite piece together, especially when there seem to be hints that suggest some sort of cohesiveness is there to be discovered.
Everything has to mean something; it just has to! If it can’t be figured out, accompanying it is sheer madness and chaos. If even one thing (such as this graphic novel, or a David Lynch film, or a devastating tornado) can’t have any meaning ascribed to it, existence itself as we ‘understand’ (wink wink) it is in jeopardy. Perhaps this book is precisely the anti-revelation we need.
Personal thoughts that won’t mean anything to anyone, including myself:
-As a Midwesterner, the idea of a Paul Bunyan Funeral Home threatens of a strange cathartic dread as inexplicable as the idea of a Paul Bunyan Funeral Home. (I wonder if the Coen Brothers wish they had thought of that…) Presumably incidental, Clowes may have thought some kid with fond childhood memories of eating breakfast at a certain restaurant in the Wisconsin Dells who has been obsessed with death and mortality since his aforementioned childhood would read this work andinnocuously meaninglessly ruminate over these elements.
-Harum Scarum—like Helter Skelter—murder—cults—maybe? What does it mean, damn it!?
Wrapping Up/An unwillingness to continue on in such obnoxious tedium:
Do people know what they mean when they say ‘there was an incident’? If something can be defined in two different ways with opposite meanings, such as ‘an individual or isolated event or occurrence’ and ‘something appertaining or attaching to something else’, then describing or explaining anything (meaningless or otherwise) is just as meaningless as that which we are attempting to describe or explain. (You’re still with me, right?) The takeaway is everything or nothing, at bottom or from up top.
An Interesting Production:
A man undertakes a particularly
Location, Location, Evocation:
Have you been here before? Have you made love on the shore of that small island? Have you seen that (I-swear-to-god-that-exact) boulder in your dream? Have you been served by an egg-laying, pseudopodinous potato lady in that diner? Have any meaningless events ever lead you somewhere you know you had been before? Have you ever recognized something you have never seen before? Have you ever seen something or someone somewhere and said to yourself ”I shouldn’t be here right now”?
Analytical Meaninglessness:
We are pattern seeking creatures with aggravating limitations on understanding. It infuriates us when we experience something we can’t quite piece together, especially when there seem to be hints that suggest some sort of cohesiveness is there to be discovered.
Everything has to mean something; it just has to! If it can’t be figured out, accompanying it is sheer madness and chaos. If even one thing (such as this graphic novel, or a David Lynch film, or a devastating tornado) can’t have any meaning ascribed to it, existence itself as we ‘understand’ (wink wink) it is in jeopardy. Perhaps this book is precisely the anti-revelation we need.
Personal thoughts that won’t mean anything to anyone, including myself:
-As a Midwesterner, the idea of a Paul Bunyan Funeral Home threatens of a strange cathartic dread as inexplicable as the idea of a Paul Bunyan Funeral Home. (I wonder if the Coen Brothers wish they had thought of that…) Presumably incidental, Clowes may have thought some kid with fond childhood memories of eating breakfast at a certain restaurant in the Wisconsin Dells who has been obsessed with death and mortality since his aforementioned childhood would read this work and
-Harum Scarum—like Helter Skelter—murder—cults—maybe? What does it mean, damn it!?
Wrapping Up/An unwillingness to continue on in such obnoxious tedium:
Do people know what they mean when they say ‘there was an incident’? If something can be defined in two different ways with opposite meanings, such as ‘an individual or isolated event or occurrence’ and ‘something appertaining or attaching to something else’, then describing or explaining anything (meaningless or otherwise) is just as meaningless as that which we are attempting to describe or explain. (You’re still with me, right?) The takeaway is everything or nothing, at bottom or from up top.
August 8, 2016
Has the American heartland ever looked more desolate and repulsive? Originally published in the pages of Dan Clowes’ one-man anthology Eightball (once described by Clowes himself as “an orgy of spite, vengeance, hopelessness, despair and sexual perversion”), Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron takes the reader on an obsessive, disturbing, darkly humorous, often surreal and grotesque journey into a seedy world of corruption, sadism and conspiracy theories. What’s not to like?
September 21, 2014
Have you seen your life destroy itself through an addiction to cocaine?
I haven't, but I understand your deal because there was a time I would have killed loved ones in order to get my hands on my next Eightball. Of course I adored the self-contained shorts of zesty social satire like I Love You Dearly (a gorgeously snide diatribe on stuff Clowes hates) or In the Future (where the worst of Now is trebled to an extreme Tomorrow), or the awful portrait of the comix world demonstrated in Dr. Infinity, not to mention the hilarious Chick Publications send-up in Devil Doll?, and I'd impatiently discuss such stuff with my Eightball dealer at the comix store, looking this way and that, trying to disguise the intensity of my desire, when all I really wanted, craved, needed, was the latest serial installment of Like a Velvet Glove (a reference to Faster, Pussycat, Kill! Kill! btw) because I couldn't wait to temper my troubles at making sense of its previous episodes by trying to make sense of the latest one.
If you know of a better graphic novel than this, I dare you to let me know, and it better not be any of that anime crap.
I haven't, but I understand your deal because there was a time I would have killed loved ones in order to get my hands on my next Eightball. Of course I adored the self-contained shorts of zesty social satire like I Love You Dearly (a gorgeously snide diatribe on stuff Clowes hates) or In the Future (where the worst of Now is trebled to an extreme Tomorrow), or the awful portrait of the comix world demonstrated in Dr. Infinity, not to mention the hilarious Chick Publications send-up in Devil Doll?, and I'd impatiently discuss such stuff with my Eightball dealer at the comix store, looking this way and that, trying to disguise the intensity of my desire, when all I really wanted, craved, needed, was the latest serial installment of Like a Velvet Glove (a reference to Faster, Pussycat, Kill! Kill! btw) because I couldn't wait to temper my troubles at making sense of its previous episodes by trying to make sense of the latest one.
