
Within it's sketchily drawn black and white pages were stories of love, loss, birth, death, childhood, adulthood, sex, incontinence, holidays, work, alcohol, philosophy and most of all the realities of friendship. 17 years later I still have my copy it gets reread every year or so. and it still makes me laugh and sigh in equal measures.
When I left the comic shop I parted company with comics - they were getting really bad by this point - and so fell out of touch with what was going on. Now and again curiosity would drag me into a comic shop. If I saw that beautiful scratchy art I would always buy it and so I had read some of Campbell's work since - the most famous being 'From Hell' - it's all been good, some of it very good ('The Cheque Mate!') but nothing has come close to replicating that original impact. Until, that is, I read 'The Fate of the Artist.' A detective story without a detective. The story of a missing person who is present throughout. An analysis of one man's life and it's impact on those around him. A peak behind the curtain and a dissection of fears, foibles, fantasies and family. As a narrative it's exemplary, as a piece of art it's sublime. A truly stunning read that doesn't so much demand your attention as deserve it.
No comments:
Post a Comment