Customer Reviews

Hicksville

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I consider myself a graphic novel snob. And I just don't have the time or energy for poorly executed work. Lone Wolf & Cub, Usagi Yojimbo, Maus, Watchmen, the Swamp Thing books, Top 10, Nausicaa, Transmetropolitan, these are the collections you'll find displayed proudly in my living room. Not only is Hicksville in that collection, but it's quickly catching up to Watchmen as the story I've most often loaned out to non-comics readers.

Hicksville is self contained, consistent, and human. I never got into the whole DC/Marvel thing, but Horrocks' enthusiasm for comics history draws you in. And while he plays with that history, he weaves in compelling stories about people which are subtle and adult. Yes "adult", but not in any gratuitous way. Here, it is in the way that we have all experienced life as we get older. Relationships are confusing and sad. Wounds take time to heal. Quests for answers don't always (ever?) work out as we had hoped.

At first I was worried the art was too simple and sketchy. I quickly realized that I had underestimated his style. The frames have a smooth, even flow that carry you with an unhurried pace through the story. As the various threads begin to weave together, the drawings take on much of the burden of storytelling. And frames which don't need any words, don't have any.

You might go back to the beginning the first time you get half way through so you can savor the art and the story before all is revealed. Don't feel bad, his unassuming style (both in drawing and in storytelling) just lowered your guard.

I believe this is a great work.

As an enthusiast of the comics medium, I'm very excited about this book. Hicksville shows a maturity and grace that has finally gotten beyond the pulp conventions of comics' first fifty or so years, and the anxiously antinomian hipness of the last twenty. Horrocks has deep affection for all those periods, but the voice he uses is entirely his own. In Hicksville, we have a true graphic novel, delving into character and atmosphere, rather than relentless, explosive action. Horrocks' cartoony, accessable art style never seems forced or draws attention to itself. Unlike other similarly-ambitious comics artists of his generation, such as Seth or Adrian Tomine, Horrocks never comes across as arty or forced. The plot -- with its concern with the history, art, and business of comics -- may be initally offputting for the non-comics-literate reader, but anyone who perseveres (and uses the glossary in the back) will find Horrocks' enthusiasm infectious rather than offputting.

As a general reader, and certainly not as an expert in the genre, I'm always a bit hesitant to review a graphic novel; there are devoted fans of the genre, and it is very easy to over- or under-praise any particular entry. With that in mind, my review should be read as one written by a reader who is naive in the form, but who knows what he likes and dislikes about any particular book and who is, incidentally, willing to learn about the standards of the form.

For starters, the illustrated issue of Hicksville now on Amazon is not the issue you will receive; "As Amazon warns, this view is of the Paperback edition (2002) from Drawn and Quarterly. The Paperback edition (2010) from Drawn and Quarterly that you originally viewed is the one you'll receive if you click the Add to Cart button at left." There are three major differences: first, the cover and end papers are changed and much more attractive; second, the stock and colors are strengthened and enhanced; and third, the introduction has been re-written.

Dylan Horrock's plot is interesting, and refers to many of the icons in the genre -- to this reader, in an interesting manner, which led me to Google a number of references and to check Horrock's website, Hicksville Comics, to understand some of the complexities. The story, in brief:

Dick Burger is a great comic book creator and insufferable jerk, one who retained copyright of his work, made a fortune complete with a private jet, hot tub included, and a mansion in LA. Leonard Bates is a would be biographer who travels to Burger's childhood home; no one in town will discuss the man. But, everyone in town is a great expert in comic books, with a library containing the greatest collection of comic books in the world; the library contains several copies of Action #1 freely available to anyone. (Google came in handy here, and not for the only time as I enjoyed this fine novel.)

I also read much of the material on Horrock's website, including a fascinating essay on how to study graphic novels as an art form. He writes: "In the past twenty years or so, there's been a growing body of theory, research and criticism focussed on comics. One remarkable contribution to that discussion is Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art, first published in 1993. A 216-page comic about comics, McCloud's book explores the history, language and formal structure of the medium. Since it appeared, there have been numerous responses by academics, critics and cartoonists. But for me, the most interesting to date has been The horrible truth about comics by James Kochalka."

Horrock analyzes Kochalka's book in some detail, and his overall conclusion is that to do justice to the genre, one must come up with an analytical structure somewhat different than the usual fiction elements of "plot, characterisation, narrative structure, the use of language, and so on. When a piece of writing seems thin in these areas, it's easy to dismiss it as 'weak.'"