If you know of a better graphic novel than this, I dare you to let me know, and it better not be any of that anime crap.
February 4, 2022
After seeing his ex-girlfriend in a bizarre film in a seedy theater, Clay Loudermilk goes looking for her and winds up ensnared in a conspiracy and runs afoul of some strange people.
I've been a fan of Dan Clowes since he did The Uggly Family in Cracked magazine about a thousand years ago. I grabbed this during the Fantagraphics sale last November.
This is one wild toboggan ride! Bizarre, unsettling, and lots of fun. Clay Loudermilk steps into a cowpie of strangeness, meeting a fish girl, a dog with no orifices, conspiracy nuts, a cult bent on bringing about a war between the sexes, and a creator of snuff films, among other things.
Clowes' art isn't as refined as it is these days but the groundwork is there. Clowes draws attractive women, homely women with droopy boobs, a fish girl, grotesque guys, and a lot of other weird shit with great skill. Lots of bad shit befalls Clay on his journey and the ending isn't all peaches and gravy.
I don't think I've conveyed just how strange this book is but it's better experienced anyway.
Live a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron is a nonstop parade of the strange. Four out of five stars.
I've been a fan of Dan Clowes since he did The Uggly Family in Cracked magazine about a thousand years ago. I grabbed this during the Fantagraphics sale last November.
This is one wild toboggan ride! Bizarre, unsettling, and lots of fun. Clay Loudermilk steps into a cowpie of strangeness, meeting a fish girl, a dog with no orifices, conspiracy nuts, a cult bent on bringing about a war between the sexes, and a creator of snuff films, among other things.
Clowes' art isn't as refined as it is these days but the groundwork is there. Clowes draws attractive women, homely women with droopy boobs, a fish girl, grotesque guys, and a lot of other weird shit with great skill. Lots of bad shit befalls Clay on his journey and the ending isn't all peaches and gravy.
I don't think I've conveyed just how strange this book is but it's better experienced anyway.
Live a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron is a nonstop parade of the strange. Four out of five stars.
March 22, 2015
Reading this after having read his other, more famous, graphic novel Ghost World and it's sarcastic, funny and honest story about a pair of directionless teenagers, I was completely unprepared for the dream-like (perhaps "nightmare like" would be more accurate) world of Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron. I'm all for a little surrealism but I cannot take this much, quite simply. After reading the novel I had no idea what it was that I'd just read, had no clue regarding how all its seemingly disparate parts linked together and consequently, had absolutely no idea what to make of it.
This novel was just not suited to me in any way, but if you like David Lynch films and graphic novels and do not expect any kind of coherent plot, then I wish you luck with it. The thing is that I just do not think that there is any secret or hidden meaning to this work: I think it's just mindless abstract drivel. And that's annoying.
This novel was just not suited to me in any way, but if you like David Lynch films and graphic novels and do not expect any kind of coherent plot, then I wish you luck with it. The thing is that I just do not think that there is any secret or hidden meaning to this work: I think it's just mindless abstract drivel. And that's annoying.
January 26, 2012
If you’re looking for a sweet little story, full of puppies and rainbows, this is not it. Daniel Clowes’ Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron is like a fever-dream nightmare noir, that’s both simultaneously fucked-up and sorrowful, and although it’s highly surreal, it somehow manages to make sense, in a super-claustrophobi-expiali-chaotic sort of way. So, naturally, it is easily comparable to David Lynch’s more experimental works, however, unlike Mr. Lynch, Mr. Clowes does not need to include an instructional pamphlet of clues on how to better read or interpret his work (cough-cough, Mulholland Drive, cough-cough-COUGH).
The story cuts to our protagonist, Clay, who, when viewing a snuff film at a porno-theater, sees his estranged wife on screen. He learns from the bathroom-stall psychic wise man that an independent outfit known as Interesting Productions made it. Clay borrows his fish-tails-coming-out-of-his-eye-sockets friends’ car, and the weirdo seedy mystery commences in search of further information. As he puts on his detective hat, Clay comes across corrupt cops who offer up an ass-kickin’ for freedom; a feminist cult whom believes in The Great Cleansing where there’ll only be women after the war, except Godfrey, their male leader, and are intent on pushing forth the cause; underground conspirators whom are desperately trying to find the meaning behind the Mr. Jones advertising figure, whose dopey, grinning cartoon face can also be found, mistaken, as say, a mole on Hitler and others of his ilk; a girl-woman who draws an endless amounts of ponies and is the brain-child behind all of the twisted snuff film plotlines; and a cast of characters along the way that include Laura the Dog without any orifices, Tina the Tuna-person, and an extremely hairy raging hitman just itchin’ to take some of his rage out on Clay. But will Clay find what he’s looking for, or will someone or something find him first, causing his pursuit to be all for not?
Immensely bizarre and totally entertaining, Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron is unlike most things read or seen. Mr. Clowes seems to have turned on some faucet to some deep, far back recess of his brain, and tossed aside any kind of filter because it was simply unnecessary for what he had in mind. The result he achieves is the worst kind of nightmare… where people, things, and places aren’t what they seem, are mutated in some disturbed form, and somewhat piece together but don’t. And as LAVGCII hits its climax, Clowes’ storyline branches all begin to converge in quick succession and the sensation is one of a tornado spiraling out of control, which further adds to the idea of a nightmare, when it’s all beginning to be too much to handle and you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and suddenly you shoot up, awake.
It’s so disturbingly creepy, it must be experienced.
