by Mike Meginnis
Journal comics have exploded in recent years, largely due to hits like
James Kochalka's work and Drew Weing's. There's nothing more instructive about
the wrong way to work than an explosion in your comic's genre.
The
endless cadre of journal comics has taught us that the genre is a delicate
balance. It has taught us that if you're constantly remarking that you
don't know what to put in the strip today, then your life isn't interesting
enough to entertain and probably never will be. We've learned that if
you try to act like your world doesn't revolve around you, you'll come
off as disingenuous -- but we've also learned that if you focus on
yourself too exclusively, you'll bore the hell out of us, and we'll get sick
of your face. We've learned that anybody can draw him- or herself on
the toilet, and that this is no longer shocking or even interesting. Oh,
what we've learned.
Bell's work doesn't draw comparison to many contemporary online comics,
though. Sure, you can see some of Weing's bemusement in her
personality, but the way she delivers it recalls Eddie Campbell, an oft-forgotten
master of autobiography more known for his portrayals of the Ripper
killings. Like Campbell's work, Bell's journal is incredibly lively. Both
have a talent for selecting exactly the right details of their day to
share with us. Bell knows we probably don't want to read a strip solely
about what it's like to be an underappreciated artist -- hell, half her
readership may well fall into that category -- but we do like her
observations of the amusing neuroses of friends. We do enjoy stories like
the time her friend got his car smashed on both ends. We like listening
in on their conversation. He says he can't trust material things
anymore, doesn't feel as secure as he used to. He says he should give up his
car and just use public transportation, or walk wherever he goes.
"Where's Tony?" "Oh, he's still crossing the east river in a dinghy." That's
great stuff.
The humor in Bell's journal comics often comes from such whimsical
nonsense. She focuses on dialogue more than action, on characterizations
more than reporting events. You may not always be too clear on what she's
doing with her life -- there's usually a mysterious comic "project" of
some sort going on in the background, completely unexplained and unseen
-- but you'll always be able to say that you like Gabrielle Bell's view
of every person involved.
Like Campbell, she likes people, and it shows. It usually takes
her just one panel to make us like a friend of hers as much as she
does. She gives their portrayals warm attention, giving them cute little
eyes and gentle smiles. Perhaps most importantly, she makes them cute
without forgetting that they are human and they do have flaws. She gives
herself the same treatment, as well. You don't really love someone if
you can't love their flaws. You can't write people if you can't show
them. From stupid arguments with her boyfriend to unpleasant moping, we see
things she probably shouldn't have done. We understand them. We like
her anyway.
Perhaps what I like most about Gabrielle Bell's journal comics, though,
is her sly acknowledgment of the fact that, when you get right down to
it, a journal comic is a kind of fiction. Her second strip in the
Bell's Home Journal sequence goes from mundane to impossible in three
panels. At first it seems to be about her friend Annie having to wait too
long in line at the bank. Then Annie gets fed up and decides to free
herself from the shackles of civilization the only way she knows: stripping
naked and screaming for everyone to join her. She says to her friends,
you'll get naked with me, won't you? They are embarrassed. They say no,
they'd rather not do that right this minute. She is embarrassed too,
now, and struggles to get dressed again as things suddenly get moving and
she finds herself next in line. Now obviously this didn't happen, but
it's still funny. It's still worth putting in a journal comic. It also
acknowledges the obvious: we can't trust a word Ms. Bell says about
herself or anyone else, any more than we could if she was a novelist or a
feature film maker.
She pulls the same trick later on in a series of strips called "THE
HOLE." It starts out documenting a perfectly normal argument between two
roommates over a hole in the bathroom wall, but by the end Bell's friend
has gotten sucked into it, she's covering for his disappearance as
though she had murdered him, and finally she's diving in after him. Again,
this is obviously completely fictitious. But she almost had you going
for a minute there, didn't she?
Just because it says something in a diary doesn't mean it happened.
Just because you read it in the newspaper doesn't make it so. Trust nobody
completely and remember that if Ms. Bell can lie to you, anybody can.
One more way in which Bell's work mirror's Campbell is her exuberant
art. Their styles are largely different, but they both stick to
unapologetically cartoonish art most of the time, with the occasional vaguely
erotic foray into realism. Both clearly love the act of drawing at least
as much as any given subject, and both infuse each character with two
lives: that of the person she or he is depicting, and her or his own
life, as well. There's a little piece of Bell in all of her friends as she
sees them. This speaks to her ability to empathize with others, if not
necessarily as a person then definitely as an artist.
Perhaps the most essential thing Bell and Campbell share, so long as
this review is apparently going to revolve around one painfully obvious
comparison, is a delightful self-love. They both draw themselves nude
with surprising frequency (not all over the place, but certainly more
than we've seen from Weing or Neil Babra) and both seem to embrace their
naked forms with the kind of accepting warmth most people could never
manage. They do not seem to lie about their flaws, simply accept them.
This act in and of itself is very rare, and extremely enjoyable (even
instructive) to observe. Would that we could all have such healthy
attitudes toward ourselves, naked or otherwise. Would that we could observe
our friends with such affection and caring. Would that we could all find
so much humor in the grinding irritations and strangeness of day to day
life.
It was unfair to compare Bell to another artist so much, but it was
also truthful, and what's done is done. Serializer may be an anthology
site with a lot of weak links, but Gabrielle Bell certainly is not one of
them. Here's hoping she puts together more work for them soon.
