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Seven Miles a Second
This is the gripping autobiography of David Wojnarowicz, a controversial, world renowned artist and writer who died of AIDS-related causes in 1992. This unflinching story chronicles Wojnarowicz's childhood of prostitution in New York City, his homelessness and drug addiction, and the devastating illness that made him a pariah.
64 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 1996
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About the author
David Wojnarowicz
28 books329 followersDavid Wojnarowicz was a gay painter, photographer, writer, filmmaker, performance artist, and activist who was prominent in the New York City art world of the 1980s.
He was born in Red Bank, New Jersey, and later lived with his mother in New York City, where he attended the High School of Performing Arts for a brief period. From 1970 until 1973, after dropping out of school, he for a time lived on the streets of New York City and worked as a farmer on the Canadian border.
Upon returning to New York City, he saw a particularly prolific period for his artwork from the late 1970s through the 1980s. During this period, he made super-8 films, such as Heroin, began a photographic series of Arthur Rimbaud, did stencil work, played in a band called 3 Teens Kill 4, and exhibited his work in well-known East Village galleries.
In 1985, he was included in the Whitney Biennial, the so-called Graffiti Show. In the 1990s, he fought and successfully issued an injunction against Donald Wildmon and the American Family Association on the grounds that Wojnarowicz's work had been copied and distorted in violation of the New York Artists' Authorship Rights Act.
Wojnarowicz died of AIDS on July 22, 1992. His personal papers are part of the Downtown Collection held by the Fales Library at New York University.
He was born in Red Bank, New Jersey, and later lived with his mother in New York City, where he attended the High School of Performing Arts for a brief period. From 1970 until 1973, after dropping out of school, he for a time lived on the streets of New York City and worked as a farmer on the Canadian border.
Upon returning to New York City, he saw a particularly prolific period for his artwork from the late 1970s through the 1980s. During this period, he made super-8 films, such as Heroin, began a photographic series of Arthur Rimbaud, did stencil work, played in a band called 3 Teens Kill 4, and exhibited his work in well-known East Village galleries.
In 1985, he was included in the Whitney Biennial, the so-called Graffiti Show. In the 1990s, he fought and successfully issued an injunction against Donald Wildmon and the American Family Association on the grounds that Wojnarowicz's work had been copied and distorted in violation of the New York Artists' Authorship Rights Act.
Wojnarowicz died of AIDS on July 22, 1992. His personal papers are part of the Downtown Collection held by the Fales Library at New York University.
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July 14, 2025
MY MIND CANNOT CONTAIN ALL THAT I SEE. I KEEP EXPERIENCING THIS SENSATION THAT MY SKIN IS TOO TIGHT; CIVILIZATION IS EXPANDING INSIDE OF ME. DO YOU HAVE A ROOM WITH A BETTER VIEW? I AM EXPERIENCING THE X-RAY OF CIVILIZATION. THE MINIMUM SPEED REQUIRED TO BREAK THROUGH THE EARTH’S GRAVITATIONAL PULL IS SEVEN MILES A SECOND. SINCE ECONOMIC CONDITIONS PREVENT US FROM GAINING ACCESS TO ROCKETS OR SPACESHIPS. WE WOULD HAVE TO LEARN TO RUN AWFULLY FAST TO ACHIEVE ESCAPE FROM WHERE WE ARE HEADING …
7 MILES A SECOND ~~ DAVID WOJNAROWICZ
Why has it has taken us so long to pay tribute to David Wojnarowicz and the other forgotten saints, like him, whom we lost to AIDS, and the horrific pain, fear and ridicule they endured that made death easy by comparison ...
David Wojnarowicz, a key figure of the 1980s art movement that flowered in the pavement cracks of New York’s pre-gentrified East Village, died of AIDS in 1992 at age 37.
Wojnarowicz was a writer as much as a visual artist. Not only had he written multiple publications; language and literary influences recur in his paintings, photography and films. Texts recited by him demonstrate a captivating ability to artistically express his passion, engagement as well as his rage with words and his voice.
As with his previous autobiographical writings, Wojnarowicz's work is not easy to define: part memoir, part social commentary on America during the AIDS crisis, part hallucinatory fiction and also a radical vision of what being queer might mean. On top of this, the prose is stunning in both senses—glamorous and a hard electric shock.
IF I COULD ATTACH OUR BLOOD VESSELS SO WE COULD BECOME EACH OTHER I WOULD. IF I COULD ATTACH OUR BLOOD VESSELS IN ORDER TO ANCHOR YOU TO THE EARTH TO THIS PRESENT TIME I WOULD. IF I COULD OPEN UP YOUR BODY AND SLIP UP INSIDE YOUR SKIN, AND LOOK OUT YOUR EYES AND FOREVER HAVE MY LIPS FUSED WITH YOURS I WOULD.
I CAN’T ABSTRACT MY OWN DYING ANY LONGER. I AM A STRANGER TO OTHERS AND TO MYSELF AND I REFUSE TO PRETEND THAT I AM FAMILIAR OR THAT I HAVE HISTORY ATTACHED TO MY HEELS. I AM GLASS CLEAR EMPTY GLASS. I SEE THE WORLD SPINNING BEHIND ME AND THROUGH ME. I AM A STRANGER.