The story cuts to our protagonist, Clay, who, when viewing a snuff film at a porno-theater, sees his estranged wife on screen. He learns from the bathroom-stall psychic wise man that an independent outfit known as Interesting Productions made it. Clay borrows his fish-tails-coming-out-of-his-eye-sockets friends’ car, and the weirdo seedy mystery commences in search of further information. As he puts on his detective hat, Clay comes across corrupt cops who offer up an ass-kickin’ for freedom; a feminist cult whom believes in The Great Cleansing where there’ll only be women after the war, except Godfrey, their male leader, and are intent on pushing forth the cause; underground conspirators whom are desperately trying to find the meaning behind the Mr. Jones advertising figure, whose dopey, grinning cartoon face can also be found, mistaken, as say, a mole on Hitler and others of his ilk; a girl-woman who draws an endless amounts of ponies and is the brain-child behind all of the twisted snuff film plotlines; and a cast of characters along the way that include Laura the Dog without any orifices, Tina the Tuna-person, and an extremely hairy raging hitman just itchin’ to take some of his rage out on Clay. But will Clay find what he’s looking for, or will someone or something find him first, causing his pursuit to be all for not?
Immensely bizarre and totally entertaining, Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron is unlike most things read or seen. Mr. Clowes seems to have turned on some faucet to some deep, far back recess of his brain, and tossed aside any kind of filter because it was simply unnecessary for what he had in mind. The result he achieves is the worst kind of nightmare… where people, things, and places aren’t what they seem, are mutated in some disturbed form, and somewhat piece together but don’t. And as LAVGCII hits its climax, Clowes’ storyline branches all begin to converge in quick succession and the sensation is one of a tornado spiraling out of control, which further adds to the idea of a nightmare, when it’s all beginning to be too much to handle and you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and suddenly you shoot up, awake.
It’s so disturbingly creepy, it must be experienced.
June 7, 2007
this made my head feel fizzy.
and it is one of my favorite titles ever, tied with 'if it werent for venetian blinds, itd be curtains for us all.'
and it is one of my favorite titles ever, tied with 'if it werent for venetian blinds, itd be curtains for us all.'
November 11, 2017
Βαθμολογία: 9/10
Πριν κάμποσα χρόνια διάβασα το Ghost World στην οθόνη του υπολογιστή μου, ένα ωραίο και ιδιαίτερο κόμικ, από το οποίο όμως δεν θυμάμαι και πάρα πολλά πράγματα. Σίγουρα κάποια στιγμή θα το διαβάσω στην έντυπη μορφή, όπως του αξίζει, για να το απολαύσω ακόμα καλύτερα. Τώρα, όσον αφορά το "Σιδερένιο ομοίωμα γαντιού από βελούδο", είναι ένα κόμικ που αγόρασα μέσα στους πρώτους μήνες κυκλοφορίας του στα ελληνικά, σχεδόν μόνο και μόνο χάρη στον τίτλο του. Λύκειο πήγαινα τότε, σιγά μην ήξερα τι εστί Daniel Clowes ή εναλλακτική σκηνή στον χώρο των κόμικς. Πριν κάτι ώρες άρχισα να συγυρίζω το ράφι με τα κόμικς και το πέτυχα μπροστά μου, έτσι αποφάσισα ότι ήρθε η ώρα του για να το διαβάσω επιτέλους (αφού, βέβαια, τελείωσα με το συγύρισμα).
Τι κάψιμο ήταν αυτό; Τι ουσίες και οινοπνεύματα κατανάλωσε ο Clowes για να σκαρφιστεί μια τέτοια ιστορία, να δημιουργήσει τέτοιους χαρακτήρες; Για να τσιμπήσουν το δόλωμα περισσότεροι αναγνώστες, στο οπισθόφυλλο θα μπορούσε να υπάρχει μια περίληψη του στιλ: "Ο Κλέι, ένας καημένος τυπάκος, αρχίζει την αναζήτηση για την γυναίκα του που τον παράτησε, από την στιγμή που θα την δει ως πρωταγωνίστρια σε μια τσόντα σε κάποιο σινεμά. Κατά την έρευνά του, θα μπλέξει σ'ένα κάρο περιπέτειες και παράξενες καταστάσεις, σ'ένα ταξίδι στην σκοτεινή πλευρά της Αμερικής". Ωραία! Κοινωνικό δράμα με στοιχεία μυστηρίου. Ναι, ούτε καν! Αλλά πάλι καλά, όμως: Έχουμε πήξει στα κόμικς με αρχή, μέση και τέλος, στα λογικά και τα συνηθισμένα. Εδώ ο σουρεαλισμός βαράει κόκκινο, η παράνοια και η τρέλα κάνουν έντονη την παρουσία τους από την αρχή μέχρι το τέλος, οι χαρακτήρες που γνωρίζουμε είναι ο ένας πιο φευγάτος από τον άλλο, αυτά που συμβαίνουν θυμίζουν ένα τριπάκι ή τον εφιάλτη ενός τρελαμένου μυαλού. Ο κακός χαμός γίνεται, σας λέω! Πάρτε ένα μίξερ, βάλτε μπόλικο Ντέιβιντ Λιντς, λίγο Κουέντιν Ταραντίνο και κάμποση Αμερικάνικη υποκουλτούρα, και το αποτέλεσμα θα είναι κάτι σαν και αυτό το κόμικ.
Τώρα, έχει σημασία αν μετά το τέλος της ανάγνωσης του κόμικ, μείνετε με απορίες για το τι ήταν αυτό που μόλις διαβάσατε; Μάλλον όχι, γιατί για να φτάσατε μέχρι το τέλος, τότε σημαίνει ότι κάτι σας άγγιξε. Δεν θα πω ότι κατάλαβα τα πάντα, όμως, διάολε, όλο αυτό το ψυχεδελικό ταξίδι μου τίναξε τα μυαλά στον αέρα. Δεν μπορούσα ν'αφήσω με τίποτα το κόμικ κάτω. Μονορούφι το διάβασα. Και, φυσικά, δεν είναι μόνο η ιστορία με την άρρωστη και περίεργη ατμόσφαιρα, είναι και το φοβερό και πολύ ιδιαίτερο σχέδιο - από τα πρόσωπα μέχρι τα διάφορα σκηνικά. Θα βλέπω εφιάλτες με ορισμένους από τους ανώμαλους τύπους που συμμετέχουν στην ιστορία. Στην συλλογή μου ανήκει ο σκληρόδετος τόμος του "Patience" -που είναι ένα πραγματικό στολίδι-, καθώς και το "David Boring". Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα διαβάσω όλα τα έργα του Daniel Clowes στο μέλλον.
