Adrian Tomine’s cult comix series Optic Nerve is finally collected into one sharp-looking hardcover volume. Described as the Raymond Carver of comix, Tomine constructs tales of emotional disconnection with an ear for painfully real dialogue. Combined with his deft black and white depictions of urbane lifestyles, Tomine’s fans have often accused him of eavesdropping in on their most intimate moments and, with forensic skill, laying their lives bare. The conflicts between emotional gratification, narcissistic neediness and moral discernment mark the title story in which a socially crippled man nurses an obsessive crush on a young woman. He watches close up, paralyzed by his guilt, as her beauty catches the eye of his a hip, selfish young man with a short attention span. One of Optic Nerve ’s most popular stories, `Hawaiian Getaway,` features Hilary, telephone service rep who is having the worst week of her life. She lost her job, her apartment, and her grandmother. Close to the edge, she is losing her grip. Reaching out to random strangers on the phone, Hilary is looking for someone to help her. In "Alter Ego" a successful young author has writer`s block. He can`t, or won`t, decide between another ghostwriting gig and finishing his second ‘real’ novel. He stalls on committing to his novel and his girlfriend when a chance postcard leads him to flirt with fantasies of changing the past. Finally, "Bomb Scare" documents the early unease of his generation by setting this coming-of-age story during the tense months of the Gulf War, the event that ushered in the 1990s.
Adrian Tomine was born in 1974 in Sacramento, California. He began self-publishing his comic book series Optic Nerve. His comics have been anthologized in publications such as McSweeney’s, Best American Comics, and Best American Nonrequired Reading, and his graphic novel "Shortcomings" was a New York Times Notable Book of 2007. His next release, "Killing and Dying" will be published by Drawn and Quarterly in October 2015.
Since 1999, Tomine has been a regular contributor to The New Yorker. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and daughters.
Inutile cercare avventura, azione, detection, colpi di scena, trame piene d’intreccio nelle storie di Tomine che più ordinarie non si potrebbe. I personaggi di Tomine vivono in appartamenti normali, di solito sulla West Coast, di solito a Berkeley, e possono avere vicini e compagni di casa fastidiosi - fanno lavori normali, mai brillanti, a volte li perdono, rimangono disoccupati - hanno storie d’amore che funzionano così così, oppure funzionano malino, finiscono, tentano di cominciarne di nuove con qualcuno da cui dovrebbero stare alla larga – sono gente timida, impacciata, solitaria, alla ricerca dell’amore, dell’amicizia, gente non particolarmente simpatica, anche mediocre – persone non dilaniate dalla felicità e neppure dall’infelicità, più a mollo in un brodo di medietà.
Sfigati, perdenti, tendenti al depresso, soli, routinier che masticano amaro di fronte al successo altrui… Generazionalmente sembrano essere quella generazione X di cui si è parlato tanto, una generazione svogliata che cresce e invecchia senza diventare più saggia.
Anche il disegno di Tomine appare ordinario: né bello né brutto, ma efficace, perfettamente integrato col racconto. Disegno statico per racconti che statici non sono. Disegno quasi elementare epperò molto espressivo. Disegno sintetico ma non privo di dettagli, visivamente ricco, ben tagliato, ben inquadrato, ben alternato, e soprattutto, funzionale. Probabilmente non vincerà mai un premio per i suoi disegni, ma lo vincerà sicuramente per la qualità del suo storytelling.
Allora, cosa rende queste storie, fumetti o graphic novel che dir si voglia, speciali?
L’ironia? La verosimiglianza? Il naturalismo? Il fatto che le storie non iniziano e non finiscono, dissolvono? L’assenza di bruschezza? La mancanza di violenza? Le sfumature? La complessità psicologia? La facilità a identificarsi in personaggi e storie? Il fatto che le sue storie sembrano molto simili alla vita di tutti i giorni, a quella che conosciamo bene?
SHUT UP, Adrian Tomine. I get that your characters are all you, and that they're all your girlfriends, and that they're all lonely and disconnected and pathetic. I get it, now SHUT UP. And endings? I know they're not hip, but you could humour us with some, couldn't you?