I really enjoyed reading through and studying this book, using Horrock, Kochalka and McCloud as guides. A review in "The Comics Journal" called the first version "a sweetly told love letter to the comics medium." It is a love letter that probably won't make me a fan, but will deepen my enjoyment of other entries in the genre.

Robert C. Ross 2010

Dick Burger has made millions and is one of the most powerful people in the comics industry. He's often compared to comic legends like Jack Kirby for revitalizing the industry and Stan Lee stands in awe of him. Leonard Batts, a comics biographer, begins the process of creating the definitive book on Burger. But as Batts begins his research he finds Burger has a dark secret back in his home town of Hicksville--a small remote town in New Zealand where comics legends come and the library has books found no where else in the world. Will Batts survive discovering this secret or will it drive him to the edge of destruction?

Hicksville starts off a bit slow as it takes a little bit to figure out the pacing and the interweaving of the short comics, but once you get into the story and action really pick up. This book is Dylan's love letter to the comics world, his way of perhaps saying that the best comics in the world...are those ones that aren't published. And that sometimes the biggest and most talked about folks in the industry...aren't the greatest. Sometimes it's the small quiet ones that change the world. In many ways the story line reminds me of some of the subtleness of Twain's short story "Captain Stormfield's Visit to Heaven" as Twain makes some of the same comparisons to that the greatest in a given area might be the ones that you've never heard of before.

The artwork takes a bit of getting used to, as it's not as well drawn as say Blankets or Fun Home Family Tragicomic...but it does have it's own style and grace to it, especially as he blends together the stories with the short comics--each having it's own style to set it apart. And sometimes the drawings and figures are so big that the frames themselves can't contain them and the characters take on a life of their own carrying the story with them.

If you're a fan of graphic novels or the comics industry...or even if you aren't--pick up this book and give it a read. Then read it a second or third time just to see what you missed.

As an outsider to the world of comics (well, I grew up on Tintin and Asterix, and love Adrian Tomine's stuff, as well as Joe Sacco), I found this book to be a bit of an exercise in navel-gazing somewhat comparable to when a novelist writes a novel about writing or the publishing industry. The book's plot revolves around the history of comics and the industry's evolution into, well, an industry. One that stifles "art" and creativity in the name of serving up the latest installment (and movie) of the spandex-clad superheroes.

This somewhat whiny message is woven into the tale of a journalist trying to learn about the background of the industry's current superstar, a quest which takes him to a semi-magical small town in New Zealand, where everyone reads and appreciates comics. Horrock's exhibits a remarkable dexterity of storytelling in sustaining the story while interspersing all manner of digressions, subplots, and asides which may or may not be real. But while this is abstractly impressive, unless one is really into the whole world of comics, it's not likely to captivate. The art is not really to my taste, I prefer more consistency and realism, but it does suit the story perfectly. As always with D&Q, the book is beautifully produced, I just wish it had been more interesting to us non-insiders.

A favourite among fellow cartoonists, Dylan Horrocks is a magician. From his book, you can tell this guy not only loves comics, he breaths comics as well. This is manifested from the imaginery place he created called Hicksville, where everyone reads comics. Well, not only that, they actually know what real comics are. Horrocks is such a good writer that after reading this book, you'll acutually believe there is a place called Hicksville.

As an outsider to the world of comics (well, I grew up on Tintin and Asterix, and love Adrian Tomine's stuff, as well as Joe Sacco), I found this book to be a bit of an exercise in navel-gazing somewhat comparable to when a novelist writes a novel about writing or the publishing industry. The book's plot revolves around the history of comics and the industry's evolution into, well, an industry. One that stifles "art" and creativity in the name of serving up the latest installment (and movie) of the spandex-clad superheroes.

This somewhat whiny message is woven into the tale of a journalist trying to learn about the background of the industry's current superstar, a quest which takes him to a semi-magical small town in New Zealand, where everyone reads and appreciates comics. Horrock's exhibits a remarkable dexterity of storytelling in sustaining the story while interspersing all manner of digressions, subplots, and asides which may or may not be real. But while this is abstractly impressive, unless one is really into the whole world of comics, it's not likely to captivate. The art is not really to my taste, I prefer more consistency and realism, but it does suit the story perfectly. As always with D&Q, the book is beautifully produced, I just wish it had been more interesting to us non-insiders.