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The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist
A comedic memoir about fandom, fame, and other embarrassments from the New York Times bestselling author of Killing and Dying
What happens when a childhood hobby grows into a lifelong career? The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist, Adrian Tomine's funniest and most revealing foray into autobiography, offers an array of unexpected answers. When a sudden medical incident lands Tomine in the emergency room, he begins to question if it was really all despite the accolades and opportunities of a seemingly charmed career, it's the gaffes, humiliations, slights, and insults he's experienced (or caused) within the industry that loom largest in his memory.
Tomine illustrates the amusing absurdities of how we choose to spend our time, all the while mining his conflicted relationship with comics and comics culture. But in between chaotic book tours, disastrous interviews, and cringe-inducing interactions with other artists, life Tomine fumbles his way into marriage, parenthood, and an indisputably fulfilling existence. A richer emotional story emerges as his memories are delineated in excruciatingly hilarious detail.
In a bold stylistic departure from his award-winning Killing and Dying, Tomine distills his art to the loose, lively essentials of cartooning, each pen stroke economically imbued with human depth. Designed as a sketchbook complete with place-holder ribbon and an elastic band, The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist shows an acclaimed artist at the peak of his career.
What happens when a childhood hobby grows into a lifelong career? The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist, Adrian Tomine's funniest and most revealing foray into autobiography, offers an array of unexpected answers. When a sudden medical incident lands Tomine in the emergency room, he begins to question if it was really all despite the accolades and opportunities of a seemingly charmed career, it's the gaffes, humiliations, slights, and insults he's experienced (or caused) within the industry that loom largest in his memory.
Tomine illustrates the amusing absurdities of how we choose to spend our time, all the while mining his conflicted relationship with comics and comics culture. But in between chaotic book tours, disastrous interviews, and cringe-inducing interactions with other artists, life Tomine fumbles his way into marriage, parenthood, and an indisputably fulfilling existence. A richer emotional story emerges as his memories are delineated in excruciatingly hilarious detail.
In a bold stylistic departure from his award-winning Killing and Dying, Tomine distills his art to the loose, lively essentials of cartooning, each pen stroke economically imbued with human depth. Designed as a sketchbook complete with place-holder ribbon and an elastic band, The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist shows an acclaimed artist at the peak of his career.
166 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 21, 2020
38 people are currently reading
4297 people want to read
About the author
Adrian Tomine
43 books1,161 followersAdrian 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.
Since 1999, Tomine has been a regular contributor to The New Yorker. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and daughters.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 611 reviews
December 12, 2025
IL PIÙ FAMOSO GIOCATORE DI BADMINTON
Il titolo originale, The Loneliness of the Long-distance Cartoonist gioca con quello di un racconto di Alan Sillitoe, capofila degli Angry Young Men inglesi, da cui poi un film che ha in qualche modo fatto storia, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (che in Italia diventò Gioventù amore e rabbia), diretto da Tony Richardson, primo marito di Vanessa Redgrave, pellicola pura espressione del cosiddetto Free Cinema, la New Wave britannica emersa a metà degli anni Cinquanta, di cui Richardson fu uno dei nomi più importanti.
Quanto di più lontano da supereroi, galassie sconosciute, mostri & Co., con un disegno semplice, essenziale, pulito, anche ingenuo, quasi infantile, pagine a quadretti scandite da sei vignette tutte in bianco e nero, ricorda più le classiche strisce anni Cinquanta e/o Sessanta. Viene molto in mente Charlie Brown per il costante abbacchiato rimuginare del protagonista, la depressione strisciante, i mugugni: se non che qui i personaggi sono adulti, mentre nei Peanuts gli adulti sono fuori campo, mai inquadrati. E quindi, ecco, si potrebbe dire la versione adulta dei Peanuts, con meno personaggi e un protagonista assoluto.
Il fumettista del titolo è proprio lo stesso Adrian Tomine che qui racconta in brevi capitoli appunti di viaggi legati alla sua professione: presentazioni, comics convention, interviste, incontri con colleghi e lettori…
Ogni capitolo fa avanzare il calendario di un anno, e ogni capitolo indica anche il luogo dove si svolge.
Così si apprende che Tomine dalla costa ovest, dove è nato, ha studiato e si è formato, a un certo punto della sua vita si trasferisce su quella est, a New York (Brooklyn), sembrerebbe per ragioni sentimentali: conosce una donna, nasce una storia, si sposano, nascono due figlie.
Il personaggio principale, l’Adrian Tomine dei disegni, sembra oscillare tra Woody Allen e Nanni Moretti: non nasconde, anzi sbandiera la sua fragilità, l’insicurezza, la timidezza, la paura del giudizio altrui, il senso d’inadeguatezza e d’inferiorità, la sensazione d’essere sempre estraneo e fuori posto. Tra episodi buffi e malinconici, il personaggio si rivela maniacale, ossessivo e ossessionante, dedito a un divertente piangersi addosso.
Tra tutte le gag la mia preferita è quella sul suo nome che tutti pronunciano in modo diverso e rigorosamente sbagliato, e lui, Tomine, che azzarda a correggerli, “veramente si dice Tom…” senza però mai concludere la frase perché l’interlocutore lo sta già ignorando o sommergendo d’altre chiacchiere.
P.S.
“Il più famoso giocatore di badminton” è come Daniel Clowes descrive il massimo livello di notorietà accessibile per un autore di fumetti e/o graphic novel.
Il titolo originale, The Loneliness of the Long-distance Cartoonist gioca con quello di un racconto di Alan Sillitoe, capofila degli Angry Young Men inglesi, da cui poi un film che ha in qualche modo fatto storia, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (che in Italia diventò Gioventù amore e rabbia), diretto da Tony Richardson, primo marito di Vanessa Redgrave, pellicola pura espressione del cosiddetto Free Cinema, la New Wave britannica emersa a metà degli anni Cinquanta, di cui Richardson fu uno dei nomi più importanti.
Quanto di più lontano da supereroi, galassie sconosciute, mostri & Co., con un disegno semplice, essenziale, pulito, anche ingenuo, quasi infantile, pagine a quadretti scandite da sei vignette tutte in bianco e nero, ricorda più le classiche strisce anni Cinquanta e/o Sessanta. Viene molto in mente Charlie Brown per il costante abbacchiato rimuginare del protagonista, la depressione strisciante, i mugugni: se non che qui i personaggi sono adulti, mentre nei Peanuts gli adulti sono fuori campo, mai inquadrati. E quindi, ecco, si potrebbe dire la versione adulta dei Peanuts, con meno personaggi e un protagonista assoluto.
Il fumettista del titolo è proprio lo stesso Adrian Tomine che qui racconta in brevi capitoli appunti di viaggi legati alla sua professione: presentazioni, comics convention, interviste, incontri con colleghi e lettori…
Ogni capitolo fa avanzare il calendario di un anno, e ogni capitolo indica anche il luogo dove si svolge.
Così si apprende che Tomine dalla costa ovest, dove è nato, ha studiato e si è formato, a un certo punto della sua vita si trasferisce su quella est, a New York (Brooklyn), sembrerebbe per ragioni sentimentali: conosce una donna, nasce una storia, si sposano, nascono due figlie.
Il personaggio principale, l’Adrian Tomine dei disegni, sembra oscillare tra Woody Allen e Nanni Moretti: non nasconde, anzi sbandiera la sua fragilità, l’insicurezza, la timidezza, la paura del giudizio altrui, il senso d’inadeguatezza e d’inferiorità, la sensazione d’essere sempre estraneo e fuori posto. Tra episodi buffi e malinconici, il personaggio si rivela maniacale, ossessivo e ossessionante, dedito a un divertente piangersi addosso.