Oh, people can be so pathetic. Yes, they can be. And disconnected. And lonely. They struggle with their feelings. And with their relationships. It’s really hard to like them, sometimes. They seem so alienated and powerless. And they keep making bad choices and connect with even more unlikeable characters. Aren’t they just so hopeless? These people don’t seem to find meaning and joy in their lives. It’s just so depressing to observe these socially inept characters. At the same time, it’s also incredibly fascinating.
Like this young writer who, after having written one successful book, starts to neglect his work and his perfectly fine romantic relationship. Is he already blinded by his precarious fame?
And like that creepy, lonely middle-aged man who falls for a much younger, cute blonde girl. Such a loser! Can’t he just accept that she has not the slightest interest in him, and that in reality, she isn’t as cute as he imagines she is?
And there’s this young woman who loses her job and becomes depressed. She really is unpleasant, even her mother always said so. And her younger, accomplished sister as well. Can’t she just be like her successful sister?
Finally, we are offered a glimpse into teenage angst in high-school life. Oh no, not again! Why do these American teenagers all seem to have miserable lives in high school? And lots of bullies? I’ve always had a hard time to understand this teenage angst. I loved to go to school. I was bored during school holidays, and I missed my friends from school. Okay, I didn’t like everybody equally. And not everybody liked me, I guess. But unfortunately, you just can’t nudge people into liking you. That doesn’t mean you have to feel unaccepted and socially irrelevant. Just be yourself, and it will all turn out fine. Just never accept anyone bullying you, or any other person. Just don’t. Defend yourself and more importantly, defend others against bullies. Don’t be a bystander; don’t be afraid. Just bite this bully’s nose off (figuratively speaking, of course). And go sit next to that invisible person, and start a conversation. Usually these seemingly isolated people turn out to be really great and fun and interesting persons. They just seem to be waiting for a nice person to come along and find them. Just don’t expect anyone to be loyal to you. People usually aren’t very loyal; loyalty is such a rare quality in people. People always seem to be on the lookout for new connections ; they seem to be driven by this irresistible need to connect with new people, and forget about others along the way. That can be really hurtful. But we just go on living our imperfect lives and hurt people and by doing so, create our own loneliness. Even if you present your loyalty on a silver platter, people rarely accept it. They don’t want the love and attention that’s attainable. It seems that people prefer the unpredictability of imperfect relationships, because it simply is more exciting.
I really like those quiet Sundancy American indie movies like Wendy and Lucy, Welcome to the Dollhouse, Winter’s Bone, Frozen River, Ghost World, Gigantic, Go, Happiness, Humpday and Please Give – even when they don’t knock your socks off the atmosphere of teetering-on-the-edge-of-melancholia is just right for me, it’s like a bottle of my favourite bootleg hooch*; and Summer Blonde is exactly one of those movies, in graphic novel form. I loved the bittersweet tang of all four stories here, and the only thing I really didn’t like was that it was so short, one hour and you’re done, huh? What? I want more! I wish I could inhale all the sturdy non-fiction I have lined up on my shelf in the same way – that would be great – America’s Constitution, The Worm in the Bud, London : A Social History – if I could drink those all down in a couple of hours, but damn they take ages to read. And I suppose if they were graphicnovelised they’d be like a million pages long. It wouldn’t be practical. (But you could really do Raymond Carver as a graphic novel.)
Anyway. Adrian Tomine’s style is a little bit of heaven that you’ve chipped off and slipped in your pocket while nobody was looking. Along with the sad sweet storylines with their sometimes wrenching endings, there are so many other delights - I probably shouldn’t say this but the girls are so cute, even the ones who aren’t supposed to be. It’s a fairly well known syndrome to be attracted to cartoon characters, I think – er, I hope I’m not alone here – and er, well, perhaps I’ve said enough already about that aspect of Mr Tomine’s art.
Yes, wonderful stuff.