This is raw stuff, beginning with scenes of a 12 year old Wojnarowicz selling sex to older men, through years of teenage desolation ~~ living on the street, malnourished and abused ~~ to life as an adult living with HIV ~~ finally segueing into a wail of rage and anguish. The narrative text is poetic, becoming a monologue ~~ fractured and at times impervious. The narrators voice contrasts the short scenes from Wojnarowicz’s story ~~ picked up and used by older men; sleeping in doorways or crashing with junkie friends; trying to mug a stranger for change.
Wojnarowicz notes being nine during his first sexual encounter with another man, and although it’s late in coming, curious readers finally learn in passing what would prompt anyone to start picking up much older men in Times Square. As with so much of 7 MILES A SECOND , it prompts outrage and hatred toward abusers and hypocrites.
As Wojnarowicz becomes an adult, his friends begin dying of AIDS. Visiting them in hospital, he witnesses the degeneration of their bodies and finally has to come to terms with his own impending death. Seething at the hypocrisy and intolerance of politicians, preachers and doctors, he dreams of destroying the city.
The final third of the memoir takes place in the early 1990s, when the impact of AIDS is taking its toll on Wojnarowicz, the gay community, and the nation. By this time, Wojnarowicz is engulfed by impotent fury at both his own condition and the homophobic attitudes of society toward the causes of AIDS.
7 MILES A SECOND was not written to make the reader feel good. Wojnarowicz’s memoir is for those times when we all go into that dark night of the soul ~~ those times when our own raging voice is the only companion to our loneliness ~~ for those times when fairness and life evades us ~~ when only an artist like Wojnarowicz’s can speak to our soul.
7 MILES A SECOND ~~ DAVID WOJNAROWICZ
Why has it has taken us so long to pay tribute to David Wojnarowicz and the other forgotten saints, like him, whom we lost to AIDS, and the horrific pain, fear and ridicule they endured that made death easy by comparison ...
David Wojnarowicz, a key figure of the 1980s art movement that flowered in the pavement cracks of New York’s pre-gentrified East Village, died of AIDS in 1992 at age 37.
Wojnarowicz was a writer as much as a visual artist. Not only had he written multiple publications; language and literary influences recur in his paintings, photography and films. Texts recited by him demonstrate a captivating ability to artistically express his passion, engagement as well as his rage with words and his voice.
As with his previous autobiographical writings, Wojnarowicz's work is not easy to define: part memoir, part social commentary on America during the AIDS crisis, part hallucinatory fiction and also a radical vision of what being queer might mean. On top of this, the prose is stunning in both senses—glamorous and a hard electric shock.
IF I COULD ATTACH OUR BLOOD VESSELS SO WE COULD BECOME EACH OTHER I WOULD. IF I COULD ATTACH OUR BLOOD VESSELS IN ORDER TO ANCHOR YOU TO THE EARTH TO THIS PRESENT TIME I WOULD. IF I COULD OPEN UP YOUR BODY AND SLIP UP INSIDE YOUR SKIN, AND LOOK OUT YOUR EYES AND FOREVER HAVE MY LIPS FUSED WITH YOURS I WOULD.
I CAN’T ABSTRACT MY OWN DYING ANY LONGER. I AM A STRANGER TO OTHERS AND TO MYSELF AND I REFUSE TO PRETEND THAT I AM FAMILIAR OR THAT I HAVE HISTORY ATTACHED TO MY HEELS. I AM GLASS CLEAR EMPTY GLASS. I SEE THE WORLD SPINNING BEHIND ME AND THROUGH ME. I AM A STRANGER.
This is raw stuff, beginning with scenes of a 12 year old Wojnarowicz selling sex to older men, through years of teenage desolation ~~ living on the street, malnourished and abused ~~ to life as an adult living with HIV ~~ finally segueing into a wail of rage and anguish. The narrative text is poetic, becoming a monologue ~~ fractured and at times impervious. The narrators voice contrasts the short scenes from Wojnarowicz’s story ~~ picked up and used by older men; sleeping in doorways or crashing with junkie friends; trying to mug a stranger for change.
Wojnarowicz notes being nine during his first sexual encounter with another man, and although it’s late in coming, curious readers finally learn in passing what would prompt anyone to start picking up much older men in Times Square. As with so much of 7 MILES A SECOND , it prompts outrage and hatred toward abusers and hypocrites.
As Wojnarowicz becomes an adult, his friends begin dying of AIDS. Visiting them in hospital, he witnesses the degeneration of their bodies and finally has to come to terms with his own impending death. Seething at the hypocrisy and intolerance of politicians, preachers and doctors, he dreams of destroying the city.
The final third of the memoir takes place in the early 1990s, when the impact of AIDS is taking its toll on Wojnarowicz, the gay community, and the nation. By this time, Wojnarowicz is engulfed by impotent fury at both his own condition and the homophobic attitudes of society toward the causes of AIDS.
7 MILES A SECOND was not written to make the reader feel good. Wojnarowicz’s memoir is for those times when we all go into that dark night of the soul ~~ those times when our own raging voice is the only companion to our loneliness ~~ for those times when fairness and life evades us ~~ when only an artist like Wojnarowicz’s can speak to our soul.