Tra tutte le gag la mia preferita è quella sul suo nome che tutti pronunciano in modo diverso e rigorosamente sbagliato, e lui, Tomine, che azzarda a correggerli, “veramente si dice Tom…” senza però mai concludere la frase perché l’interlocutore lo sta già ignorando o sommergendo d’altre chiacchiere.
P.S.
“Il più famoso giocatore di badminton” è come Daniel Clowes descrive il massimo livello di notorietà accessibile per un autore di fumetti e/o graphic novel.
May 30, 2023
American-Japanese cartoonist / comic book creator Adrian Tomine wanted to be a cartoonist from around the age of two, and spent significant amount of his time pursuing and reaching that goal, leading to an outlier insular existence at a long-distance from the mainstream; in this, his memoir, we get insight into his life as seen through the lens of mostly the most awkward, insular self deprecating moments!
What surprised me about this work is just how funny I found it. I also feel it talks about the loneliness and introspection of creatives. There's only a single specific reference to his Japanese heritage, but it's very powerful. Memoirs continue to be one of the best genres for Graphic novels interpretation and this is another highlight in that space.
2023 read
What surprised me about this work is just how funny I found it. I also feel it talks about the loneliness and introspection of creatives. There's only a single specific reference to his Japanese heritage, but it's very powerful. Memoirs continue to be one of the best genres for Graphic novels interpretation and this is another highlight in that space.
2023 read
August 5, 2023
"That's like being the most famous badminton player"--Daniel Clowes, on being one of the world's best cartoonists
I am not sure if you just picked this up and had never read anything by Adrian Tomine that you would get why I rate this five stars and think it is one of my fave books of the year. He's not for everyone, an anxious, sometimes grumpy guy who has been drawing comics since he was a child. By his own lights he admits he can be a bit of an asshole. But in this book he shares anecdotes from his life as a cartoonist, focusing on the self-deprecating, and what everyone everywhere seems to call "cringe-worthy" moments of his life as recorded in his moleskin notebooks, reproduced to look very much like one here. Sweet, Drawn & Quarterly!
The drawing is amazing, as always, whether you "like" him or not. He's an amazing artist, who is above all honest and often sweetly funny in his honesty. He writes about small showings for book signings, a guy sleeping in the corner as he conducts a slide show. Aa admirer who works in a pizza place sends over a specialty pizza for him and the family--cool!--but then charges him for it. He's lonely a lot of the time because the work of being a cartoonist is isolated, but he's also not easy to get to know. But any budding or yes, "long distant" (as in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner by Alan Sillitoe) artist can feel him here as someone just working obsessively all the time, largely unappreciated for most of his career, and you know, being a cartoonist as Clowes makes clear is not the most glamorous or "admirable" thing to be doing, maybe (though Tomine has won awards and is very familiar to New Yorker readers, among others).
Early on he was brooding loner guy (Summer Blonde) and now he is married, with two sweet kids and a very understanding and supportive wife, so if this goes anywhere at all besides humor and fellow commiseration it is to give shout-outs to his wife and kids. I, a long time Tomine fan, loved the intimacy and humor of it.
You want to see some of it? There's some here in Alex Hoffman's review:
https://solrad.co/a-beautiful-life-de...
I am not sure if you just picked this up and had never read anything by Adrian Tomine that you would get why I rate this five stars and think it is one of my fave books of the year. He's not for everyone, an anxious, sometimes grumpy guy who has been drawing comics since he was a child. By his own lights he admits he can be a bit of an asshole. But in this book he shares anecdotes from his life as a cartoonist, focusing on the self-deprecating, and what everyone everywhere seems to call "cringe-worthy" moments of his life as recorded in his moleskin notebooks, reproduced to look very much like one here. Sweet, Drawn & Quarterly!
The drawing is amazing, as always, whether you "like" him or not. He's an amazing artist, who is above all honest and often sweetly funny in his honesty. He writes about small showings for book signings, a guy sleeping in the corner as he conducts a slide show. Aa admirer who works in a pizza place sends over a specialty pizza for him and the family--cool!--but then charges him for it. He's lonely a lot of the time because the work of being a cartoonist is isolated, but he's also not easy to get to know. But any budding or yes, "long distant" (as in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner by Alan Sillitoe) artist can feel him here as someone just working obsessively all the time, largely unappreciated for most of his career, and you know, being a cartoonist as Clowes makes clear is not the most glamorous or "admirable" thing to be doing, maybe (though Tomine has won awards and is very familiar to New Yorker readers, among others).
Early on he was brooding loner guy (Summer Blonde) and now he is married, with two sweet kids and a very understanding and supportive wife, so if this goes anywhere at all besides humor and fellow commiseration it is to give shout-outs to his wife and kids. I, a long time Tomine fan, loved the intimacy and humor of it.
You want to see some of it? There's some here in Alex Hoffman's review:
https://solrad.co/a-beautiful-life-de...
September 4, 2020
The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist is a collection of amusing, self-effacing autobiographical vignettes from Adrian Tomine’s career promoting his work at comics conventions, literary festivals, and so on, as well as the general public’s perceptions of his books. And it’s really good - I enjoyed it a lot!
The book is designed to look like a real Moleskine notebook, which is what Tomine originally drew these comics in, and it’s a really cool touch - it’s complete with the same interior layouts, bookmark, elastic marker, etc. you’d see in a Moleskine book (though the spine is quite flimsy).
It opens with a quote from Daniel Clowes on being one of the most famous cartoonists: “That’s like being the most famous badminton player”, which is a comment I’ve heard before from another cartoonist, Alex Robinson, who (when he is recognised, which is rarely, he’s mistaken for famed Marvel/DC artist Alex Ross) said on his podcast Ink Panthers “That’s like being called one of the most famous puppeteers in America!”.
And that amusing observation sets the tone for the book which shows that, despite being a famous indie cartoonist, the reality is that he’s basically a non-celebrity and practically nobody could care less about him or his work (or learning to pronounce his name correctly, most prominently by Frank Miller at San Diego Comic-Con!).
I liked almost all of the stories here. In particular the embarrassing book tour he took with Seth in the late ‘90s; finding out he was lactose intolerant after being interviewed by a cute woman he then tried to impress after consuming large amounts of dairy; and his one-sided rivalry with Neil Gaiman, whose signings continually eclipse his, particularly on the first time he met his future wife and mother of his kids, Sarah. There’s a lot more but I’m not gonna list them here - it would’ve been great though if some of the names ragging on Tomine hadn’t been redacted but I understand why they were, that’s just the eager gossip in me being nosy!
I get the impression Tomine is a bit oversensitive at times. I mean, sure, I understand that sparse book signings, etc. can be embarrassing but he’s still a very accomplished author who gets to do what he loves for a living and have experiences (for better or worse, but that’s always the deal) none of us will ever have, and I’m sure a lot of his fans are scattered across the world (like me!) who can’t make it to local NY gatherings or conventions, so it’s not representative of his level of success.
But I also feel like I understand where that sensitivity comes from in some of these anecdotes like the French literary festival that announces he’s won an award for Killing and Dying (also a great book worth checking out if you haven’t already) and then telling everyone it’s a joke before announcing the real winner (who fucking does that??). Or the random encounter of being seated next to a couple who don’t recognise him and go full on critiquing his book Summer Blonde, or being recognised by a waiter at a restaurant, being sent a dessert (nutella pizza - which he can’t eat because he’s allergic to nuts) and then getting charged for it!