*Further recommendations gratefully received. This is not relevant, but the British version of the American indie movie isn't like this at all, it's hard-edged violent stuff about the underclass. Take that, Mary Poppins.
Collecting four short stories originally published as Optic Nerve #5-8, Summer Blonde provides the compelling, highly memorable glimpses into teenage angst, alienation and romance you'd expect from Adrian Tomine. It's impressive stuff, especially considering Tomine was only in his 20s when these comics originally came out. The influence of cartoonists such as Dan Clowes and Jaime Hernandez can still be felt, but Tomine is gradually developing his own brand of subtly voyeuristic storytelling here. Highly recommended to fans of alternative comics, especially those with a weak spot for less-than-heroic protagonists!
I wasn't initially planning to write a review for Summer Blonde, but thought it necessary to share my thoughts - both on this collection and on general meaning in literature - after seeing some rather negative feedback from fellow readers on this graphic novel.
Summer Blonde is the first piece I've read by Adrian Tomine. It consists of four short stories following the everyday lives of four different characters, all equally flawed and unlikeable, yet tied together by their feelings of loneliness and alienation. A quiet middle-aged man who falls for the girl working the register at the local greeting card shop. A recent graduate working as a phone operator, who struggles with her relationship with her roommate, her parents, and her successful sister.
One facet of this collection which many have listed as a major point of criticism is the fact that none of these stories end on a positive note. In fact, each story cuts off abruptly without much of an ending at all - there is no grandiose metaphor, no definitive resolution, no message to behold. If you're looking for a conventional plot structure, you won't find it here. Just as Tomine drops us right into the lives of these characters at the beginning of each story, so the endings have a similarly jarring quality to them. Things happen to these characters - the plot progresses, internal conflict becomes clear, tensions rise with each turn of the page. But, for the most part, the characters remain wholly emotionally unchanged despite this progression.
The lack of emotional development, though albeit frustrating for the reader, makes Tomine's work arguably far more memorable and realistic than most. The subtle experiences he presents us with are but a few of many experiences which make up the entirety of our long lives. And that's exactly what this book is: it is subtle and it is quiet. It is a snippet into the unchanging nature of our existence. But through it all, Summer Blonde remains unarguably real and that is its power.
Yes, it is probably unlike most graphic novels you've read. Yes, Tomine has chosen - objectively - to craft a piece which is devoid of an identifiable overarching theme or metaphor. But, to quote Leigh Bardugo in her review of This One Summer, a brilliant graphic novel by the Tamaki's which faced similar criticism, this lack of an ending "is exactly as it should be." My only criticism is that, collectively, though tied together by similar emotions and experiences, these stories lacked a sense of flow between them (possibly stemming from the main characters' similar personalities).
Though it certainly isn't for everyone, I will say that this collection has stayed with me longer than most graphic novels I've read. I must recommend Tomine to all graphic novel enthusiasts as a must-read author. I'm looking forward to exploring the rest of his work in the near future.
I suppose my reaction to the stories in this book is largely dependent on my hope that Tomine is truly critiquing the "nice guy" types who are the protagonists of his stories. Making a character loathsome is not the same thing as calling into question the basic validity of their self-image (for evidence that the two aren't necessarily the same thing, see Philip Roth or Martin Amis or Richard Ford).
The way that most of Tomine's female characters remain locked in the terms of manic-pixie-dream-girl fantasies is perhaps evidence that, while Tomine wants to show the limitations of the "nice guy," he's also somewhat afraid that those limitations reveal something inherent and true about the interactions of men and women. Or, to put it a different way, he seems to believe that the way a lonely, introverted man or boy looks at women has some validity as criticism of the way that society works to prevent better, more open, mutually fulfilling relationships between men and women. But the way that Tomine seems to define those relationships is, at best, heteronormative and, at worst, still misogynist--the idea he presents of what a better, healthier society would look like is simply one that sweeps away the bad gender norms and social structures that keeps nice guys from getting the girls they want, and allows girls to get the nice guys they deserve.