Υ.Γ. Η έκδοση του Κορμοράνου εξαιρετική απ'όλες τις απόψεις.
Πριν κάμποσα χρόνια διάβασα το Ghost World στην οθόνη του υπολογιστή μου, ένα ωραίο και ιδιαίτερο κόμικ, από το οποίο όμως δεν θυμάμαι και πάρα πολλά πράγματα. Σίγουρα κάποια στιγμή θα το διαβάσω στην έντυπη μορφή, όπως του αξίζει, για να το απολαύσω ακόμα καλύτερα. Τώρα, όσον αφορά το "Σιδερένιο ομοίωμα γαντιού από βελούδο", είναι ένα κόμικ που αγόρασα μέσα στους πρώτους μήνες κυκλοφορίας του στα ελληνικά, σχεδόν μόνο και μόνο χάρη στον τίτλο του. Λύκειο πήγαινα τότε, σιγά μην ήξερα τι εστί Daniel Clowes ή εναλλακτική σκηνή στον χώρο των κόμικς. Πριν κάτι ώρες άρχισα να συγυρίζω το ράφι με τα κόμικς και το πέτυχα μπροστά μου, έτσι αποφάσισα ότι ήρθε η ώρα του για να το διαβάσω επιτέλους (αφού, βέβαια, τελείωσα με το συγύρισμα).
Τι κάψιμο ήταν αυτό; Τι ουσίες και οινοπνεύματα κατανάλωσε ο Clowes για να σκαρφιστεί μια τέτοια ιστορία, να δημιουργήσει τέτοιους χαρακτήρες; Για να τσιμπήσουν το δόλωμα περισσότεροι αναγνώστες, στο οπισθόφυλλο θα μπορούσε να υπάρχει μια περίληψη του στιλ: "Ο Κλέι, ένας καημένος τυπάκος, αρχίζει την αναζήτηση για την γυναίκα του που τον παράτησε, από την στιγμή που θα την δει ως πρωταγωνίστρια σε μια τσόντα σε κάποιο σινεμά. Κατά την έρευνά του, θα μπλέξει σ'ένα κάρο περιπέτειες και παράξενες καταστάσεις, σ'ένα ταξίδι στην σκοτεινή πλευρά της Αμερικής". Ωραία! Κοινωνικό δράμα με στοιχεία μυστηρίου. Ναι, ούτε καν! Αλλά πάλι καλά, όμως: Έχουμε πήξει στα κόμικς με αρχή, μέση και τέλος, στα λογικά και τα συνηθισμένα. Εδώ ο σουρεαλισμός βαράει κόκκινο, η παράνοια και η τρέλα κάνουν έντονη την παρουσία τους από την αρχή μέχρι το τέλος, οι χαρακτήρες που γνωρίζουμε είναι ο ένας πιο φευγάτος από τον άλλο, αυτά που συμβαίνουν θυμίζουν ένα τριπάκι ή τον εφιάλτη ενός τρελαμένου μυαλού. Ο κακός χαμός γίνεται, σας λέω! Πάρτε ένα μίξερ, βάλτε μπόλικο Ντέιβιντ Λιντς, λίγο Κουέντιν Ταραντίνο και κάμποση Αμερικάνικη υποκουλτούρα, και το αποτέλεσμα θα είναι κάτι σαν και αυτό το κόμικ.
Τώρα, έχει σημασία αν μετά το τέλος της ανάγνωσης του κόμικ, μείνετε με απορίες για το τι ήταν αυτό που μόλις διαβάσατε; Μάλλον όχι, γιατί για να φτάσατε μέχρι το τέλος, τότε σημαίνει ότι κάτι σας άγγιξε. Δεν θα πω ότι κατάλαβα τα πάντα, όμως, διάολε, όλο αυτό το ψυχεδελικό ταξίδι μου τίναξε τα μυαλά στον αέρα. Δεν μπορούσα ν'αφήσω με τίποτα το κόμικ κάτω. Μονορούφι το διάβασα. Και, φυσικά, δεν είναι μόνο η ιστορία με την άρρωστη και περίεργη ατμόσφαιρα, είναι και το φοβερό και πολύ ιδιαίτερο σχέδιο - από τα πρόσωπα μέχρι τα διάφορα σκηνικά. Θα βλέπω εφιάλτες με ορισμένους από τους ανώμαλους τύπους που συμμετέχουν στην ιστορία. Στην συλλογή μου ανήκει ο σκληρόδετος τόμος του "Patience" -που είναι ένα πραγματικό στολίδι-, καθώς και το "David Boring". Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα διαβάσω όλα τα έργα του Daniel Clowes στο μέλλον.
Υ.Γ. Η έκδοση του Κορμοράνου εξαιρετική απ'όλες τις απόψεις.
June 4, 2009
I would have loved this when I was in high school, but I read it for the first time today when I am as jaded as I can possibly get. Well, I guess I am just being nice by saying that. This just seems like Clowes trying to be weird for the sake of being weird. It's like he smoked a lot of pot and watched one Jodorowsky film after another and this was the best he could do- and I LOVE the films of Alejandro Jodorowsky. Where it seems the intention was to be disturbing, I was mildly irritated. Where most people would probably think "WTF?", I thought "give me a break". At best, certain parts made me feel car sick for a second.