June 3, 2015
"Escape velocity is the speed that an object needs to be traveling to break free of a planet or moon's gravity well and leave it without further propulsion. For example, a spacecraft leaving the surface of Earth needs to be going 7 miles per second, or nearly 25,000 miles per hour to leave without falling back to the surface or falling into orbit." www.qrk.northwestern. edu
This text, which I am told is a cult classic, was released in 1996, four years after Wojnarowicz's AIDS-related death, and in 2012 was repackaged and released in large book format, drawn by his friends James Romberger and colored by Marguerite Van Cook. It is remarkable there are not more comics like this. There are interesting and sometimes amazing formal experiments that celebrate the imagination and comics possibilities. There few both personal and political comics that are like this, though, infused with a kind of rage, a howl of despair and anger. There are three parts of this short memoir, the first dealing with the author's hustling and prostitution from the age of 9 on the streets of NYC; the second, the next stage, deals also with his life on the streets, with drugs and near starvation and sleepless hallucination, and the third section deals with his delirium in AIDS-related hospitalizations and the death of and grief over the loss of many friends and his anger at health care agencies and the government for their perceived apathy. It's a kind of rough street prose poem, with wild drawings to match the sometimes surreal, nightmarish experiences.
Of course Woodring and others create as well out of their pain and madness, so maybe I am wrong to say this is an isolated phenomenon, this raw treatise, this epitaph. It does have something of Frank Miller and Edward Rizzo horror to it, as Romberger and Van Cook try to help us visualize the pain. There's a lot of people on the streets, and more, not fewer, every day, as health care continues to decline and the economy's "recovery" doesn't touch most of whom it has damaged, as corporate and CEO profits skyrocket. This is tough to read on so many levels. Not escapist comics. Testimony.
This text, which I am told is a cult classic, was released in 1996, four years after Wojnarowicz's AIDS-related death, and in 2012 was repackaged and released in large book format, drawn by his friends James Romberger and colored by Marguerite Van Cook. It is remarkable there are not more comics like this. There are interesting and sometimes amazing formal experiments that celebrate the imagination and comics possibilities. There few both personal and political comics that are like this, though, infused with a kind of rage, a howl of despair and anger. There are three parts of this short memoir, the first dealing with the author's hustling and prostitution from the age of 9 on the streets of NYC; the second, the next stage, deals also with his life on the streets, with drugs and near starvation and sleepless hallucination, and the third section deals with his delirium in AIDS-related hospitalizations and the death of and grief over the loss of many friends and his anger at health care agencies and the government for their perceived apathy. It's a kind of rough street prose poem, with wild drawings to match the sometimes surreal, nightmarish experiences.
Of course Woodring and others create as well out of their pain and madness, so maybe I am wrong to say this is an isolated phenomenon, this raw treatise, this epitaph. It does have something of Frank Miller and Edward Rizzo horror to it, as Romberger and Van Cook try to help us visualize the pain. There's a lot of people on the streets, and more, not fewer, every day, as health care continues to decline and the economy's "recovery" doesn't touch most of whom it has damaged, as corporate and CEO profits skyrocket. This is tough to read on so many levels. Not escapist comics. Testimony.
July 27, 2015
One of the blurbs described this book as a "primal scream." Seems about right. It doesn't feel to me like it qualifies as a graphic "novel" only because it is so brief and loosely structured. The narrative seems to hang on 3 scenes or moments from Wojnarowicz's life - one of hustling as a youth, another living hand-to-mouth on the street, and then as a young adult living in an AIDS-induced fever dream. The art is extremely visceral and unnerving. Sections of it reminded me of Frank Miller's grittier stuff, or of the anime movie Akira, the way the art blends bodies with images of decay, pestilence, and machinery. Movement through the panels is unsettling, too, in the way they appear fragmented and jagged. I found the middle section to be the most compelling. The poetics in the language at the end didn't have enough specifics for me to get a hold of. By that point, Wojnarowicz is basically at war with his own body and mind, and the words feel like they are tumbling out with little in the way of framing devices or filters. Anyway, as short a piece as this is, it is incredibly powerful.
June 18, 2020
Mijn enige bezwaar is de hoeveelheid. Ik wil meer!
*4,5
*4,5
April 3, 2022
"AND I'M CARRYING THIS RAGE LIKE A BLOOD-FILLED EGG AND THERE'S A THIN LINE BETWEEN THE INSIDE AND THE OUTSIDE A THIN LINE BETWEEN THOUGHT AND ACTION AND THAT LINE IS SIMPLY MADE UP OF BLOOD AND MUSCLE AND BONE AND AS EACH T-CELL DISAPPEARS FROM MY BODY IT'S REPLACED BY TEN POUNDS OF PRESSURE TEN POUNDS OF RAGE AND I FOCUS THAT RAGE INTO NONVIOLENT RESISTANCE BUT THAT FOCUS IS STARTING TO SLIP MY HANDS ARE BEGINNING TO MOVE INDEPENDENTLY AND THE EGG IS STARTING TO CRACK AND AMERICA SEEMS TO ACCEPT MURDER AS SELF-DEFENSE AGAINST THOSE WHO WOULD MURDER YOU AND IT'S BEEN MURDER ON A DAILY BASIS FOR TEN COUNT THEM TEN LONG YEARS AND WE'RE EXPECTED TO PAY TAXES TO SUPPORT THIS PUBLIC AND SOCIAL MURDER AND WE'RE EXPECTED TO QUIETLY AND POLITELY MAKE HOUSE IN THIS WIND-STORM OF MURDER BUT I SAY THERE'S CERTAIN POLITICIANS THAT BETTER GET MORE COMPLEX SECURITY ALARMS AND THERE'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS AND HEALTH CARE OFFICIALS THAT HAD BETTER GET BIGGER FUCKING DOGS AND HIGHER FUCKING FENCES AND QUEER BASHERS BETTER START DOING THEIR WORK FROM INSIDE HOWITZER TANKS BECAUSE THE THIN LINE BETWEEN THE INSIDE AND THE OUTSIDE IS BEGINNING TO ERODE AND AT THE MOMENT I'M A THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY FOOT TALL ELEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND POUND MAN INSIDE THIS SIX FOOT FRAME AND ALL I CAN FEEL IS THE PRESSURE ALL I CAN FEEL IS THE PRESSURE AND THE NEED FOR RELEASE"
February 28, 2022
An illustration of texts by David Wojnarowicz. At times narrative, other times associative or hallucinogenic.