This is still misogynistic because 1) it presumes that the purpose of women--especially pretty women--is to be in a relationship with a man (just a man who's better at seeing their worth) and 2) it sees women as mostly to blame for not helping nice guys to overcome this system. Women are victims, but they're not fighting back, and that's why nice guys can't have nice things. That's obviously a toxic view of women, yet one that tragically has all too convincing a logic to the kind of young men (and some young women) reading works like this, accomplished and polished as it is.
Las historias de Adrian Tomine son intimistas, minimalistas, autobiográficas. Hablan de su adolescencia como alguien tímido que le cuesta tratar con el sexo opuesto y la sociedad en general. Uno puede llegar a empatizar con las historias, sus personajes llegan a ser fiel copia de su pasado. El problema es que siempre domina el mismo talante. El sentimiento de culpa y vergüenza reinante ensombrece toda la obra, se vuelve depresivo y monotemático. Cuatro historias que podrían ser protagonizadas por los mismos personajes a pesar que son todos distintos. Es notorio el avance del autor en sus cualidades artísticas y narrativas secuenciales y sus finales abruptos algo abiertos están bien logrados.
Ok, I read this for kind of a wonky reason: having watched Jacques Audiard's award-winning and controversial film 'Emilia Perez' (twice actually - and yeah, I don't wanna hear how awful it is - I loved it!), I decided to sample his back catalog ... and his immediate predecessor was a film called 'Les Olympiades' (or in English, 'Paris, 13th District') - which was loosely based on three of Tomine's graphic novel short pieces - one ('Hawaiian Getaway') in this volume and two in his Killing and Dying: Stories.
So the story in this was basically used for the character of Emilie Wong in the film (though she's called Hillary Chan here) and other than that, not much of the actual story is used. But I enjoyed it, even though ALL of the four stories in here are somewhat depressing; mainly I was just interested in Audiard's use of the material. Another cool thing though, is that a BART map is included as the endpaper, and my hometown is shown on it! :-)
Adrian Tomine's characters and stories are not for me. I rapidly skimmed the title story (2nd of 4 in this collection) from about the midpoint. Someday i hope to understand what other people have enjoyed so much about his work as it'll likely mean i've learned something about Gen Xers. For now, i feel more alienated from Tomine's work than his typical lead characters feel from the girls they long for.
Upon further self-examination: I feel affronted, angry, irritated. I'm fighting an urge to create a mean-spirited parody of this book. And to say unkind things about its author, about whom i know absolutely nothing personal. I realized a while ago that i probably hate the Black Crowes and Green Day not because they are inherently void of musical talent but because their talent violates some basic assumption i have about music. Furthermore, the strength of my loathing probably indicates that they display above average talent. Maybe i should conclude the same about Tomine and his comix.
Summer Blonde consists of four stories about people who have difficulty connecting with the world outside of themselves and spend a lot of time thinking about that situation. Sounds like a pretty deadly setup for a book, but Adrian Tomine has created a book that is anything but deadly. He's done it by using screenplay (and short story writer) techniques such as not focusing strictly on one character and cutting between characters to mix things up and create and maintain interest. I have very little experience with graphic novels, but I wonder whether there are similarities in writing a successful graphic novel and writing a successful screenplay.
I'd like to give a tip of the cap to a GR friend, Paul Bryant, whose review turned me on to Summer Blonde and whose review is more eloquent than mine.
Such a right-on look at urban/suburban loneliness. We all may not have felt this way in our high school and college and 20-something years, but I sure have at times. Sure, the characters are whiny and self-pitying, but so are people who actually go through those situations. This is not as Raymond Carver-redux as everybody is claiming--for one thing, the situations are a little more unusual, where Carver really gets great mileage out of the banal and the utterly ordinary. No, this feels like classic lonely-dead-end-job art, a bunch of just-heartbreaking-enough little gems about how surreal the world can feel when the bottom drops out of your serotonin levels.
Tomine isn't my hero, but I recognize a little too much of myself in his work to have anything but some serious respect for his artistry.