June 11, 2020
A mescalina foi utilizado por vários autores como porta de entrada para um mundo de fantasia. Creio que Clowes terá usado toda a remessa existente para escrever o argumento (se é que ele existe!?) desta novela gráfica. Uma busca pela amor que não existe, entre seres inimagináveis, grotescos e horripilantes. Valha a arte que sempre se salva, numa obra que experimenta os limites da arte.
December 13, 2011
If Dan Clowes died after producing this warped masterpiece he would have gone down in history as some demented prophet. "Like A Velvet Glove" was produced mostly around 1990-1991 when companies like Something Weird Video were unearthing every disturbing B-movie ever created, and that's the vibe this book recalls.
A man watches a snuff film written by a pipe-smoking midget named "Precious". In pursuit to find out more about the movie he runs afoul of a Manson-type murder cult and a map hidden inside a dog leading to the whereabouts of a man named Mr. One Thousand, who will reveal all about Mr. Jones, a loveable cartoon mascot from the 1930's.
Most of the action is presented in such a disturbing manner that you feel like you got in on the hot line to somebody's worst nightmare. While some parts play weird for weirdnesses sake, I'm pretty sure something in here will strike a nerve that hasn't been struck just yet.
A man watches a snuff film written by a pipe-smoking midget named "Precious". In pursuit to find out more about the movie he runs afoul of a Manson-type murder cult and a map hidden inside a dog leading to the whereabouts of a man named Mr. One Thousand, who will reveal all about Mr. Jones, a loveable cartoon mascot from the 1930's.
Most of the action is presented in such a disturbing manner that you feel like you got in on the hot line to somebody's worst nightmare. While some parts play weird for weirdnesses sake, I'm pretty sure something in here will strike a nerve that hasn't been struck just yet.
December 11, 2018
Wow. This one is a hard one to categorize. Fantasy/Sci-Fi would be a place to start, maybe. Mind-melding-trip-and-a-half might be another. So outrageous you better not be drinking coffee with someone sitting directly sitting in front of you would be yet another, because I was seriously laughing OUT LOUD, though thankfully the other person was quietly sitting up in bed next to me late at night, no coffee anywhere in sight, though he was trying to quietly read about the not so quiet or gentle Choctaw Native American Indians at the time, and I kept interrupting him to quote the more outrageous bits and show him some of the funnier and more eye-popping characters. There's a truly weird guy who had plugs put in to cure his partial baldness and then ran out of money to complete the procedure so that he kind of looks like a hedgehog on top, only with the face of a not really attractive middle aged man. Poor guy. Clowes really went to town on him and probably made him look like someone he knows because he has a relatively big role in the book too. There's also a male dog called Laura who has no orifices, so is basically all hair which you have to feed with a syringe of water once a day. Oh yeah, and did I mention that... very bloated fishlike creature who is a waitress at the diner who brings him home to his oversexed middle-aged human mother who... But that's just a tiny tiny taste of the thing.
You eventually figure out there actually IS as story to the whole thing, AND a resolution, that it's not just one giant hallucinogenic trip, which at some point I thought, hey, why not, this is really funny anyway, because this being graphic novel No. 3 by Daniel Clowes for me, the same Daniel Clowes who became hugely famous for inventing Ghost World, which was turned into a cult movie, I've developed an affection for this artist and his type of dark twisted humour always featuring lots of sex, incidentally, and I also like his style of b&w drawing, which is very graphic and clean and stylised and somehow still very expressive. Haven't seen any of his recent work mind you, so far everything's been from the 90s.
Loosely, the story is about him going to one of those "Adult" cinemas (he's as grossed out by that experience as the reader is, fyi) and watching what to his and our horror turns out to be a... watch out for it... BDSM SNUFF movie (!!!!) and he furthermore recognizes the woman who gets shot as his EX WIFE and goes on a wild chase to find the producers of the film and comes across all these weird characters along the way, most of whom have nothing to do with his search (wouldn't you know it), some of which are onto a wild conspiracy about a cartoon character. Not for the faint of heart, maybe, but it's a cartoon fantasy and there's no real gore or anything, just pure crazy stuff. And I really really liked it. And laughed A LOT. Call me twisted that way. NOT FOR KIDS. Unless you're an adult kid, like me, sorta! 😜
4-and-a-half stars for sure! It's only not 5 because I keep those for things that make my soul kind of go Oooooooooohhhhhh, or something of the sort, and this was just tooooo weird, however entertaining, and you know... a snuff movie and all as a premise... I can't approve of that wholeheartedly can I, however artsy the context?! No I cannot. So docking a half star for that. 😬 ★★★★½
You eventually figure out there actually IS as story to the whole thing, AND a resolution, that it's not just one giant hallucinogenic trip, which at some point I thought, hey, why not, this is really funny anyway, because this being graphic novel No. 3 by Daniel Clowes for me, the same Daniel Clowes who became hugely famous for inventing Ghost World, which was turned into a cult movie, I've developed an affection for this artist and his type of dark twisted humour always featuring lots of sex, incidentally, and I also like his style of b&w drawing, which is very graphic and clean and stylised and somehow still very expressive. Haven't seen any of his recent work mind you, so far everything's been from the 90s.
Loosely, the story is about him going to one of those "Adult" cinemas (he's as grossed out by that experience as the reader is, fyi) and watching what to his and our horror turns out to be a... watch out for it... BDSM SNUFF movie (!!!!) and he furthermore recognizes the woman who gets shot as his EX WIFE and goes on a wild chase to find the producers of the film and comes across all these weird characters along the way, most of whom have nothing to do with his search (wouldn't you know it), some of which are onto a wild conspiracy about a cartoon character. Not for the faint of heart, maybe, but it's a cartoon fantasy and there's no real gore or anything, just pure crazy stuff. And I really really liked it. And laughed A LOT. Call me twisted that way. NOT FOR KIDS. Unless you're an adult kid, like me, sorta! 😜
4-and-a-half stars for sure! It's only not 5 because I keep those for things that make my soul kind of go Oooooooooohhhhhh, or something of the sort, and this was just tooooo weird, however entertaining, and you know... a snuff movie and all as a premise... I can't approve of that wholeheartedly can I, however artsy the context?! No I cannot. So docking a half star for that. 😬 ★★★★½
October 27, 2019
I have read several works by Clowes and I have enjoyed them all. But this might well be his masterpiece. It is surreal, creepy, violent, sexy, and funny all at the same time. It's the stuff of dreams. Deeply disturbing dreams . . .