The book ends on a poignant note when he’s admitted into hospital in 2018 after suffering chest pains and, in the wee hours, he writes a heartfelt letter to his young daughters thinking he might possibly perish from a heart attack imminently.
I felt that it was kinda repetitive and predictable at times in a Charlie Brown-sorta way, and part of me wonders if he isn’t playing up some of the stories for yuks, but generally I had a great time reading this. If there’s anyone out there (and I can’t imagine there is) who thinks the path to global fame is producing great indie comics (or anything book-related, with few exceptions), The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist will entertainingly and humorously dissuade you otherwise!
The book is designed to look like a real Moleskine notebook, which is what Tomine originally drew these comics in, and it’s a really cool touch - it’s complete with the same interior layouts, bookmark, elastic marker, etc. you’d see in a Moleskine book (though the spine is quite flimsy).
It opens with a quote from Daniel Clowes on being one of the most famous cartoonists: “That’s like being the most famous badminton player”, which is a comment I’ve heard before from another cartoonist, Alex Robinson, who (when he is recognised, which is rarely, he’s mistaken for famed Marvel/DC artist Alex Ross) said on his podcast Ink Panthers “That’s like being called one of the most famous puppeteers in America!”.
And that amusing observation sets the tone for the book which shows that, despite being a famous indie cartoonist, the reality is that he’s basically a non-celebrity and practically nobody could care less about him or his work (or learning to pronounce his name correctly, most prominently by Frank Miller at San Diego Comic-Con!).
I liked almost all of the stories here. In particular the embarrassing book tour he took with Seth in the late ‘90s; finding out he was lactose intolerant after being interviewed by a cute woman he then tried to impress after consuming large amounts of dairy; and his one-sided rivalry with Neil Gaiman, whose signings continually eclipse his, particularly on the first time he met his future wife and mother of his kids, Sarah. There’s a lot more but I’m not gonna list them here - it would’ve been great though if some of the names ragging on Tomine hadn’t been redacted but I understand why they were, that’s just the eager gossip in me being nosy!
I get the impression Tomine is a bit oversensitive at times. I mean, sure, I understand that sparse book signings, etc. can be embarrassing but he’s still a very accomplished author who gets to do what he loves for a living and have experiences (for better or worse, but that’s always the deal) none of us will ever have, and I’m sure a lot of his fans are scattered across the world (like me!) who can’t make it to local NY gatherings or conventions, so it’s not representative of his level of success.
But I also feel like I understand where that sensitivity comes from in some of these anecdotes like the French literary festival that announces he’s won an award for Killing and Dying (also a great book worth checking out if you haven’t already) and then telling everyone it’s a joke before announcing the real winner (who fucking does that??). Or the random encounter of being seated next to a couple who don’t recognise him and go full on critiquing his book Summer Blonde, or being recognised by a waiter at a restaurant, being sent a dessert (nutella pizza - which he can’t eat because he’s allergic to nuts) and then getting charged for it!
The book ends on a poignant note when he’s admitted into hospital in 2018 after suffering chest pains and, in the wee hours, he writes a heartfelt letter to his young daughters thinking he might possibly perish from a heart attack imminently.
I felt that it was kinda repetitive and predictable at times in a Charlie Brown-sorta way, and part of me wonders if he isn’t playing up some of the stories for yuks, but generally I had a great time reading this. If there’s anyone out there (and I can’t imagine there is) who thinks the path to global fame is producing great indie comics (or anything book-related, with few exceptions), The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist will entertainingly and humorously dissuade you otherwise!
July 3, 2021
The only Adrian Tomine book I've read so far, Killing and Dying: Stories, ultimately didn't leave a huge impression on me despite my initially positive thoughts (and four-star review). Still, I wanted to read The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist for two reasons: (1) it's a memoir of a creative life, something I'm always interested in; and (2) the book's design: it looks like a Moleskine notebook, complete with ribbon bookmark and that elastic band that goes around the closed book. Clever AND beautiful.
As for the book itself, I thought it was great. It goes year by year, beginning with the year when Tomine first told his junior-high classmates he wanted to be a cartoonist, and . . . to put it bluntly, it's all about his most humiliating moments in his career. Sure, Tomine is extremely successful, but he has a way of hanging onto the worst experiences that I totally related to. In that sense this book was cathartic. It was also funny and compelling, and the art was as beautiful as I remember from Killing and Dying. It got a bit sentimental at the end, but, given everything that came before, I thought the book earned that, and it didn't spoil my overall enjoyment and appreciation for this memoir. I wonder if Tomine has enough embarrassing experiences for another volume, because I want more of this!
As for the book itself, I thought it was great. It goes year by year, beginning with the year when Tomine first told his junior-high classmates he wanted to be a cartoonist, and . . . to put it bluntly, it's all about his most humiliating moments in his career. Sure, Tomine is extremely successful, but he has a way of hanging onto the worst experiences that I totally related to. In that sense this book was cathartic. It was also funny and compelling, and the art was as beautiful as I remember from Killing and Dying. It got a bit sentimental at the end, but, given everything that came before, I thought the book earned that, and it didn't spoil my overall enjoyment and appreciation for this memoir. I wonder if Tomine has enough embarrassing experiences for another volume, because I want more of this!
February 25, 2021
The works of the patient master Adrian Tomine are always worth the wait.
His autobiographical The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist may not be as powerful as a Summer Blonde or as perfectly crafted Shortcomings, but it is refreshing to see the artist finally enter the comics tradition of talking about himself.
This book is certainly funny. Preluding in 1982 (kind of a synchronicity for me) he recounts the years starting young as a bullied geeky comic fan. But the story really starts with a visit to the San Diego Comic Con in the 90s as the young man prepares for a life of success in the alternative scene--which is to say, not really that much success--and immediately finds it as awkward as that terribly familiar childhood.
A recurring theme is his difficulty in going out to public events to promote his books. To be honest, it seems Tomine hasn't had a very impactful life otherwise. Or, at least, this is the angle he has chosen with which to share himself with the world. That is okay, and definitely interesting, just don't expect deep dives into his family life and personal relationships, or really any adventures of any kind.
It is rather hilarious; these tales of trying to date journalists and striking out, of dealing with a stalker, of struggling to do a gruesome NPR interview, the awards shows, book signings, and other interactions as a very minor celebrity. Think Curb Your Enthusiasm for the terminally shy Asian-artsy type.
Once Tomine marries and has kids about halfway through, the flash vignettes are still more comedic than deep, but there is a stronger resonation. The final story, dated 2018, concerns a health scare which does expose some some real emotional vulnerability...
The art is an evolution for Adrian Tomine. The lines are a bit more sketchy than controlled compared to earlier works, with simple six-panel layouts and all experimentally published on graph paper with the blue squares showing, and yet there is an enormous confidence in embracing this style. At this stage in his life, there's no need for pretension, and the exact amount of detail necessary is all that's needed.
He shares all that's worth sharing, and it reads well, crafted as only an experienced graphic novelist master could pull off.
His autobiographical The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist may not be as powerful as a Summer Blonde or as perfectly crafted Shortcomings, but it is refreshing to see the artist finally enter the comics tradition of talking about himself.
This book is certainly funny. Preluding in 1982 (kind of a synchronicity for me) he recounts the years starting young as a bullied geeky comic fan. But the story really starts with a visit to the San Diego Comic Con in the 90s as the young man prepares for a life of success in the alternative scene--which is to say, not really that much success--and immediately finds it as awkward as that terribly familiar childhood.