Рідко коли можна зустріти живих і переконливих персонажів. Не тільки у коміксах, але в будь-якому іншому виді мистецтва. Завжди десь є відчуття штучності й картонності, віддаленості від реальних проблем, якась особиста несумісність. Тим більше це трапляється у випадку з якимось далекими від твого культурного простору героями. Однак Адріан Томіне, відомий американський ілюстратор і автор інді коміксів, не просто створює комплексних, складних і реально живих персонажів, але й ще уміє так-сяк торкнутись нашого емоційного фону завдяки своїм дивакуватим, дещо абсурдним історіям.
Якщо взяти цей конкретний збірник із чотирьох історій, то усіх їх єднає мотив самотності, відчуженості й непорозуміння. Це може бути історія про самотнього закомплексованого хлопця, який своєю асоціальною поведінкою приречений на довге одиноке життя, але все ж не може позбутись свого суб'єкта обожнювання, яка живе відразу за парканом. І не страшно, що він стежить за нею і готовий втрутитись у її життя, боронити від неправильних стосунків. І тим більше не страшно, що вона взагалі не проявляє до нього інтересу. Або історія про молоду китаянку, яка ніяк не може впоратись зі своїм життям. Точніше, життя йде якось не так, все falling apart, тому єдине, що лишається -- телефонувати випадковим людям, які проходять на вулиці повз телефонну будку. Навіть матір вважає її неприємною та жалюгідною особою.
Кожна історія сповнена психологізму, якогось життєвого надриву, хоча з героями нічого феноменального не відбувається. Усюди є відчуття якоїсь ізольованості людей від людей, немов кожен ходить у своєму скляному кубі (пригадується блискуча історія Кобо Абе "Людина-коробка"), приреченому на емоційну та чуттєву апатію. І наче все гаразд, але десь щось вислизає із нашого розуміння. Вислизає у простих буденних ситуаціях. Ну хіба ми не перебирали із алкоголем, після чого було соромно за сказане й скоєне? Чи не закохувались у недосяжних людей? Чи не були осліплені тимчасовим успіхом? Усе це побутові виміри життя, але Томіне вміє подати їх так філігранно, що вони переживаються як людські універсалії. Рідко коли коміксист так гармонійно вміє поєднувати сценарну й візуальну складові, не втрачаючи цей баланс жодного разу. А ще рідше вміє правдиво, неупереджено дивитись на невдачі й недоліки, з яких складається наше недосконале життя.
2013: Somehow I always expect Adrian Tomine to be about 30-50% more menschy than he is. Or than his characters is. You feel me. Probably four stars but everyone in these stories is having a hard time and being kind of unhappy and I just. I just want Anastasia Krupnik and Beverly Cleary right now.
2020: Woof, what a lil stinker this guy can be. This book in particular is also veeeeeery Clowes-y. Masterful as heck but grim and sour :/
Una obra íntima y melancólica, vertebrada por un sentimiento de vergüenza puro, delicado, universal... y sí, por momentos, humanamente patético. Tomine retrata con contención las ansiedades e inseguridades de sus personajes, sumiéndolos en espirales sin fin.
Absténganse lectores ansiosos de historias trepidantes. Los relatos de Tomine pueden ser para todo el mundo, pero sólo si uno quiere.
La mayoría de las veces en que ‘los perdedores’ (los pringados, los pardillos) son representados en la ficción, son dotados de una cierta aura de bondad y de incomprensión que parece inherente a su marginalidad social. Me gusta mucho que Adrian Tomine centre sus historias en la representación de vidas de personas que no encajan con el estereotipo del éxito, pero me gusta aún más que -ni siquiera cuando él mismo es el retratado- otorgue a sus marginados ese aura de santidad, y los retrate tan ruines, mezquinos, perezosos, inseguros, inmorales y conflictivos como a cualquier otra persona.