The story begins with our existential hero's visit to a seedy porno film theater. He sees a very disturbing flick, and asks the ticket seller if she can provide more information about the production. He's guided to the men's room, where a Swami holds forth in a toilet stall to answer any questions about any subject the theater patrons wish to ask. (There's a constant line of devotees outside the restroom door.)
Following the Swami's lead, our hero travels toward the town where the film was made. On the way, he's pulled over by some sadistic police officers who beat the crap out of him and leave him on the roadside. He's picked up by some members of a Manson-like cult. He steals their van and the rest of the story is about his adventures looking into various mysteries that arise while he's on his quest.
There are so many unforgettable images among Clowes's stark black and white panels: a dog named Laura with "no orifices," who must be fed with a syringe; a deformed waitress who looks like a potato on stilts; a hairy-chested mercenary who is hired to dispatch our hero; not to mention several weird and barren "landscapes" which include greasy-spoon cafes, midnight swims in a polluted lake, a mole on Hitler's neck, and a forest of "hair transplant" stubble on top of a bald man's head.
This one rates high on my "disturbo-meter." Essential reading for fans of comics and graphic novels.
The story begins with our existential hero's visit to a seedy porno film theater. He sees a very disturbing flick, and asks the ticket seller if she can provide more information about the production. He's guided to the men's room, where a Swami holds forth in a toilet stall to answer any questions about any subject the theater patrons wish to ask. (There's a constant line of devotees outside the restroom door.)
Following the Swami's lead, our hero travels toward the town where the film was made. On the way, he's pulled over by some sadistic police officers who beat the crap out of him and leave him on the roadside. He's picked up by some members of a Manson-like cult. He steals their van and the rest of the story is about his adventures looking into various mysteries that arise while he's on his quest.
There are so many unforgettable images among Clowes's stark black and white panels: a dog named Laura with "no orifices," who must be fed with a syringe; a deformed waitress who looks like a potato on stilts; a hairy-chested mercenary who is hired to dispatch our hero; not to mention several weird and barren "landscapes" which include greasy-spoon cafes, midnight swims in a polluted lake, a mole on Hitler's neck, and a forest of "hair transplant" stubble on top of a bald man's head.
This one rates high on my "disturbo-meter." Essential reading for fans of comics and graphic novels.
April 30, 2017
Honestly, until I ran randomly across this one in the East Village Bookshop, I had no idea that I was missing out on Daniel Clowes. I've read various later works, all pretty decent, but nothing that's really stuck with me. I have a feeling that this paranoid noir nightmare will have much more psychic staying power. Surprisingly cohesive for all its being told as a series of wild tangents, and glimmering with naggingly familiar crystallizations of dread, isolation, and arbitrary cruelty.
October 19, 2019
Grande trip que este gajo tinha em cima para escrever e desenhar esta GN. Nada me fez sentido.
A GN tem um título e uma capa espetaculares e ri em alguma ou outra parte de tão parva que era a situação.
A GN tem um título e uma capa espetaculares e ri em alguma ou outra parte de tão parva que era a situação.
June 8, 2020
Impossibly bizarre and thoroughly distorted Velvet Glove is nothing short of a true mind job. Dispensing with any attempt at linearity or expected narrative, the vision here is simultaneously jarring, haunting and utterly uncompromising as 150 pages unfurl across a uniformly pencil driven landscape. Other than a paper thin array of reoccurring characters there is little in the way of typical connections to be intelligibly made or to be let-alone thematically uncovered.
Save a few instances of subtle esoteric symbolism, Velvet Glove reads more like a twisted acid overdosed college art project than anything.
Save a few instances of subtle esoteric symbolism, Velvet Glove reads more like a twisted acid overdosed college art project than anything.
July 5, 2016
Maybe I would have liked it better if I was high
October 4, 2020
"Tir tir titreyen şahin kafayı kırmış, vıcık vıcık denizanasını öksürerek tükürmüştü."
April 1, 2024
O autor andou a fumar umas coisas... e suspeito que não foram mortalhas com hortelã...
Sem dúvida que não foi e não é livro para mim.
September 15, 2009
Daniel Clowes remains my favorite comic book artist. I've actually got the series as they were originally published in the individual Eightball comic books, as well as the bound collection. Velvet Glove is also my favorite of his various serials. In my early twenties this serial even inspired a brief pipe smoking stint. That's right I smoked a pipe for a few months! (and I do mean tobacco)
I'm sure that Clowes took the title from a line in the Russ Meyer's film "Faster Pussycat Kill, Kill" which I still know by heart: "Real nice, Varla. Like a velvet glove cast in iron and like the gas chamber, you're a real fun gal." Actually in the same film, Tura Satana calls the old guy at the gas station (who takes his time cleaning the windshield because he's distracted by her cleavage) "eightball."
It's definitely worth reading all of the individual comics. This guy has written some of the freakiest (and hilarious) stories I have ever read and has a knack for capturing certain subcultures with brutal honesty and precision. In particular I'm thinking of "Art School Confidential." And of course the artwork is sublime.
I'm sure that Clowes took the title from a line in the Russ Meyer's film "Faster Pussycat Kill, Kill" which I still know by heart: "Real nice, Varla. Like a velvet glove cast in iron and like the gas chamber, you're a real fun gal." Actually in the same film, Tura Satana calls the old guy at the gas station (who takes his time cleaning the windshield because he's distracted by her cleavage) "eightball."