I read this before I really started exploring more of the Wojnarowicz's life and work. I especially savoured the comprehensive volume produced by the Whitney Museum, David Wojnarowicz: History Keeps Me Awake at Night.
I should probably have another look at "7 Miles a Second" because now I would get more out of it.
I read this before I really started exploring more of the Wojnarowicz's life and work. I especially savoured the comprehensive volume produced by the Whitney Museum, David Wojnarowicz: History Keeps Me Awake at Night.
I should probably have another look at "7 Miles a Second" because now I would get more out of it.
June 28, 2016
Ferocious.
May 3, 2022
really powerful, i love how the artists sometimes let wojnarowicz’ words speak for themselves. the watercolour is really effective and the horror elements are fitting, especially with the fantastical aspects of wojnarowicz’ essay considered.
“as each t-cell disappears from my body it’s replaced by ten pounds of pressure ten pounds of rage and i focus that rage into nonviolent resistance but that focus is starting to slip…”
“as each t-cell disappears from my body it’s replaced by ten pounds of pressure ten pounds of rage and i focus that rage into nonviolent resistance but that focus is starting to slip…”
April 11, 2017
unspeakably beautiful, gut-wrenchingly painful. extraordinarily powerful account of the human cost of aids and the horrors endured by our queer forebearers. also somehow deals with trans issues in four panels better than almost any contemporary work of queer fiction.
the art is gorgeous, wojnarowicz's text is heart-stopping, (as expected) and the entire thing is a masterwork of comics. read the whole thing in public and had a hard time not crying.
read this.
the art is gorgeous, wojnarowicz's text is heart-stopping, (as expected) and the entire thing is a masterwork of comics. read the whole thing in public and had a hard time not crying.
read this.
September 24, 2017
A raw, blistering piece of art. Should be part of everyone's library.
July 16, 2017
Hard to follow.
December 21, 2022
Not rated per say, but this book was originally published by a mature imprint and starts out focused on Wojnarowicz mid child hood where he has already clearly had to deal with a lot more then many do in their entire lifetime. Content notes for under age sex work, violence against sex workers, nudity, sex, and violence against animals. A high percentage of the book is fairly psychedelic. The whole book gives off a fairly grotesque vibe. So yeah, not a must read.
Not previously familiar with the art of David Wojnarowicz, I am now in the process of dipping my toe into his work further. The introduction to his wikipedia page is "David Michael Wojnarowicz [born] September 14, 1954 [died] July 22, 1992 was an American painter, photographer, writer, filmmaker, performance artist, songwriter/recording artist, and AIDS activist prominent in the East Village art scene. He incorporated personal narratives influenced by his struggle with AIDS as well as his political activism in his art until his death from the disease in 1992."
Clicking over to his website, Romberger describes himself as "an American artist and cartoonist known for his depictions of New York’s Lower East Side.
Romberger’s pastel drawings of the ravaged landscape of the Lower East Side and its citizens are in many public and private collections…Romberger has long contributed work to the political comics collective title World War 3 Illustrated. Ground Zero, his science fiction strip collaboration with Marguerite Van Cook was serialized through the 1980s and 1990s in various downtown literary magazines. His efforts for commercial comics publishers include his earliest work for Marvel Comics’ Epic Illustrated. DC Comics published Romberger’s work on Paradox Press’ Big Book series… the 3-issue Renegade storyline in Jamie Delano’s 12 part miniseries 2020 Visions; the 2009 graphic novel The Bronx Kill with writer Peter Milligan; and the 2011 graphic novel Aaron and Ahmed with writer and Guggenheim fellow Jay Cantor. He has worked for Image Comics’ NYC Mech and for NBM/Papercutz’s revamp of Tales From the Crypt… Fantagraphics released Romberger and Van Cook’s The Late Child and Other Animals, a multigenerational auto/biography of Van Cook and her mother; it was simultaneously released in French… In 2012, Post York, a multimedia collaboration with his son Crosby was published by Uncivilized Books and nominated for an Eisner Award for best single issue; he is currently working on the second issue."