En ‘Rubia de verano’ se recogen cuatro historietas medianas del dibujante publicadas a principios del siglo XXI: un escritor que empieza a tener éxito y recibe una postal de una chica que le rechazó en el instituto; un acosador que envidia las conquistas sexuales de su vecino; una joven que acaba de perder su triste trabajo y se dedica a hacer bromas telefónicas; y un adolescente que reniega de su único amigo para ascender socialmente. Sus historias son complejas, levemente oscuras y algo deprimentes, pero son también un análisis certero de los miedos de una generación, de las flaquezas de una sociedad y de las angustias privadas de las que poco se habla.
Su dibujo es maravilloso y perfectamente reconocible. Este volumen está bastante bien, pero creo que no está a la altura de Intrusos. Mi favorito del autor es, sin duda, La soledad del dibujante: ya que aunque son historietas mucho más cortas y mucho menos elaboradas, para mí todo lo que sea autobiográfico tiene un plus de interés mucho mayor.
An incredibly painful read but Adrian Tomine is the real deal and writes about loneliness and emotional frailty like nobody else in comics I’ve read. The fact that he uses that talent to draw characters who are so pathetic and frustrating and occasionally very gross is I think why a lot of people seem to be freaked out by his stuff— his characters aren’t bad people, but they are definitely fucked up in very real, truthful ways that can be kind of upsetting to read when you’re used to protagonists who are either squeaky clean or at least TRYING to be good people. The people in this collection make nothing but bad decisions and don’t exhibit any growth by the abrupt endings of their stories, but it feels true to the messiness of life in a way that not a lot of writing captures! So excited to read more of his stuff.
‘Rubia de verano’ me ha fascinado. Está entre las obras literarias que más me han llegado, la colocaría en mi lista de libros favoritos, sean cómics o no. Visualmente seguramente no será tan impactante como otros cómics contemporáneos que tienen probablemente más renombre (estoy pensacndo concretamente en el 'Jimmy Corrigan' y 'Blankets'), aunque el estilo visual de Tomine no deja de ser perfectamente efectivo. Y además narrativamente es infinitamente más satisfactorio. Son cuatro historias breves que me recordaron en cierto modo a los mejores cuentos de Raymond Carver, porque como estos hablan de personajes complejos y contradictorios, porque son trozos de vida, porque están despojados de todo lo superfluo (nada de florituras visuales, esta vez), porque son sobrios y secos, y porque además la última viñeta es demoledora y es la que da sentido a toda la historia. Son piezas perfectas de literatura. Y punto.
Está bien pero no me pareció magnífica. Muy cinematográfica pero demasiado deprimente. Los personajes representan bien la soledad pero algunos son tan patéticos que no me interesaba qué fuera de ellos. Preferí por mucho las dos últimas historias a las primeras.
Tomine siempre magnifico e impecable en el dibujo. Historias rodeadas de la poetica de lo cotidiano. Se trata de un volumen con cuatro historias cortas, donde es una de ellas la que da titulo al libro.
Quattro ritratti di perdenti: lo scrittore che dopo il successo ottenuto col romanzo d'esordio non riesce a ritrovare l'ispirazione per il secondo libro e prova a cercarla dove non dovrebbe (Alter Ego), il trentenne introverso che quando finalmente avvicina la ragazza che gli piace si becca dello stalker maniaco e decide di "vendicarsi" (Summer Blonde), la giovane disoccupata e depressa che non sa come riprendere il controllo sulla sua vita (Hawaiian Getaway) e infine il liceale "loser" che scarica l'unico amico che ha perché ancora più "loser" e bullizzato di lui (Bomb Scare). Nessuna enfasi ma tanto dramma, raccontato in modo asciutto (è ormai automatico quando si parla di Tomine il riferimento al minimalismo di Carver) e realistico. Storie che rovesciano addosso badilate di desolazione e sconforto, anche se la mia preferita, Hawaiian Getaway, non ha un vero finale e permette di immaginarsene uno lieto (per quanto credo che la lettura delle altre tre non metta in uno stato d'animo tale da lasciarsi andare all'ottimismo).