A recurring theme is his difficulty in going out to public events to promote his books. To be honest, it seems Tomine hasn't had a very impactful life otherwise. Or, at least, this is the angle he has chosen with which to share himself with the world. That is okay, and definitely interesting, just don't expect deep dives into his family life and personal relationships, or really any adventures of any kind.
It is rather hilarious; these tales of trying to date journalists and striking out, of dealing with a stalker, of struggling to do a gruesome NPR interview, the awards shows, book signings, and other interactions as a very minor celebrity. Think Curb Your Enthusiasm for the terminally shy Asian-artsy type.
Once Tomine marries and has kids about halfway through, the flash vignettes are still more comedic than deep, but there is a stronger resonation. The final story, dated 2018, concerns a health scare which does expose some some real emotional vulnerability...
The art is an evolution for Adrian Tomine. The lines are a bit more sketchy than controlled compared to earlier works, with simple six-panel layouts and all experimentally published on graph paper with the blue squares showing, and yet there is an enormous confidence in embracing this style. At this stage in his life, there's no need for pretension, and the exact amount of detail necessary is all that's needed.
He shares all that's worth sharing, and it reads well, crafted as only an experienced graphic novelist master could pull off.
March 9, 2025
Somewhere in the middle of this loosely drawn, pencil-shined sketches, sits an instance in which Adrian Tomine, a fair figure in the cartoon industry, is at a book fair in Tokyo and is about to scribble, in palpable excitement, his first autograph of the day when he notices the book slipped under his fingers carrying the name – Daniel Clowes. Err.. he protests, awkwardly, then a little insistently, and then, earnestly by offering his book and saying – "Uh… This is my book. I can sign this for you." But to no avail. The reader, of Japanese origin, doesn’t understand the confusion and the usher dispatches that he must sign because well,… the reader is requesting for it!
This memoir from the reputed cartoonist and illustrator came and disarmed me. It said – across black-and-white panels with mini squares stuck crisscross across them, carrying the bespectacled Tomine and his life’s (in) significant and significant others – here, look at me; I am not putting up a show. You shall get neither magic here nor its remaining dust from a decade back. I am tired and feeling insipid, and experiencing doubts, and I thought this is my best way to deal with them all. Someone published it (or may be I did?) but I don’t remember. You too are free to forget what you read here.
With no objective to align my days with his’, I slid into the panels to have a look at Tomine’s life; his formative years - gliding on curiosity and shriveling on abandonment, his youth – chasing creative possibilities and avoiding social conventions, his love – embracing without mask and pondering within dark, his later years – balancing family and questioning recognition. His candor, delivered with generous dollops of humor, shone the most. In a self-effacing, nonchalant manner, he narrates the ups and downs of a life well-lived, emphasizing the vital point of success not being a pre-requisite for happiness. Sometimes, its our little slips and blurts, our goof-ups and tomfoolery that land us in states of learning, friendship, peace and even love.
The minimalist vein that runs through all the illustrations that dot this book, imparting a quiet current to his life, sings to me. Like him, perhaps, I too have remained at a place where the deepest human connections have been forged in the most featherlight manner as no burdens of pretentions have bogged down their formation or growth.
Read this one for the art, for the laugh, for the lessons, for the journey.
This memoir from the reputed cartoonist and illustrator came and disarmed me. It said – across black-and-white panels with mini squares stuck crisscross across them, carrying the bespectacled Tomine and his life’s (in) significant and significant others – here, look at me; I am not putting up a show. You shall get neither magic here nor its remaining dust from a decade back. I am tired and feeling insipid, and experiencing doubts, and I thought this is my best way to deal with them all. Someone published it (or may be I did?) but I don’t remember. You too are free to forget what you read here.
With no objective to align my days with his’, I slid into the panels to have a look at Tomine’s life; his formative years - gliding on curiosity and shriveling on abandonment, his youth – chasing creative possibilities and avoiding social conventions, his love – embracing without mask and pondering within dark, his later years – balancing family and questioning recognition. His candor, delivered with generous dollops of humor, shone the most. In a self-effacing, nonchalant manner, he narrates the ups and downs of a life well-lived, emphasizing the vital point of success not being a pre-requisite for happiness. Sometimes, its our little slips and blurts, our goof-ups and tomfoolery that land us in states of learning, friendship, peace and even love.
The minimalist vein that runs through all the illustrations that dot this book, imparting a quiet current to his life, sings to me. Like him, perhaps, I too have remained at a place where the deepest human connections have been forged in the most featherlight manner as no burdens of pretentions have bogged down their formation or growth.
Read this one for the art, for the laugh, for the lessons, for the journey.
November 5, 2020
Quienes me siguen saben perfectamente que considero a Adrian Tomine un genio de la novela gráfica y que tengo una debilidad especial por los cómics con contenido autobiográfico... por lo que no debe ser una gran sorpresa para nadie que ‘La soledad del dibujante’ me haya maravillado.
Después de profundizar sobre lo raro, lo incómodo y lo contradictorio en las vidas ajenas, Tomine decide poner el foco sobre lo raro, lo incómodo y lo contradictorio de su propia vida. Así, nos lleva a un viaje que va desde el principio de su carrera hasta nuestros días, en el que reflexiona sobre las profesiones artísticas, sobre el ascenso a la fama, sobre la sensación de no ser nunca suficiente, sobre el ego, sobre el síndrome del impostor y sobre el miedo al fracaso. Y lo hace desde una perspectiva ya famosa en su obra, que intenta añadir algo de luz a la oscuridad mediante el uso de un humor sarcástico que encuentra su fuente de alimentación en la cotidianidad, y que no tiene miedo a exponerse como frágil, inseguro y en constante proceso de tratar de ser mejor persona y profesional.
‘La soledad del dibujante’ es un retrato íntimo que humaniza a una de las grandes figuras del cómic de nuestro tiempo, que aunque en nuestros ojos sea un genio en los suyos propios sigue siendo aquel pardillo que soñaba con poder dedicarse a dibujar historietas.
Después de profundizar sobre lo raro, lo incómodo y lo contradictorio en las vidas ajenas, Tomine decide poner el foco sobre lo raro, lo incómodo y lo contradictorio de su propia vida. Así, nos lleva a un viaje que va desde el principio de su carrera hasta nuestros días, en el que reflexiona sobre las profesiones artísticas, sobre el ascenso a la fama, sobre la sensación de no ser nunca suficiente, sobre el ego, sobre el síndrome del impostor y sobre el miedo al fracaso. Y lo hace desde una perspectiva ya famosa en su obra, que intenta añadir algo de luz a la oscuridad mediante el uso de un humor sarcástico que encuentra su fuente de alimentación en la cotidianidad, y que no tiene miedo a exponerse como frágil, inseguro y en constante proceso de tratar de ser mejor persona y profesional.
‘La soledad del dibujante’ es un retrato íntimo que humaniza a una de las grandes figuras del cómic de nuestro tiempo, que aunque en nuestros ojos sea un genio en los suyos propios sigue siendo aquel pardillo que soñaba con poder dedicarse a dibujar historietas.
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October 30, 2023Usamljenost crtača na duge staze je u celini nešto mekši i popustljiviji prema svom protagonisti od Nedostataka, što je ipak razumljivo jer je u pitanju autobiografski grafički roman :) Tomine ovde duhovito i iskreno piše/crta o svom životnom putu. Istovremeno je izuzetno smešno i umirete od transfera blama: u suštini, Tomine svoj život ovde prikazuje (a nadajmo se da ga ipak ne vidi tako) kao beskrajni niz onih sitnih, svakodnevnih, groznih situacija kad u sebi vapite "zemljo, otvori se" a zemlja neće. Počev od malog Adrijana koji sve potencijalne školske drugove rasteruje pričom o stripu, preko usamljenog mladog Adrijana koji totalno ne ume ljude, pa do sredovečnog Adrijana koji je ipak savladao neke osnovne međuljudske veštine (i ajmo reći uspeo u životu) ali i dalje se dosta muči. Svako ko je ikad patio od anksioznosti, osećao se kao uljez i prevarant u svojoj struci ili je naprosto ispao glup u društvu - prepoznaće se u ovom nizu anegdota. A opet, Tomine uspeva da to izvede tako da se celina ne svodi na nizanje anegdota već predstavlja i priču o istinskom sazrevanju i nalaženju svog mesta u svemiru. I to je okej i tako treba da bude.