It's definitely worth reading all of the individual comics. This guy has written some of the freakiest (and hilarious) stories I have ever read and has a knack for capturing certain subcultures with brutal honesty and precision. In particular I'm thinking of "Art School Confidential." And of course the artwork is sublime.
Read
January 29, 2009Whenever I take this book down from the shelf and open it to a random page, I am reminded that the characters and situations in it are what's not supposed to exist in the world. It's very dark. The dog, Laura, struck me as a very intense idea. Clowes used dogs who were born without any orifices in other stories too, and it's a very good example of how a strange, impossible occurance can make a reader feel like their life is pointless and gorgeous and incredibly confusing.
October 31, 2007
Imagine Hardcore (that '79 porn-daughter flick with George C. Scott) crossed with Eraserhead, crossed with that dream you keep having where this deformed cephalopod with a major crush on you keeps leaving her sticky light-beaming eggs in your bed. But better than all of them combined.
December 26, 2020
Gerçekdışının sınırlarında gezen, 40 derece üstü ateşte denk gelinebilecek türden bir kabus. Hastalıklı bir zihne açılan bir pencere gibi. Bu denli garip bir düş bütününün, genel herhangi bir anlam barındırmaksızın aktarılış biçimindeki maharet takdir edilesi.
7/10
7/10
June 21, 2011
My first comment is: I read this book today, and was floored at some moments and kinda confused about what was going on at other moments, and I really feel like I'm going to need to read this again. I can see why this is a total classic, but I feel I will need a second reading to be able to digest all the scatter of events. They kinda explode at you.
I was delighted by the surprise surrealism, and by the way he handles it, by the way it comes out of the blue at you in the story, and by the bizarre way reality is interlaced with dream in this world here.
The world described in this work is grim, full of hellish nastiness and sickness... And yet somehow it's all quite tastefully portrayed, if that makes sense. Very few others could do this: very few others could depict a little girl writing scratch film plots and make it funny and not sickening.
Another thing-- It's maybe just me, but I feel like what really makes this a classic is that it kinda leaves you in an altered state-- I would even say I kinda felt transported into another life-perspective... And this might sound weird, but I was getting the feeling while reading it that I was getting a view of what it's like to be a man-- or at least it seemed that way. It's very intimate and psychological around the central character, and he is being attacked by strange things both human and not human the entire while, and he's ultimately got this completely gruesome, horrifying opponent after him... I'm sure I've seen countless movies and books written from the 'male perspective' but somehow, reading this, I found myself empathizing with him in a different way, and it seemed just kinda like I was getting this view of the 'male experience' or something... Or maybe that's just me he he :) I feel like the main character is very isolated, flung about by the world out of control, surrounded by shocking sexual and violent material designed to stimulate him (or manipulate him?), and that he feels vulnerable at some level, and he has this relationship with sex that consists partly of fear & dread. And the world he's in offers him plenty of sex, but it doesn't make him feel secure or fulfilled or confident, and he seems almost victimized by the porn he sees and the sex he is freely offered. Maybe he comes off as more feminine for that reason... Maybe that's why he was so easy for me to relate to, in some backwards upside-down spinning kind of way :)
Spoilers here:
And the woman in the work is very distant, though she seems to take a central role in his thoughts. They both come to horrible fates, and are fated to each other in that way... She and all the other women seem out of reach, though not because they are impossible to understand. All the people he really talks to are other men, and they largely also seem lost and privately vulnerable, confused. (He does have interactions with a few women, one of whom is notably a monster, deformed and with a mystical back-story--) I feel like the fact this work is so very focused on the subtle levels of lostness and loneliness, that it is capable of depicting graphic sex in a way that stays sympathetic to all involved, including those turned on by the sickest of the sick.
That's what I'm thinking sets this apart: Clowes is sympathetic to EVERYONE, even monsters and villains and horrible persons; everyone has a story, everyone is messed up, no one's a saint, and everyone deserves the chance to be seen in up-close detail.
That's the sense I'm left with anyway.
I was delighted by the surprise surrealism, and by the way he handles it, by the way it comes out of the blue at you in the story, and by the bizarre way reality is interlaced with dream in this world here.
The world described in this work is grim, full of hellish nastiness and sickness... And yet somehow it's all quite tastefully portrayed, if that makes sense. Very few others could do this: very few others could depict a little girl writing scratch film plots and make it funny and not sickening.
Another thing-- It's maybe just me, but I feel like what really makes this a classic is that it kinda leaves you in an altered state-- I would even say I kinda felt transported into another life-perspective... And this might sound weird, but I was getting the feeling while reading it that I was getting a view of what it's like to be a man-- or at least it seemed that way. It's very intimate and psychological around the central character, and he is being attacked by strange things both human and not human the entire while, and he's ultimately got this completely gruesome, horrifying opponent after him... I'm sure I've seen countless movies and books written from the 'male perspective' but somehow, reading this, I found myself empathizing with him in a different way, and it seemed just kinda like I was getting this view of the 'male experience' or something... Or maybe that's just me he he :) I feel like the main character is very isolated, flung about by the world out of control, surrounded by shocking sexual and violent material designed to stimulate him (or manipulate him?), and that he feels vulnerable at some level, and he has this relationship with sex that consists partly of fear & dread. And the world he's in offers him plenty of sex, but it doesn't make him feel secure or fulfilled or confident, and he seems almost victimized by the porn he sees and the sex he is freely offered. Maybe he comes off as more feminine for that reason... Maybe that's why he was so easy for me to relate to, in some backwards upside-down spinning kind of way :)
Spoilers here:
And the woman in the work is very distant, though she seems to take a central role in his thoughts. They both come to horrible fates, and are fated to each other in that way... She and all the other women seem out of reach, though not because they are impossible to understand. All the people he really talks to are other men, and they largely also seem lost and privately vulnerable, confused. (He does have interactions with a few women, one of whom is notably a monster, deformed and with a mystical back-story--) I feel like the fact this work is so very focused on the subtle levels of lostness and loneliness, that it is capable of depicting graphic sex in a way that stays sympathetic to all involved, including those turned on by the sickest of the sick.