I loathe and detest most "modern fiction" - you know, the kind of crap where nothing really happens, only there's some kind of epiphany at the unclear "end". This is pretty much one of those books.
Every story centers around a dull, average-looking hipster whose observations about life are as annoying as whatever guy/girl he/she has a thing for. I'm a pretty peaceful person, but if I could beat each one of these characters to a living pulp, I would
The characters see cruelty in this world and reflect the cynicism that they see. The problem is they refuse to see anything else. Self absorption can be forgiven in teenagers but not excessive self pity generated by being anti social. As there is no ending or a right beginning to these characters, I could be horribly unfair in calling these characters that.
I don't know how I feel about this one: the actual short stories were engaging, interesting, refreshing, BUT none of them had a ending. They just stopped abruptly. I guess there was a message behind that, but I was not able to catch it.
Hated it. Every single frame. Illustrations are okay and while not my cuppa it was original. It made me long for cliches tho. Hard to believe this writer is a father of girls given his utterly bleak outlook on female behavior. Just 150+ pages of sad. Not the greatest start to a new year
Depressing short stories with unlikable characters and bad endings. I already forgot most of them. I also didn't like the art style in this graphic novel.
Um. This was interesting. I’m not even sure what I would classify this as? Short-story-graphic-novels? Is that a thing. ? Well Summer Blonde (Optic Care novels) made it one if it wasn’t one already.
I read a review that said that Summer Blonde perfectly embodies that nostalgia-for-summer feeling. Nostalgia for summers gone by, time gone by, life gone by. And I thought, YES. I need that! That sounds right up my alley. Nostalgia being one of my most favorite-least-favorite feelings:) Such a strange sentiment- that bittersweet yearning for a time that has passed, that sorta painful but nearly enjoyable longing for a moment in time. It’s always better in our memories isn’t it, because nostalgia can tint a memory with gold, shimmer and sparkles. We rarely appreciate the moment while we are IN it, but once it’s out of our grasp we see it for what it really was. A beautiful moment in our life that we will never get back, never be able to replicate, something we ache for because it is the very embodiment of the circle of life. Nostalgia. It sure is a tricky fucker. Is it a good or bad feeling? Who knows.
I love a good book that will get my nostalgic juices flowing. But this is not said book. And while I understand sort of what the person was getting at when they described this book as dripping with nostalgic feelings, I personally would categorize this as more....depressive? Strange? Blunt? And yet none of them would capture the essence of what I mean. They just feel unfinished. There are 4 short stories.
In the first a writer who has achieved some relative success with his first book struggled with the pressure of releasing the follow up. When he gets some fan mail from a Samantha with no last name or return address, he’s convinced it was the Samantha from high school that he pined for for years trying to reach him & he is desperate to locate her, thinking that finally attaining her will be the answer to all his writerly problems and will unlock his creative juices. When he searches for her tho, he finds her younger sister who’s still in HS instead and ultimately develops a sort of relationship with her. His girlfriend ends up finding out about it all and leaves him, which then leaves him even more sad and lonely than he started out.
The next story follows an older, & in-every-way-average guy as he frequents a local card shop in order to talk to a pretty young girl. Then we watch as Carlo, a classically good looking guy moves in next door who has a rotation of beautiful women coming in and out of his house. When he spots the girl from the card shop leaving his house, he throws a fit and reports this event to his therapist. When he sees the same young girl at a grocery store buying an e.p.t test, he tries to comfort her but she reacts harshly, yelling at him to get away from her which dashes his hopes of her attainability. He continues to watch the goings on of his neighbor next door with sadness and disdain. Paralyzed by his own anxieties.
Next, a lonely, overweight Asian girl with a going nowhere job starts making prank phone calls out of boredom. Her mother is a traditional Asian mother with words like barbs disguised as concern. The prank calls start to take a cruel turn as she watches from the window and says things like, you fat pig. You ugly P.O.S. One day, a guy that she tries to prank calls her out. Asks her which window she’s in. She tells him, and allows him to catch a glimpse of her, then allows herself to be convinced to meet up for coffee. When coffee turns to kissing that turns to sex, it seems as if they have a connection and she asks him to accompany her to her grandmas funeral. He seems more than willing. The story ends as she gets ready for the funeral, noting that he’s already half an hour late. Wondering, but not entirely caring whether he’ll show up or not.