August 5, 2020
Tomine offers a look inside his head, sharing his anxieties and documenting the "embarrassing gaffes, the small humiliations, the perceived insults" of being a professional cartoonist and low-level celebrity. The navel gazing is mostly humorous and self-deprecating, and to get outside his head once in a while, he offers a few cameos of celebrities from the comic book industry and lots of anecdotes from conventions, book tours, and signings.
Its an amusing trifle, but I have to say the decision to reproduce it as the grid-pattern journal in which he apparently drew it annoyed me. The little blue squares on every page constantly drew my eye away from the art or left me spending too much time judging how crooked his panel lines were when they didn't cover the blue lines perfectly. I occasionally started looking too close and found the text difficult to read if each line did not run exactly through a line of squares. It's all unnecessarily distracting.
Its an amusing trifle, but I have to say the decision to reproduce it as the grid-pattern journal in which he apparently drew it annoyed me. The little blue squares on every page constantly drew my eye away from the art or left me spending too much time judging how crooked his panel lines were when they didn't cover the blue lines perfectly. I occasionally started looking too close and found the text difficult to read if each line did not run exactly through a line of squares. It's all unnecessarily distracting.
August 24, 2020
I've only read one of Tomine's other works, and found both introspective and indulgent. I definitely relate to Tomine's countless anxieties, but it was kind of tedious to read and made me like him less as a person. There are so many sections where he came off as the asshole, and I was like, did you take anything away from this?
October 28, 2020
I start almost every memoir review with the same kind of note, that in a memoir I am looking for whether the author actually has a strong grasp of the experiences they're presenting, whether they've fully processed them, whether they get what the story is. Much of this graphic memoir has clearly been stirring in Tomine's head for decades and he is unflinching at his willingness to show us many small moments of shame, embarrassment, and assholery. There is never a question of whether he has thought this all out, instead it's quite clear that it's much of what he's thought about for his entire adult life. For a while maybe you worry that this whole book will be a catalog of Tomine being embarrassed, being the subject of many a racist microaggression, being lonely. But it has a great arc where we end with the moment that he changes his own inner narrative.
If you are a reader and you still think that being an author is glamorous, this book will very happily disabuse you of that notion. One scene, where Tomine and his wife end up sitting at a table too close to another table where the other couple is *talking about his book* and not only that but the girl gave it to the guy to read and he basically shits all over the book and her at high volume, I have never been more embarrassed and frustrated by proxy than I was on those pages, makes me sweat just thinking about it. It is a long collection of little moments like this, even as we see Tomine's career advance, moving from very small events to larger ones, going from new industry wunderkind to a guy people assume has nothing left to say they haven't heard before, it doesn't make his feelings about himself or his work feel magically better.
There is also a lot here about the identity artists build for themselves, what it means and how it's constructed, that is much more self-effacing than usual. Tomine is never trying to make himself look all that good or authoritative.
I feel like I have been reading Tomine for ages, but according to Goodreads I only started with SHORTCOMINGS 5 years ago so my brain has just imposed my affection for his work off back into the past when I started reading graphic novels in the mid-aughts. It's a weird brain trick but my brain also recognizes Tomine as fitting in that space of really interesting work and the excitement of discovery I felt for it back then, and I think that's deserved.
If you are a reader and you still think that being an author is glamorous, this book will very happily disabuse you of that notion. One scene, where Tomine and his wife end up sitting at a table too close to another table where the other couple is *talking about his book* and not only that but the girl gave it to the guy to read and he basically shits all over the book and her at high volume, I have never been more embarrassed and frustrated by proxy than I was on those pages, makes me sweat just thinking about it. It is a long collection of little moments like this, even as we see Tomine's career advance, moving from very small events to larger ones, going from new industry wunderkind to a guy people assume has nothing left to say they haven't heard before, it doesn't make his feelings about himself or his work feel magically better.
There is also a lot here about the identity artists build for themselves, what it means and how it's constructed, that is much more self-effacing than usual. Tomine is never trying to make himself look all that good or authoritative.
I feel like I have been reading Tomine for ages, but according to Goodreads I only started with SHORTCOMINGS 5 years ago so my brain has just imposed my affection for his work off back into the past when I started reading graphic novels in the mid-aughts. It's a weird brain trick but my brain also recognizes Tomine as fitting in that space of really interesting work and the excitement of discovery I felt for it back then, and I think that's deserved.
April 30, 2021
4 to 4 1/2 stars
December 23, 2020
This is the fourth graphic novel (memoir in this case) that I've read by the author, and I always expect I'll love his work more than I do. I want to love his work, but for some reason they just don't gel with me.
This graphic memoir had quite a bit of navel gazing - too much for me. I like his illustration style and the stark black and white panels, and I really appreciated his honesty and willingness to let us see his anxieties and the mundane, and sometimes funny, life of a kid who loves to draw and now does that for a living. The thing that I loved was the actual physical book - that it looked just like the Moleskine that the author actually does his drawings in.
I read this a couple of weeks ago and not much has remained with me, but if you are a fan of the author, this would give you insight into his life and struggles. Would also work YA readers who are interested in comics.
This graphic memoir had quite a bit of navel gazing - too much for me. I like his illustration style and the stark black and white panels, and I really appreciated his honesty and willingness to let us see his anxieties and the mundane, and sometimes funny, life of a kid who loves to draw and now does that for a living. The thing that I loved was the actual physical book - that it looked just like the Moleskine that the author actually does his drawings in.
I read this a couple of weeks ago and not much has remained with me, but if you are a fan of the author, this would give you insight into his life and struggles. Would also work YA readers who are interested in comics.
September 22, 2020
Very funny, not for the cringe-averse. The book is beautifully produced. Ends on a real moving story.
August 3, 2020
Tomine abbandona i suoi consueti personaggi e con china nera a punta sottile su carta a quadretti blu ci racconta di sé.
Auto-strip-fiction?
Una cosa del genere.
Esce dalla sua comfort zone, anzi la zona è ancora meno confortevole trattandosi né più né meno che di una minimale epopea farsesca, fatta di disavventure imbarazzanti, gaffes, lamentele e umiliazioni da complesso di inferiorità artistica, molto comic-nerd, molto familiare ("ah... la mia gente!"), fin quando non arrivano due bambine e scombinano tutto, già... familiare anche questo.
Sembra Dan Clowes, più volte nominato e anche ritratto, tanto è impietoso e divertente nel mostrarsi perdente in ogni situazione, solo che Clowes è un perfido bastardo, Tomine è pur sempre un bravo ragazzo, naïf come la sua linea chiara, e noi fan gli vogliamo bene per questo.
Auto-strip-fiction?
Una cosa del genere.
Esce dalla sua comfort zone, anzi la zona è ancora meno confortevole trattandosi né più né meno che di una minimale epopea farsesca, fatta di disavventure imbarazzanti, gaffes, lamentele e umiliazioni da complesso di inferiorità artistica, molto comic-nerd, molto familiare ("ah... la mia gente!"), fin quando non arrivano due bambine e scombinano tutto, già... familiare anche questo.