Scrolling through her wikipedia page, apparently Van Cook and Romberger are partners, which is cool, and she is described as "an English artist, writer, musician/singer and filmmaker. She was born in Portsmouth, England and now resides in New York City on the Lower East Side, in the East Village… Van Cook was the lead singer for The Innocents, a UK punk band, who toured as opening act for The Clash and The Slits on the "Sort it Out Tour." After this group disbanded, she joined "Steppin' Razor," an all female reggae band, as the bass player. They opened for Yellowman at Harlem World. She continues to perform at downtown New York venues…Van Cook produced and directed the film Funky Shui in New York. Additionally, she appeared in David ==Wojnarowicz (VOY-nə-ROH-vitch) ==and Tommy Turner's film Where Evil Dwells, as well as taking the role of Red Snapper in Nick Zedd and Rev.Jen’s series Electra Elf. "
What kind of keywords came to mind reading this graphic memoir? colour, scars, grit and grime, death, cityscape, and poverty.
Looking at the writing. After the first section, thing begin to swirl about in a dream like way and ends up fairly abstract. I feel like the length of the book really works well with this not literal and slice of life quality. Scrolling through the goodreads reviews there was some suggestion it should have been longer, or included more biographical detail etc. But I think that would have pushed it off this balance one way or another.
I also felt like the art was well executed. The colours are masterful; the page layouts are fairly grounded and lines are strong. Another good balance to the more abstract aspects of the story. My only critique is the paragraphs of text that appear near the end that are still laid out in all capitals, because that's what you do with type in comics. Not taking into consideration that that only works for small stretches. Paragraphs of texts should never be in all caps. But live and learn I suppose.
Moving along to the intersections I always try and look at, obviously memoir is one of those genres that is generally but understandably one note. Wojnarowicz embodies an abandoned gay child, a sickenly common experience; fighting his way into adulthood through poverty, disease and abuse with a powerful voice.
There's a bit of visually represented racial diversity, but it's the furthest thing from a focus.
As far as related works, I don't generally end up having much to say on this front but this book really reminded me of so many things. For one, I suspect I can see the influence of this book on The Pervert. A semi-autobiographical comic I reviewed just over a year ago that also dealt with sex work. I was also already thinking of recommending War in the Neighbourhood by Seth Tobocman as a tangentially related comic (about a squatters movement in the New York City Lower East Side) that I read years ago (review re-posted in 2020) and then it turned out that both Romberger and Tobocman contributed to the anthology magazine World War 3. See my review of their 48th issue, Fight Fascism, back in 2020 as well.
The final connection is that I hadn't noticed that Romberger also illustrated Aaron and Ahmed with writer Jay Cantor. A book I reviewed in I think my first year on this channel. I keep meaning to revisit it, as obviously that video is no longer public; so perhaps this will be my final catalyst.
To conclude, as I already warned, not a book for everyone, but as I've also already insinuated am exquisite work. Five stars.
Not previously familiar with the art of David Wojnarowicz, I am now in the process of dipping my toe into his work further. The introduction to his wikipedia page is "David Michael Wojnarowicz [born] September 14, 1954 [died] July 22, 1992 was an American painter, photographer, writer, filmmaker, performance artist, songwriter/recording artist, and AIDS activist prominent in the East Village art scene. He incorporated personal narratives influenced by his struggle with AIDS as well as his political activism in his art until his death from the disease in 1992."
Clicking over to his website, Romberger describes himself as "an American artist and cartoonist known for his depictions of New York’s Lower East Side.
Romberger’s pastel drawings of the ravaged landscape of the Lower East Side and its citizens are in many public and private collections…Romberger has long contributed work to the political comics collective title World War 3 Illustrated. Ground Zero, his science fiction strip collaboration with Marguerite Van Cook was serialized through the 1980s and 1990s in various downtown literary magazines. His efforts for commercial comics publishers include his earliest work for Marvel Comics’ Epic Illustrated. DC Comics published Romberger’s work on Paradox Press’ Big Book series… the 3-issue Renegade storyline in Jamie Delano’s 12 part miniseries 2020 Visions; the 2009 graphic novel The Bronx Kill with writer Peter Milligan; and the 2011 graphic novel Aaron and Ahmed with writer and Guggenheim fellow Jay Cantor. He has worked for Image Comics’ NYC Mech and for NBM/Papercutz’s revamp of Tales From the Crypt… Fantagraphics released Romberger and Van Cook’s The Late Child and Other Animals, a multigenerational auto/biography of Van Cook and her mother; it was simultaneously released in French… In 2012, Post York, a multimedia collaboration with his son Crosby was published by Uncivilized Books and nominated for an Eisner Award for best single issue; he is currently working on the second issue."
Scrolling through her wikipedia page, apparently Van Cook and Romberger are partners, which is cool, and she is described as "an English artist, writer, musician/singer and filmmaker. She was born in Portsmouth, England and now resides in New York City on the Lower East Side, in the East Village… Van Cook was the lead singer for The Innocents, a UK punk band, who toured as opening act for The Clash and The Slits on the "Sort it Out Tour." After this group disbanded, she joined "Steppin' Razor," an all female reggae band, as the bass player. They opened for Yellowman at Harlem World. She continues to perform at downtown New York venues…Van Cook produced and directed the film Funky Shui in New York. Additionally, she appeared in David ==Wojnarowicz (VOY-nə-ROH-vitch) ==and Tommy Turner's film Where Evil Dwells, as well as taking the role of Red Snapper in Nick Zedd and Rev.Jen’s series Electra Elf. "
What kind of keywords came to mind reading this graphic memoir? colour, scars, grit and grime, death, cityscape, and poverty.