The last story is about Scotty, a teenage boy. He’s a bit different from everyone else, doesn’t seem to have very many friends. Alex, the one single friend he does have shows him pornographic videos and rather than the excitement a normal teenage boy would typically feel, Scotty seems awkward, put off. Scotty befriends a girl Cammy after she gets so drunk at a party she loses control of her bowels. When she runs for student counsel, kids cruelly poke fun at her by throwing toilet paper. Scotty’s overly emotional sympathetic response seems strange to her, & she makes fun of him for it. When she ultimately informs him of her impending departure from their town, he’s upset. He shares with her his story about Alex, claiming that not only did he show him the porn, but later Scotty was awakened by Alex trying to unbotton his jeans. Whether or not this is true is questionable as we see later that Alex writes him a note implying that there may have been something more reciprocal that went on. When Cammy comes on to Scotty at the end, Scotty hesitates, and the story basically cuts to black with Scotty tangled in an embrace with Cammy, his face a frozen expression of fear and awkwardness, obviously not the face you’d expect a teenage boy to be making in that situation.
These were apparently comics that were part of a series that both began before and continued after this, but I have no intention of following these any further. They are single isolated stories with no connection to each other whatsoever, and I personally found them rather....odd. Like I mentioned earlier, I’d heard people mention the way these stories capture the essence of summer and youth and nostalgia, but I found them to be rather dry and boring. Rather than evoke feelings of nostalgia or connection to these stories, they struck me as depressive and bleak. There didn’t seem to be any point other than to serve as a sort of snapshot into the every day lives of very average people. There was no plot. No point. Nothing. It all felt more than a little anti climactic to me. I guess that was maybe the point, a little bit of a slice of life type of thing, a nice dose of reality and the endless disappointments and cruelties that are the lives of the average and in that way it was nice. Something unique, something refreshingly REAL rather than your typical stories with your flawless beauties as heroines, your dashing long haired, stout of heart heroes. Instead these stories looked familiar to us because they ARE us. Average, awkward, flawed...lonely. But that was really the only thing these stories had going for them, other than that each was a little more droll than the former and equally as pathetic as the last. I didn’t really understand where the ‘Summer Blonde’ thing came into play, that title implies sunshine, and fun, neither of which made an appearance in any of the stories. And, my absolute least favorite part about every story was their endings-or more so their lack thereof. Each story just sort of ended, with literally no conclusion of any sort, just a quick cut to black in the middle of a dry, depressing snapshot of random, unhappy people’s lives.
I’ve seen one or two reviews that characterize Tomine's protagonists in this book as “losers.” That seems, perhaps, a bit too negative to me. Sure, they're outsiders, intelligent enough to be dissatisfied with the banalities of ordinary life, and struggling to find fulfillment and meaning in a world that can seem devoid of both. His characters live in their heads, overly conscious of their own actions and motivations. They worry too much about how others perceive them.
Reading back over what I just wrote, I hear a sarcastic voice in my head saying, “And that's all different from being as loser how?” But, Jesus, that still sounds too negative to me! I think that, to me, a loser is someone to be looked down upon and/or pitied. But I like Tomine's protagonists. I want to encourage them, tell them, “Don't worry. It gets better.” I know in my heart that they can be winners. It just takes time.
So, clearly Tomine writes vivid, believable characters. The stories in this book seem to all end just a beat or two earlier than you’d expect, which lends them something of an ambiguous, literary quality. The artwork is superb, reminding me of something like a cross between the Hernandez brothers and Daniel Clowes. Highly recommended!
Depressing af, but the four stories kept me interested, and I was able to connect with the characters. The artwork is very good and engaging. I would have preferred the stories to be longer and have more depth or resolution to them.