Sembra Dan Clowes, più volte nominato e anche ritratto, tanto è impietoso e divertente nel mostrarsi perdente in ogni situazione, solo che Clowes è un perfido bastardo, Tomine è pur sempre un bravo ragazzo, naïf come la sua linea chiara, e noi fan gli vogliamo bene per questo.
March 16, 2021
O sweet Jesus, this book is so hilariously, mortifyingly funny, any cartoonist will appreciate the sometimes horribly embarrassing situations Tomine describes here. His revealing all of this really personal, uncomfortable stuff betrays a high level of self-awareness that I'm sort of in awe of, plus his cartooning is masterclass level throughout. What more could you ask for?
October 28, 2023
Evo jednog noviteta sa sajma. Prvo što sam pročitao od ovogodišnjeg plena je grafički roman Adrijana Tominea - Usamljenost crtača na duge staze.
U pitanju je fragmentarni roman koji obuhvata ogroman raspon, od početka crtačke karijere, tačnije momenta samosvesti kada crtač postane svestan svog usuda, pa sve do trenutaka razvoja, poznanstava i mnogobrojnih neprijatnih situacija, gotovo do sadašnjeg trenutka i pronalaženja inspiracije za stvaranje ovog dela, detaljnog svođenja dela autora u strip.
Uz vrlo dobru autorioniju, svesnost o nedaćama tela, nervozna creva, ego, mišljenje o svom delu i upornost i verovanje da to što činimo ima nekog smisla, ovaj roman nas na vrlo lep način, brzo provede kroz ključne tačke razvijanja jednog umetnika.
Nepretenciozno, bez velikih tema, sa dosta samospoznajnih elemenata, u stilu velikog melanholičnog Seta koji se pojavljuje u jednom trenutku, ovaj će crtež možda poslužiti kao dobar poklon našim ekstrovertnim prijateljima. Malim porazima osvojiće delić buduće slobode.
Objasniću. Dakle, mnogi nas neće razumeti, našu potrebu za mirom, za komunikacijom koja samo nama odgovara, za izbegavanjem malih, nevažnih razgovora, volećemo da se naše delo razlaže, da se o njemu govori sa više aspekata, ali dobićemo samo mrvice toga, bićemo pogrešno shvaćeni i pogrešno ćemo shvatati, uglavnom naše će koketiranje sa svetom na kraju ispasti samo jedna uljudno odbijanje i neprijatnost, epizoda našeg života koju ćemo rado hteti da zaboravimo, a nju ćemo naći u ovom stripu. Smejaćemo se sebi.
Prijatelji će introvertne možda bolje razumeti ako pročitaju ovo more iskrenosti.
U pitanju je fragmentarni roman koji obuhvata ogroman raspon, od početka crtačke karijere, tačnije momenta samosvesti kada crtač postane svestan svog usuda, pa sve do trenutaka razvoja, poznanstava i mnogobrojnih neprijatnih situacija, gotovo do sadašnjeg trenutka i pronalaženja inspiracije za stvaranje ovog dela, detaljnog svođenja dela autora u strip.
Uz vrlo dobru autorioniju, svesnost o nedaćama tela, nervozna creva, ego, mišljenje o svom delu i upornost i verovanje da to što činimo ima nekog smisla, ovaj roman nas na vrlo lep način, brzo provede kroz ključne tačke razvijanja jednog umetnika.
Nepretenciozno, bez velikih tema, sa dosta samospoznajnih elemenata, u stilu velikog melanholičnog Seta koji se pojavljuje u jednom trenutku, ovaj će crtež možda poslužiti kao dobar poklon našim ekstrovertnim prijateljima. Malim porazima osvojiće delić buduće slobode.
Objasniću. Dakle, mnogi nas neće razumeti, našu potrebu za mirom, za komunikacijom koja samo nama odgovara, za izbegavanjem malih, nevažnih razgovora, volećemo da se naše delo razlaže, da se o njemu govori sa više aspekata, ali dobićemo samo mrvice toga, bićemo pogrešno shvaćeni i pogrešno ćemo shvatati, uglavnom naše će koketiranje sa svetom na kraju ispasti samo jedna uljudno odbijanje i neprijatnost, epizoda našeg života koju ćemo rado hteti da zaboravimo, a nju ćemo naći u ovom stripu. Smejaćemo se sebi.
Prijatelji će introvertne možda bolje razumeti ako pročitaju ovo more iskrenosti.
November 5, 2021
The ending of this book totally made it for me.
I've read a lot of autobio comics. I love them, as a rule. But autobio graphic novels are -- inevitably, definitionally -- written almost exclusively by cartoonists. And, like most or many professions, a fair number of cartoonists have similar day-to-day concerns.
So some of the stories Tomine tells - some of the anecdotes in this book - feel extremely familiar.
One thing that influences my perspective of this work is that cartooning (in the United States), like most industries, has been dominated by White heterosexual cisgendered male humans over the last century. So, many times, these kinds of stories are told by privileged White people.
I make an effort to consume works created by people with marginalized perspectives, so while I do make exceptions to that preference when I'm reading adult comics frequently, it often feels a bit uncomfortable. When I read autobiographies, the demographics of the person are obvious. Often part of the story. So I feel a sense of discomfort when I'm reading something autobiographical, because when I do that, the schism between my reading priorities and my reading choices is the most glaring.
Tomine is not White. But the experiences he recounts here are mostly along the same lines as the stories I've read by and about White cartoonists. So something in my brain was triggered and I felt the same kind of discomfort as I describe above as I read most of the book.
But then we got to that ending. In the closing section, Tomine brings it all together. Talks about choosing a path, and balance, and passion, and priorities, and being really good at one thing. Big issues that affect most people who have choices in life.
I was a theatre major in college. Music major too, for a couple of years. It was a big pivotal mindfuck of a decision when I "left" the arts (you never really leave the arts) to become a Librarian. In a lot of ways I felt like I was settling for a smaller life. Obviously my feelings about that decision have changed and evolved over the years. But I really picked up what he was putting down when he started reflecting on how he got where he is.
I don't feel the need to comment on the illustrations here. Tomine has a brand, and this is that. Black and white throughout.
I love the design of the book itself, however. It's styled as a moleskin, complete with attached bookmark ribbon and elastic bookmark band. The inside pages have blue graph-paper-style lines.
Including it on my graphic-novel-travelogues shelf because of all the touring he depicts, even though he rarely covers the traveling nitty-gritty.
I've read a lot of autobio comics. I love them, as a rule. But autobio graphic novels are -- inevitably, definitionally -- written almost exclusively by cartoonists. And, like most or many professions, a fair number of cartoonists have similar day-to-day concerns.
So some of the stories Tomine tells - some of the anecdotes in this book - feel extremely familiar.
One thing that influences my perspective of this work is that cartooning (in the United States), like most industries, has been dominated by White heterosexual cisgendered male humans over the last century. So, many times, these kinds of stories are told by privileged White people.
I make an effort to consume works created by people with marginalized perspectives, so while I do make exceptions to that preference when I'm reading adult comics frequently, it often feels a bit uncomfortable. When I read autobiographies, the demographics of the person are obvious. Often part of the story. So I feel a sense of discomfort when I'm reading something autobiographical, because when I do that, the schism between my reading priorities and my reading choices is the most glaring.
Tomine is not White. But the experiences he recounts here are mostly along the same lines as the stories I've read by and about White cartoonists. So something in my brain was triggered and I felt the same kind of discomfort as I describe above as I read most of the book.