Looking at the writing. After the first section, thing begin to swirl about in a dream like way and ends up fairly abstract. I feel like the length of the book really works well with this not literal and slice of life quality. Scrolling through the goodreads reviews there was some suggestion it should have been longer, or included more biographical detail etc. But I think that would have pushed it off this balance one way or another.
I also felt like the art was well executed. The colours are masterful; the page layouts are fairly grounded and lines are strong. Another good balance to the more abstract aspects of the story. My only critique is the paragraphs of text that appear near the end that are still laid out in all capitals, because that's what you do with type in comics. Not taking into consideration that that only works for small stretches. Paragraphs of texts should never be in all caps. But live and learn I suppose.
Moving along to the intersections I always try and look at, obviously memoir is one of those genres that is generally but understandably one note. Wojnarowicz embodies an abandoned gay child, a sickenly common experience; fighting his way into adulthood through poverty, disease and abuse with a powerful voice.
There's a bit of visually represented racial diversity, but it's the furthest thing from a focus.
As far as related works, I don't generally end up having much to say on this front but this book really reminded me of so many things. For one, I suspect I can see the influence of this book on The Pervert. A semi-autobiographical comic I reviewed just over a year ago that also dealt with sex work. I was also already thinking of recommending War in the Neighbourhood by Seth Tobocman as a tangentially related comic (about a squatters movement in the New York City Lower East Side) that I read years ago (review re-posted in 2020) and then it turned out that both Romberger and Tobocman contributed to the anthology magazine World War 3. See my review of their 48th issue, Fight Fascism, back in 2020 as well.
The final connection is that I hadn't noticed that Romberger also illustrated Aaron and Ahmed with writer Jay Cantor. A book I reviewed in I think my first year on this channel. I keep meaning to revisit it, as obviously that video is no longer public; so perhaps this will be my final catalyst.
To conclude, as I already warned, not a book for everyone, but as I've also already insinuated am exquisite work. Five stars.
December 29, 2019
Um grito de raiva/dor/desespero em forma de quadrinho. Esse quadrinho foi escrito nos últimos anos de vida do autor, após ele se descobrir soropositivo. Isso tudo em 1990, no boom da doença e na falta de tratamento preciso, a falta de informação, e a precarização da vida. É extremamente cruel, visceral, descritivo, ao mesmo tempo que mesclado com uma arte surrealista muito bonita, ainda que agoniante. Um soco no estômago.
July 4, 2021
Need to read more David Wojnarowicz...
August 4, 2025
I will have to revisit this. Reading this at work the day after my elderly gay friend who survived the AIDS epidemic’s wake was a bad idea.
October 9, 2016
Photographer, filmmaker, writer and activist David Wojnarowicz suffered through the AIDS crisis, was targeted by Reverend Jesse Helms's campaign to cut the National Endowment for the Arts' funding for racial and sexual minorities who allegedly created "pornography" with tax funding, escaped an abusive father by becoming a teenage hustler in a pre-gentrified Times Square and watched all his friends and former lovers die while a hostile political machine vilified and exploited the victims. His "Close to the Knives: A Memoir of Disintegration" is one of the most beautifully written books I have ever read. 7 Miles a Second uses excerpts from Wojnarowicz's memoirs and compelling illustrations, many that are directly inspired by his collages, to tell a brief and fragmented account of the artist's life. I would honestly recommend reading "Close to the Knives" before investigating "7 Miles a Second" but the artists responsible for rendering these excerpts in the graphic novel format should be celebrated. For a period of time the art books offering reproductions of his work were woefully out of print as the AIDS crisis became a distant memory displaced by the political battle for marriage equality and assimilation. When a short film at the Smithsonian inspired the outrage of Catholics almost twenty years after his death, a biography was published, 7 Miles a Second was printed, most of his writing was re-published and eventually his Brush Fires in the Social Landscape was re-printed. Ironically conservative outrage reignited interest in the work of a poet hustler who photographed an era that was rapidly being erased in a culture with no memory.
June 7, 2013
This had been on my to-read shelf for awhile and was on the Denver Public Library's LGBTQ comics list. After a few pages, I wished it had come with a trigger warning (due to graphic depictions of the author's experiences as an underage prostitute, including a violent assault). By the time I figured out who the author was, that he's already well-known and died of AIDS-related causes in '92, the text and accompanying images had taken on a much more purposeful and brilliantly painful scope in my mind. There's some powerful poetry of rage in these pages, and the illustrations and colours capture a hallucinogenic fury perfectly juxtaposed with frightfully real stories from Wojnarowicz's life from childhood til his deathbed.
June 28, 2018
Both real-life scenarios and speed-fueled hallucinations or dreams are presented chronologically, without any other order. The work is effectively plotless. Violent & squalid moments are cherry-picked for depiction, one disturbing event upon another. The only truly meaningful moment is when David visits a dying friend in hospital, so much else is just random grotesquery. The effect is disturbing without many redeeming artistic qualities. Not worth reading.
