From the award-winning author of Swallow Me Whole! Please Release collects four autobiographical stories, each linked by a series of open questions on work, mental disorders, aging, punk rock, developmental disabilities, horror movies, and a little unrequited love to boot.
Nathan Lee Powell is an American cartoonist and musician. Born in 1978 in Little Rock, Arkansas, Nate spent his childhood in different parts of the country, as his family moved around following his father's duties as an Air Force officer. Powell became active in the punk rock scene since his teen age. He ended up performing in several bands over the years, and even owing a DIY punk record label. At the same time, he developed an interest in visual arts and majored in Cartooning at the School of Visual Arts (SVA) in New York. For about ten years Powell worked as a care giver for adult with developmental disabilities, while also drawing comic books. His major break came with the graphic novel Swallow Me Whole, which won the Ignatz Award for Outstanding Debut and Outstanding Artist in 2008, as well as the Eisner Award for Best Original Graphic Novel in 2009. Between 2013 and 2016 Nate Powell released what remains his most famous work, the three volumes of March, a comic biography of civil rights activist and Congressman John Lewis.
To be an autobiographical cartoonist, one has to have some level of egoism and/or hubris to imagine that others would be willing to spend the time delving into the artist's personal crisis. Not to say that the average cartoonist is a narcissist or anything so extreme, but there is inherent that degree of self-awareness that drives one to portray him/herself in a semi-interesting light.
Please Release is not technically autobiography, but falls more along the lines of memoir. Artist Nate Powell works amongst the developmentally delayed during the day, and wrestles with his internal paranoias by night. At one point, Powell describes the feeling of terror that enveloped him during the night after watching a flaky horror film – a feeling which did not seem to exist during the viewing, and dissipated with such finality that Powell tried to deliberately stir up “that old haunt” to re-experience... something. Something distracting, or stimulating, or... something.
The thing is, while Please Release has a number of poignant moments, the dialogue seems mired in pretense. The written word, which appears as narration, could also pass for B-level lyrics, or even lower-scale poetry. This serves to draw the reader into Powell's life, while keeping them away – further than arm's length, but still within lip-reading distance.
As a human being, Nate Powell appears as compassionate, flawed, and a little self-involved. But that's okay – the portrayal of one's self is extremely difficult, especially in self-caricature such as the protagonist within Please Release.
(And while “protagonist” seems too strong a term in places, the bare truth remains that Powell performs the simple act of human kindness upon the less fortunate, and this alone serves to make him above average. His tales do not extol his own virtues, but elucidate them for what they are, in as simplistic means as the comics medium.)
Please Release merits not a single but a number of readings, under varying circumstances in the reader's life, in order to differently perceive the four stories presented. And slowly, at that.
A short series of self reflective sketches on the artist's life. Not really a page turner. There are lots of reasons to read, and getting the perspectives of others is a good one. The author and I are the same age, but have had very different lives. He seems a bit happier going to work than I have been recently, but I am probably making more money. Which one of us is happier now? Who has the best shot at future happiness?
I found the lettering irritating. I read the kindle version, and that is usually a bit harder to work with than print, but Powell wasn't making it easy with tiny script snaking across his panels.