But then we got to that ending. In the closing section, Tomine brings it all together. Talks about choosing a path, and balance, and passion, and priorities, and being really good at one thing. Big issues that affect most people who have choices in life.
I was a theatre major in college. Music major too, for a couple of years. It was a big pivotal mindfuck of a decision when I "left" the arts (you never really leave the arts) to become a Librarian. In a lot of ways I felt like I was settling for a smaller life. Obviously my feelings about that decision have changed and evolved over the years. But I really picked up what he was putting down when he started reflecting on how he got where he is.
I don't feel the need to comment on the illustrations here. Tomine has a brand, and this is that. Black and white throughout.
I love the design of the book itself, however. It's styled as a moleskin, complete with attached bookmark ribbon and elastic bookmark band. The inside pages have blue graph-paper-style lines.
Including it on my graphic-novel-travelogues shelf because of all the touring he depicts, even though he rarely covers the traveling nitty-gritty.
July 18, 2020
Brimming with humour, pathos and comedic self degradation, Tomine’s memoir is shot through with a few running gags: the constant mispronunciation of his surname, being mistaken for or addressed as other famous cartoonists, and the gap between his celebrated public self and his inner turmoil.
Tomine uses a six panel format with raw ink drawings on blue grid paper to examine his origin story, his professional achievements/embarrassments, and what he learns along the way to being a husband, a father of two, and a popular illustrator. This format works brilliantly at weaving together his various experiences (from being on a strange “comics cruise” across the Pacific Ocean to a book signing in Tokyo) and illustrating the gaps between his hopeful expectations and the absurdity and strangeness of reality.
There is a persuasive charm to how he uses illustrations and compositions to convey meaning. For example, his emotional beats, with their wordless negative space, as well as overlapping thought and speech bubbles, articulate his interior life and his external reality in the same stroke. I couldn’t put this book down, and recommend it heartily.
Tomine uses a six panel format with raw ink drawings on blue grid paper to examine his origin story, his professional achievements/embarrassments, and what he learns along the way to being a husband, a father of two, and a popular illustrator. This format works brilliantly at weaving together his various experiences (from being on a strange “comics cruise” across the Pacific Ocean to a book signing in Tokyo) and illustrating the gaps between his hopeful expectations and the absurdity and strangeness of reality.
There is a persuasive charm to how he uses illustrations and compositions to convey meaning. For example, his emotional beats, with their wordless negative space, as well as overlapping thought and speech bubbles, articulate his interior life and his external reality in the same stroke. I couldn’t put this book down, and recommend it heartily.
July 26, 2020
candid, self-effacing, and equal parts hilarious and embarrassing, adrian tomine's the loneliness of the long-distance cartoonist is a graphic memoir recalling incidents and interactions from over twenty years of the acclaimed artist's career. episodic in its telling, tomine's newest book elicits both laughter and empathy. even atop the pinnacle of his industry, tomine is seemingly still plagued by the doubts, worries, and warped self-perceptions that afflict so many thoughtful, creative people. the loneliness of the long-distance cartoonist is honest and humane... and likely relatable for anyone who's laid awake at night endlessly recounting all of the stupid, cringe-worthy things they've ever said and done.
July 13, 2021
Адриан Томине — автор лучших диалогов в комиксах, что я видел. Также он человек ранимый, обидчивый, тревожный и амбициозный. Как это бывает, даже зная эти особенности своего характера, он всё равно ничего с собой поделать не может. И в своей последней книге с зарисовками о жизни и буднях комиксиста он принимает самое правильное решение — немного посмеяться над собой и своими жалкими, неловкими проблемами.
Книга, как обычно у Адриана, классная и довольно смешная. Она впрочем иной раз требует некоторой подкованности по части комиксов — н-р, понимания, кто такой Фрэнк Миллер и как обычно проходят встречи с авторами (в комиксшопах). Нарисовано тоже традиционно здорово, разве что я не на 100% уверен, что мне понравился приём с перманентной тетрадкой в клеточку (автор типа делал зарисовки о своей жизни в обычный блокнот).
Рекомендую в первую очередь опытным комикс-читателям. Вот небольшое превью.
Книга, как обычно у Адриана, классная и довольно смешная. Она впрочем иной раз требует некоторой подкованности по части комиксов — н-р, понимания, кто такой Фрэнк Миллер и как обычно проходят встречи с авторами (в комиксшопах). Нарисовано тоже традиционно здорово, разве что я не на 100% уверен, что мне понравился приём с перманентной тетрадкой в клеточку (автор типа делал зарисовки о своей жизни в обычный блокнот).
Рекомендую в первую очередь опытным комикс-читателям. Вот небольшое превью.
February 19, 2022
5⭐️ 100% because of how impactful the ending is to me on a very personal level. Its been a while since I’ve finished a book in one day. This is so hard to put down because I’ve been rooting for him from page one, all the bullying he went through, name callings, that shaped him who he is right now. No, he never gotten very famous, but his words and persistent journey pursuing his dreams definitely touched some hearts.
June 7, 2021
É difícil ler isso aqui sendo quadrinista, viu? Mas é legal pra pensar em coisas como vaidade e expectativas nesse indústria vital.
April 3, 2022
Encouraged by the very high ratings and praising reviews, I reached for "The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist" with high expectations. However, what I got instead was a rather annoying, sometimes tedious story of a man in emotional stagnation.
However, I'll address the positives first - I really appreciated the illustrations and the overall design of the book. Adrian Tomine's artwork is clean, clear, monochromatic and pleasing to the eye. In general, the whole idea that this is like a private notebook of the illustrator, created under the impulse of self-reflection is very creative.
But on the other hand, the whole point is the story, which leaves a lot to be desired - it turns out to be form over substance. In the book, Tomine describes his life, the life of a cartoonist who faces a lot of odds in the comics industry. Apart from that, it is a reflection of a person who constantly doesn't believe in himself, constantly questions his skills, can't find his way in social situations, says things without thinking about it first, and consequently feels bad about it, but that's where the self-reflection ends. The protagonist doesn't learn from his mistakes, doesn't develop as a person, and repeats the same awkward situations over and over again. And that's the worst part of it all - the repetitiveness. It's also a bit cruel that the main character doesn't have any good character traits, should I feel sorry for you? Or should I consider it a farce, a comedy of failures, and laugh at you?
Noting that this is an autobiographical novel, I found it tiresome to read, it seemed to me that it stopped being anecdotes from the sad life of a little-recognised cartoonist and started being his self-pity, or even punishing himself for who he is.
I keep wondering - should I actually have read it? At times I had the irresistible impression that I wasn't, as if I had intruded into the private records of a distraught person. The author creates a clumsy glimpse inside himself as if his private notes were to be his form of therapy. He is experiencing his catharsis, cleansing himself of everything, pouring out his experiences on paper, flooding the reader along the way. He may have learned something from this, but the reader does not.
Well, this book was not for me, since I could not get anything out of it for myself, but won't have a negative attitude and will continue to explore Tomine's work.
However, I'll address the positives first - I really appreciated the illustrations and the overall design of the book. Adrian Tomine's artwork is clean, clear, monochromatic and pleasing to the eye. In general, the whole idea that this is like a private notebook of the illustrator, created under the impulse of self-reflection is very creative.