October 26, 2013
Wojnarowicz is just one of my favorite writers period, so the mediocre rating isn't because of the text -- it's because I'm not sure if repackaging and decontextualizing his work in this way is necessary. Found it more distracting than anything.
April 11, 2017
I always feel guilty criticizing work as personal as Wojnarowicz's. Especially since his voice, while personal, has come to represent so many without voices.
Still.
The best things here, in my opinion, are the art and the watercolors, which to my eye are gorgeous.
Still.
The best things here, in my opinion, are the art and the watercolors, which to my eye are gorgeous.
April 24, 2015
A fever dream sequence of memory, sex, alienation and rage, beautifully illustrated, and not quite long enough to satisfy but an intriguing appetizer for a full investigation of Wojnarowicz. Somehow I didn't pick up on this artist along the way, and now my curiosity is full-on piqued.
June 15, 2010
Raw, powerful and such an important book. Someone should save this book from DC Comics and reprint it.
August 18, 2016
A psycho, dark, fucked up journey through sadness.
August 13, 2024
a receipt slipped out of this book as I read it
on
Friday, April 7, 2023 at 2:58:38 PM
Title: 7 miles a second
Due: 5/5/2023
Total items: 1
You just saved $20.00 by using your library. You have saved $20.00 this past year and $20.00 since you began using the library!
at this exact time I was spending $20.00 on a pair of oatmeal brown walkie talkies from a garage with a friend, then running to buy appropriate batteries for them, extending their yard long antennae out to heaven, and sprinting down the sidewalk to try to talk to each other. neither could pick the other up, instead pulling snippets of radio from around us, clipped and distorted. for a moment they picked up Orpheus’s car radio and the final thoughts passing through the minds of the dying. mostly they picked up sports reports, football and such. a man yelling in italian.
in the book’s first vignette, wojnarowicz is paid an additional $20.00 by a john. “that’ll make you feel better. just forget about it.” this is double the $10 he offers the kid on the street, and brings his total for the night to $5 more than the $25 the boy asked for to begin with.
I was being paid $20.00 an hour to babysit for the first time in my life the night I first really looked at wojnarowicz’s work. I was writing a response to “one day this kid…” and I was getting so angry and I was lying on the floor and rolling around and I could not write a full page no matter how hard I tried and in the room over two kids were asleep after I let them watch tv for an extra half-hour. what is there to say other than “he’s just a kid man…”? except to say that who gets to be a kid is subject to some disagreement and that one day this kid will no longer be a kid in the eyes of politicians and propagandists and the grand arbiters of childhood innocence. one day this kid will be, as he writes, a kid who has “only had sex with older men since I was nine.” and at that point he will be denied the label “kid.”
I spent $20.00 at the door to come in and dance and when you asked how far away I lived you laughed and said “aren’t we all 40 minutes by train?” and that’s true. I am reading instead of calling because the 40 minutes feels so long. there is an untitled collage of us in storage at the whitney, but everyone saw it dancing.
“it makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer.”
what a joy to be alive and to feel you might be torn to shreds, or thrown through your car windshield, or fall with a herd of bison off a cliff, or crushed under vast mechanical weight, or burst through the atmosphere at 7 miles a second!
on
Friday, April 7, 2023 at 2:58:38 PM
Title: 7 miles a second
Due: 5/5/2023
Total items: 1
You just saved $20.00 by using your library. You have saved $20.00 this past year and $20.00 since you began using the library!
at this exact time I was spending $20.00 on a pair of oatmeal brown walkie talkies from a garage with a friend, then running to buy appropriate batteries for them, extending their yard long antennae out to heaven, and sprinting down the sidewalk to try to talk to each other. neither could pick the other up, instead pulling snippets of radio from around us, clipped and distorted. for a moment they picked up Orpheus’s car radio and the final thoughts passing through the minds of the dying. mostly they picked up sports reports, football and such. a man yelling in italian.
in the book’s first vignette, wojnarowicz is paid an additional $20.00 by a john. “that’ll make you feel better. just forget about it.” this is double the $10 he offers the kid on the street, and brings his total for the night to $5 more than the $25 the boy asked for to begin with.
I was being paid $20.00 an hour to babysit for the first time in my life the night I first really looked at wojnarowicz’s work. I was writing a response to “one day this kid…” and I was getting so angry and I was lying on the floor and rolling around and I could not write a full page no matter how hard I tried and in the room over two kids were asleep after I let them watch tv for an extra half-hour. what is there to say other than “he’s just a kid man…”? except to say that who gets to be a kid is subject to some disagreement and that one day this kid will no longer be a kid in the eyes of politicians and propagandists and the grand arbiters of childhood innocence. one day this kid will be, as he writes, a kid who has “only had sex with older men since I was nine.” and at that point he will be denied the label “kid.”
I spent $20.00 at the door to come in and dance and when you asked how far away I lived you laughed and said “aren’t we all 40 minutes by train?” and that’s true. I am reading instead of calling because the 40 minutes feels so long. there is an untitled collage of us in storage at the whitney, but everyone saw it dancing.
“it makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer.”
what a joy to be alive and to feel you might be torn to shreds, or thrown through your car windshield, or fall with a herd of bison off a cliff, or crushed under vast mechanical weight, or burst through the atmosphere at 7 miles a second!
