What Was THAT All About? 20 Years of Strips and Stories. By Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman. Andrews McMeel.
$24.99.
The answer to the question in the title of this collection of Zits strips may be found on page 49, and
it is an answer of such sense, sensibility and sensitivity, such intelligence
and awareness, that it bears branding into the consciousness not only of
cartoonists but also of anyone who reads, enjoys, loves, tolerates, accepts,
puts up with, collects, is appalled by, or otherwise interacts with comic
strips. All this, despite the fact that the answer is written by the artist
half of the Zits team, Jim Borgman,
rather than the writer half, Jerry Scott. Unless the two swapped brains
somewhere along the line, which, as this book shows, is entirely possible.
This
is another book in Andrews McMeel’s Handsome Hardcover series of comic-strip
retrospectives; and no, there is no such official trademark, but doggone it,
there ought to be, and double doggone it, now Andrews McMeel can rip off the
idea. Well, it is a small gesture of gratitude to a company that takes comic
strips seriously no matter how un-serious their content may be, which leads it
from time to time to produce collectible hardbound volumes in designs ranging
from elegant to clever. That includes this one, with its cover cutout through
which eternal teenager Jeremy Duncan can be seen noticeably rolling his eyes.
The book’s title and subtitle – and the strip’s name, which does not appear in
either of them – are printed in several sizes, colors and type styles around
that central cutout.
About the strip’s name: that is just one of the many matters into which
readers get insight here. The book is divided into sections with labels
including “Happy Festivus, or Whatever,” “Six Bricks,” and “Chillax and
Shredded.” One such title, “Making the Suits Squirm,” shows some of the many
titles that Scott and Borgman considered for the strip before settling on Zits. The introduction to this
particular section is by Scott, and among the many potential titles seen
scrawled on scraps of paper are “Grounded for Life,” “Planet Jeremy,” and “Yo.”
There are also three versions of the same panel showing Jeremy sprawled amid some
of his possessions while his bemused dad looks on, one using the title “Jeremy
and Stuff,” one called “Wild Thing,” and one with the final title, which even
earned a backhanded compliment (the best kind) from Charles Schulz of Peanuts. Clearly the decision on what to
call the strip was a very big deal: it is also the topic of a second section,
“From the Wayback Machine,” which is introduced by Borgman and gives his take on the awfulness of some almost-used
potential titles.
Each of the book’s 21 sections (one of which gets introduction-style
Roman numerals rather than standard numbers to make it look as if there are,
like, 20 sections for 20 years, yippee) probes some element of the strip, with
relevant examples then proffered not sequentially (as might be expected in a
retrospective) but in a certain amount of depth. And one thing that comes clear
again and again (and again) is that Zits
is not only wonderfully written but also amazingly illustrated. As
surreal-but-realistic strips go, Zits
has no equal. The gorillas charging into the locker room as a tiny monkey flees
before them are a perfect representation of high-school seniors as perceived by
a younger student after gym class. The numerous ways Jeremy finds to make noise
while descending the stairs in his house (including one showing both an
elephant and a rhinoceros) are
perfectly imagined. The tour of world landmarks, from the St. Louis Gateway
Arch to the Eiffel Tower to the pyramids of Egypt, fits perfectly with Jeremy’s
attitude toward after-school errands with his mom. A marvelous school-picture
strip that includes five photos of guys with attitude (James Dean, Sylvester
Stallone, Clint Eastwood et al.) whom
Jeremy is supposed not to emulate is,
well, picture-perfect. The way Jeremy’s long-winded explanations and complaints
fit within single words or twine around the room as he attempts to get out of
something-or-other provides exactly the right touch of absurdity and accuracy
in equal measure. The horde of locusts stripping the Duncan family kitchen bare
is just the right visual metaphor for teens descending on a food source. And
all this comes on top of superb verbal and visual characterization of every
single major character in the strip, from Jeremy’s long-suffering parents
(emphasis on “suffering”) to best bud Hector, girlfriend Sara, much-perforated
Pierce, and many others. Oh – and then there are the super-clever “repeat”
strips, such as the guide to a teenager’s feelings that features 20 identical
pictures of Jeremy’s face, and the one explaining why the family car is out of
gas that shows 20-plus images of Jeremy looking forward, then back, as he
practices getting out of and into the garage.
So
what is the answer to the question
posed in the title, What Was THAT All
About? “Putting something singular and remarkable into the world takes time
and thought, usually many attempts, and the patience to stay with it when the
first ten tries fail,” writes Borgman. “You should be thinking about working
late into the night when everyone else has gone to bed and sometimes watching
the sun come up as you put on the finishing touches,” he explains to a would-be
cartoonist. “This is how cartoonists create worlds for their characters to live
in and that seize the imaginations of their readers. It’s a beautiful feeling.”
Wow, that is good. And wow, that is preachy. And wow, does Borgman know it,
since he places next to his own words a picture of Jeremy’s mom, her hand smack
over her eyes in the traditional comic-strip pose that means, “Oh, for crying
out loud.” And wow, does that explain why Zits
so often has readers laughing out
loud. It’s a beautiful feeling.
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