But on the other hand, the whole point is the story, which leaves a lot to be desired - it turns out to be form over substance. In the book, Tomine describes his life, the life of a cartoonist who faces a lot of odds in the comics industry. Apart from that, it is a reflection of a person who constantly doesn't believe in himself, constantly questions his skills, can't find his way in social situations, says things without thinking about it first, and consequently feels bad about it, but that's where the self-reflection ends. The protagonist doesn't learn from his mistakes, doesn't develop as a person, and repeats the same awkward situations over and over again. And that's the worst part of it all - the repetitiveness. It's also a bit cruel that the main character doesn't have any good character traits, should I feel sorry for you? Or should I consider it a farce, a comedy of failures, and laugh at you?
Noting that this is an autobiographical novel, I found it tiresome to read, it seemed to me that it stopped being anecdotes from the sad life of a little-recognised cartoonist and started being his self-pity, or even punishing himself for who he is.
I keep wondering - should I actually have read it? At times I had the irresistible impression that I wasn't, as if I had intruded into the private records of a distraught person. The author creates a clumsy glimpse inside himself as if his private notes were to be his form of therapy. He is experiencing his catharsis, cleansing himself of everything, pouring out his experiences on paper, flooding the reader along the way. He may have learned something from this, but the reader does not.
Well, this book was not for me, since I could not get anything out of it for myself, but won't have a negative attitude and will continue to explore Tomine's work.
August 1, 2020
This is an autobiographical account of just about every cringey experience in Adrian Tomine's life. The format is clever--it is designed to look like a moleskin notebook, and the pages have lue gridlines like you see in some moleskins. His drawing is clean but not obsessive--it has a casual feel. But still seems way too clean and precise to be actual sketchbook drawings.
He starts with his humiliating description of how he confessed his love of superhero comics as an elementary school student to his fellow students. Then he launches into a series of humiliations as a professional cartoonist, starting with his first trip to the San Diego convention, in 1995. About a quarter of the time his humiliation is due to other people's rudeness and thoughtlessness, but the rest is because of his own unrealistic expectations and thin skin. And the reality is that I don't totally believe it--after all, Tomine is a successful artist, whose career has been skipping along from success to success since he was a teenager. He started his series of self-published comics in 1991 when he was 17 years old. (It was shortly after that that I became aware of his work, and I loved it. I wrote him a letter that was printed in issue 6 of Optic Nerve praising his work, which bizarrely is quoted in this book.)
I've followed his work avidly since then. Sometimes he's great and sometimes not--it's an uneven body of work. But at his best, Tomine is very good indeed.
He's always been a realistic storyteller, but rarely autobiographical. The only previous autobiographical work he did that I'm aware of was Scenes from and Impending Marriage, which is similar to this new book. Both are humorous, which Tomine turns out to be pretty good at. And they are both self-deprecating. When the genre of autobiographical comics first became popular, it was so common for cartoonists to depict themselves as loser schlubs that it became kind of a cliche of the genre. It's funny that nearly 30 years after the heyday of the self-deprecating autobio comic that Tomine--one member of that generation of cartoonists who avoided that trope--has fallen back into it.
This would be a criticism except that Loneliness is damn good. It was a cliche back when Joe Matt and Chester Brown were showing the world their faults. But now it's a device used by a master to tell a funny and moving story.
He starts with his humiliating description of how he confessed his love of superhero comics as an elementary school student to his fellow students. Then he launches into a series of humiliations as a professional cartoonist, starting with his first trip to the San Diego convention, in 1995. About a quarter of the time his humiliation is due to other people's rudeness and thoughtlessness, but the rest is because of his own unrealistic expectations and thin skin. And the reality is that I don't totally believe it--after all, Tomine is a successful artist, whose career has been skipping along from success to success since he was a teenager. He started his series of self-published comics in 1991 when he was 17 years old. (It was shortly after that that I became aware of his work, and I loved it. I wrote him a letter that was printed in issue 6 of Optic Nerve praising his work, which bizarrely is quoted in this book.)
I've followed his work avidly since then. Sometimes he's great and sometimes not--it's an uneven body of work. But at his best, Tomine is very good indeed.
He's always been a realistic storyteller, but rarely autobiographical. The only previous autobiographical work he did that I'm aware of was Scenes from and Impending Marriage, which is similar to this new book. Both are humorous, which Tomine turns out to be pretty good at. And they are both self-deprecating. When the genre of autobiographical comics first became popular, it was so common for cartoonists to depict themselves as loser schlubs that it became kind of a cliche of the genre. It's funny that nearly 30 years after the heyday of the self-deprecating autobio comic that Tomine--one member of that generation of cartoonists who avoided that trope--has fallen back into it.
This would be a criticism except that Loneliness is damn good. It was a cliche back when Joe Matt and Chester Brown were showing the world their faults. But now it's a device used by a master to tell a funny and moving story.
July 2, 2022
Quite like Chris Ware's Monograph, this shows an insight into the boredom and isolation of actually being a renowned comics artist, and how family eventually takes precedence over an artistic career.
Honestly surprised Clowes and Gaiman got this much attention but I only got into comics in 2015 and as far as I'm concerned Clowes seems like old gen now and Gaiman is so mainstream I wouldn't but him in the same genre even if book events people would.
This makes it clear that the amount of hours one puts into a project, no matter how arduous and involved (as comics surely is) does not correlate with what this means for one's sense of meaning and identity.
Could be seen as a downer but I think a lot of careers feel and end up like this. Nothing beats family, that's quite a nice message.
I can also now see why Adrian married the person he did!!
Wonder if Nick Drnaso, in a few decades time, will make a similar book with a similar message. This could be the start of a literary fiction of comics.
Honestly surprised Clowes and Gaiman got this much attention but I only got into comics in 2015 and as far as I'm concerned Clowes seems like old gen now and Gaiman is so mainstream I wouldn't but him in the same genre even if book events people would.
This makes it clear that the amount of hours one puts into a project, no matter how arduous and involved (as comics surely is) does not correlate with what this means for one's sense of meaning and identity.
Could be seen as a downer but I think a lot of careers feel and end up like this. Nothing beats family, that's quite a nice message.
I can also now see why Adrian married the person he did!!
Wonder if Nick Drnaso, in a few decades time, will make a similar book with a similar message. This could be the start of a literary fiction of comics.
October 19, 2021
The first 85% of this book is a big big dose of downer that a superficial and moralizing final act doesn't really justify. Love his clean lines, always have, but there's got to be better book ideas in his head than this one.
February 19, 2023
Autobiografinis nuoširdumas (kurį dar labiau paryškina užrašų knygutės stilius) paperka, bet sykiais ir atstumia – atrodo, ką, aš dabar esu priversta tai mėgti vien dėl to, kad autorius varo labai nuoširdžiai? Labai patiko pirma knygos dalis – autorius lyg ir žymus, bet nuolatos susiduria su tuščiomis salėmis, neprašyta kritika ir žmonėmis, kurie bando jį preventyviai "nusodinti" (ir iš savo patirties galiu pasakyti, kad labai keistos tos situacijos – "Tai tu čia ta komiksų autorė? Aha, tik neįsivaizdink labai". Kurioje vietoje savo gyvenime aš turėčiau įsivaizdinti? Kam sakyti taip nepažįstamam žmogui??).
Vėliau kažkaip ima kartotis, o tą jo laišką dukroms tai tiesiog praskipinau. Na, bet vis tiek faina knyga, tiek Tomine gerbėjams, tiek nekentėjams, tiek jo nežinantiems.
Vėliau kažkaip ima kartotis, o tą jo laišką dukroms tai tiesiog praskipinau. Na, bet vis tiek faina knyga, tiek Tomine gerbėjams, tiek nekentėjams, tiek jo nežinantiems.
October 19, 2022
Je n’avais pas particulièrement apprécié Killing and Dying du meme auteur, mais j’ai tellement aimé celui-ci que je pense m’y réessayer ^^
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