February 28, 2022
Although I have already heard about David Wojnarowicz, I knew little about his life, and this is a very interesting cartoon that tries to summon up a life worth knowing better. I won't stop at him, for sure.
The man on the tv has a replaceable head. He can have the face of a doctor or a politician, of a research scientist or a priest with a swastika tattooed on his heart claiming this is God's punishment and he talks about me in words that make me sound like an insect: "carrier" and "infected" and whenever he shows pictures of me I am always bedridden and alone and on the edge of death and he says I mist surppress my sexuality whether I am a man or a woman, whether I am homosexual or heterosexual, whether I have AIDS or not, and he says I must not fuck and I must no suck and I can't have desires... And it is ironic when he takes on the face of a family man who wants to protect his children because I am his child and I have AIDS and AIDS is used as a weapon to enforce the conservative agenda.
Indeed, it was, with Reagen and Thatcher silences, sons and daughters of the same society that resulted in the many men and women infected by HIV, with not a hint of a sense of humanity or empathy or whatever. How many lives became a freak show to the contentment of a whole bunch of the global societies, the same societies that 40 years later had to face a more devastating disease, and showed how little they do have of humanity. And that same age that bred Reagens and Thatchers were the result of the same rotten societies and so on backward.
And I keep wondering: what is the great deal about the human race?
The man on the tv has a replaceable head. He can have the face of a doctor or a politician, of a research scientist or a priest with a swastika tattooed on his heart claiming this is God's punishment and he talks about me in words that make me sound like an insect: "carrier" and "infected" and whenever he shows pictures of me I am always bedridden and alone and on the edge of death and he says I mist surppress my sexuality whether I am a man or a woman, whether I am homosexual or heterosexual, whether I have AIDS or not, and he says I must not fuck and I must no suck and I can't have desires... And it is ironic when he takes on the face of a family man who wants to protect his children because I am his child and I have AIDS and AIDS is used as a weapon to enforce the conservative agenda.
Indeed, it was, with Reagen and Thatcher silences, sons and daughters of the same society that resulted in the many men and women infected by HIV, with not a hint of a sense of humanity or empathy or whatever. How many lives became a freak show to the contentment of a whole bunch of the global societies, the same societies that 40 years later had to face a more devastating disease, and showed how little they do have of humanity. And that same age that bred Reagens and Thatchers were the result of the same rotten societies and so on backward.
And I keep wondering: what is the great deal about the human race?
December 17, 2021
This graphic 'novel' of stories was approved to be published by David Wojnarowicz's estate well after his death. "7 Miles A Second" is three separate stories: Thirst, Stray Dogs, and 7 Miles A Second, each beautifully illustrated, and impactful. They are not easy stories, Thirst & Stray Dogs, are about his life on the streets as a homeless youth. In the feature title story he's working on his art and sick from AIDS in an apartment, so he got off the streets but is not doing well. With some beautiful lyrics we are enmeshed in his fascination with the body of his lover; "If I could attach our blood vessels/so we could become each other I/would. If I could attach our blood/vessels in order to anchor you to/the earth to this preset time/I would I f I could open up your/body and slip up inside your skin/and look out your eyes and/forever have my lips fused with/yours I would."
The graphics and colors are vivid in this oversize book so we get the full impact of his words and the feeling.
The graphics and colors are vivid in this oversize book so we get the full impact of his words and the feeling.
May 20, 2025
A collaboration between artists David Wojnarowicz, James Romberger, and colorist Marguerite Van Cook, 7 Miles a Second captures the bright, incandescent flash of life that was David Wojnarowicz— from his childhood of sex work and abuse on the streets of the Lower East Side, to the interweaving of his teenage dreamscapes, to his poetic rage against his own impending death by AIDS as a man. It is horrifying and infuriating to reckon with the whole generation of queer lives that were snuffed out like Wojnarowicz's, and devastating to think of the world we have been deprived of because artists like him were not allowed to live. Absolutely gutting.
March 8, 2019
I realize it's considered a classic and I had high hopes -- especially when I thought the story was moving toward the standard set by the more openly, experimental films from the first half of the 1990s. Unfortunately, I was lost fairly early. And I feel more than a hint of guilt admitting I had to read the brief bio on the back to be sure I was understanding the way it was intended. I'm sure this book holds a special place in the hearts of people who lived through this time, but it doesn't resonate with me quite the same way.
March 16, 2024
“i am consumed by the emptiness lying beneath each and every action i witness of others and myself, each little gesture in the movement of the planet it its canons and arroyos, in its suburbs and cities, in the motions of wind and light, each little action continuing the slow death of ourselves, the slow motion approach of the unveiling of our order and disorder in its ultimate climax, beginning with a spark so subtle and beautiful that to trust it is to trust our own stupidity”
gave me shock and awe
gave me shock and awe
July 19, 2024
7 Miles A Second serves as a perfect example of how the comics medium can bring about powerful and personal works. This short spiral of a tale, coming from Fantagraphics then Vertigo, documents David Wojnarowicz’ struggles with AIDS and his own tragic youth. The format of the book allows for constant experimentation with how David’s story is told and portrays one of many in their hardships amidst the AIDS crisis. It is an impactful and heartfelt treatise that pays tribute and does so much with so little.
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