That's what I'm thinking sets this apart: Clowes is sympathetic to EVERYONE, even monsters and villains and horrible persons; everyone has a story, everyone is messed up, no one's a saint, and everyone deserves the chance to be seen in up-close detail.
That's the sense I'm left with anyway.
August 6, 2015
A lot of people really dig this book. In fact, I may have been intimidated by the absolute love it inspires, because I put aside rating it for a while to decide to try and figure out how I truly felt about it.
And truly, I disliked it quite a lot. Achingly. With some oomph. I wouldn't go so far as to say the H word, because that would intimate a level of passion that this book did not not conjure. If anything, I would say it conjured dispassion. The story was like a rambling, nonsensical nightmare, which did not, incidentally, remind me of David Lynch. David Lynch's provoking body of work is a lot of things, but never boring.
I should admit that any time a book or movie involves a snuff film as a major plot driver, I've got an internal struggle on my hands. It's one of those things I can't get past, though I have gotten past, and loved worse transgressions. Past favorites like Sandman, Transmetropolitan, hell, even Saga, my current favorite, gets into some very ick-factor territory.
Point is, if it illuminates or gives insight, or is integral to a great story, I'll get past it. But here the boring protagonist, bizarre story and disconnected imagery seem immature and meaningless. Maybe that is the point of the thing, but I don't like that brand of immaturity and meaninglessness.
Maybe it's just not my brand of ick.
And truly, I disliked it quite a lot. Achingly. With some oomph. I wouldn't go so far as to say the H word, because that would intimate a level of passion that this book did not not conjure. If anything, I would say it conjured dispassion. The story was like a rambling, nonsensical nightmare, which did not, incidentally, remind me of David Lynch. David Lynch's provoking body of work is a lot of things, but never boring.
I should admit that any time a book or movie involves a snuff film as a major plot driver, I've got an internal struggle on my hands. It's one of those things I can't get past, though I have gotten past, and loved worse transgressions. Past favorites like Sandman, Transmetropolitan, hell, even Saga, my current favorite, gets into some very ick-factor territory.
Point is, if it illuminates or gives insight, or is integral to a great story, I'll get past it. But here the boring protagonist, bizarre story and disconnected imagery seem immature and meaningless. Maybe that is the point of the thing, but I don't like that brand of immaturity and meaninglessness.
Maybe it's just not my brand of ick.
October 13, 2021
Never heard of this, just thought the cover looked cool. I read it during lunch and felt very disoriented when I emerged from the break room bc I was so absorbed and this is itself a nightmarish & disorienting book. I loved the Tina product-of-shape-of-water situation, loved Laura the Orificeless dog, loved the manson cult subplot, loved the general disgustingness. I really like a book where the main character keeps getting treated like Job as in they aren't really that active of a participant and yet just keep getting walloped by weird situations. Like Sorry to Bother You or Invisible Man where the main character is a passive guy and shit just keeps happening to them. Would say the book was Lynchian but tbh I have never in my life seen a single david lynch product so that's my impression based on the trickle down knowledge. One issue I have in media consumption is a fascination w/ creepy grotesque body horror but also being squeamish so graphic novels like this are perfect. Toward the end I began to lose track of the threads but I also read the last section at home rather than in a more focussed environment.
September 16, 2015
An absurd (in every sense of the word) yarn, in the manner of David Lynch, beginning from a naive man's curiosity to find the origins of a snuff film, leading to bizarre characters and stupid, verbose theories about universe and everything, not to forget a mysterious entity referred only a "Mr. Johns" and the people who spend their entire lives finding it.
Buddha said that the "path is more important than the destination" or something like that. I wonder whether surrealism leans more towards that saying than any other form of storytelling. If your stories mean nothing in the end, are as unclear as a black screen, if the characters are there just because horrible, irrational things can happen to them, your only saving grace is the moment to moment intrigue. If one scene helps you slide into another with interest, keeps the journey going sort of, no matter how empty the collective experience is, you still end up reading a story, don't you?
Buddha said that the "path is more important than the destination" or something like that. I wonder whether surrealism leans more towards that saying than any other form of storytelling. If your stories mean nothing in the end, are as unclear as a black screen, if the characters are there just because horrible, irrational things can happen to them, your only saving grace is the moment to moment intrigue. If one scene helps you slide into another with interest, keeps the journey going sort of, no matter how empty the collective experience is, you still end up reading a story, don't you?
May 27, 2022
I get it. It's nonsense. 'Twas like a fever-dream nightmare. It worked exactly like the subconscious process, sort of touching but not really. I just don't care. I didn't care about anything. Sure, it's meaningless, and that has an availability to the reader as something beautiful and unique, but it was too random to have motivation and compassion for any of its own value beyond the weird and surreal. This is why they make a joke out of college student films in movies. It wasn't for me. I just thought it was stupid.
February 23, 2012
utterly incomprehensible excellence. I can see why it is so influential. I would call this nearly "pure" storytelling, in that you can absolutely follow what is going on and it makes absolutely no sense at all but it gives you the *feeling* that it would make sense if you were wearing the right glasses. It's probably a trick, but it's a good one.
January 7, 2025
A random rollercoaster ride through Lynchian nightmares. Actually I feel like this fits what I mean by "Lynchian" better than any actual David Lynch film. Weird, surreal, and never not at least a little bit funny.
I really didn't like it when I first read it in over 10 years ago. I wasn't able to get past how random it felt. To me it was like Ed The Happy Clown but not funny, more serious.
I really didn't like it when I first read it in over 10 years ago. I wasn't able to get past how random it felt. To me it was like Ed The Happy Clown but not funny, more serious.
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