Half-way Through Maus, Super F*cking Contest y La Invasión de Boston

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Let me start with a confession, I’m reading Maus for the first time. You see, I read comics as a kid, stopped in my teens. Picked it up again about two years ago when I decided I might want to try writing them. So I missed out on all the “adult” books that came out before two years ago, for the most part, and I’m catching up. The other day I went to Amazon to order Fables & Reflections (purchased for free thanks to my wonderful readers buying little things I link to as well as using the search box on the side) and I picked up the Maus two-pack as well.

My second confession? I just finished the first book, My Father Bleeds History and, honestly, not that impressed. It’s written well, but I hope the second book redeems the first one somewhat. My problem with it is the use of the cat/mouse/dog/pig analogy. The thing is, it’s just a gimmick (so far) but it’s entirely contradicted by the source material. Spiegelman is painting the world as black and white (wasn’t Vladek and Anja, in fact, Polish?) whereas so far all the main characters are gray as all hell. And not only are they gray, but with the exception of Anja, they pretty much all fall towards the side of unlikable, with Art Spiegelman himself being the least likable non-German character.

Now, I’m pretty sure I know what’s going to happen. I’m going to read the second book and I’m going to get it. It’ll all come together. But if I were to read this in 1986 and not having access to the second book until 1991, I’m not sure what I would have taken away from it. So, I’ll check back in after I read the second one, maybe my remarks won’t be as blasphemous then. And one more thing, though, what the fuck was up with the Poles being pigs? Are the animals supposed to be representative of inner character? Rat makes sense for the Jews, despite the negative connotation, because they had to scurry and hide and live off scraps. But pigs? Most Poles weren’t fans of the Germans, either. They just wanted to survive like everyone else, a central point to the book. I don’t know, pig just seems really harsh.

Another comic related thing, with what seems to be a new contest being launched every week, it seems like the cats over at Comic Book Galaxy went ahead and trumped all the other fuckers. Enter their Super F*cking contest to win an original Kochalka painting, American Elf hardcover, Super F*ckers #1 and The Comics Journal #222. Nine runner-ups get a copy of Super F*ckers #1, a book you should have pre-ordered anyway.

I introduced you to the 2 grandparents, 7 siblings (plus significant others) and 13 cousins on Monday. With the exception of my Uncle Alex and his family, they all came to Boston to watch me graduate in 2000.

All of them. They piled into their minivans and coupes and made the trek from New York/Virginia/Buffalo/Connecticut/New Jersey to see me walk down an aisle and get my diploma. Most of my friends had two or three guests, tops. Not me, baby. I had over twenty guests, twenty loud guests, hooting and hollering when I walked up to get my diploma.

My mom came up early that week to spend some time with me. My dad brought up my grandparent’s and my Aunt Connie (who’s actually my mom’s second cousin) the day before graduation. But the day of is when the rest of the family came.

But what can I say, they were proud. I was the first person from the family (both sides) to graduate from college and to do it from a school like Boston University was a big thing. You should have seen them, after I came off the stage, my leather diploma holder in my hand. They all wanted to see it, wanted to see what accreditation looked like. So I opened it up and showed them the glorious contents: a bill for a thousand bucks.

After clearing up my account and getting my real diploma I met up with my family at the restaurant I chose for my celebratory dinner, La Famiglia Giorgio in the North End. Robin’s parents met up with us, their first time meeting my family. What better way than to throw them right into the fire? We all got along fine and had a great time.

And ran up a huge bill.

My father went to pay for it and came out five minutes later, wearing an apron, and started clearing the dishes off of the table. The entire table erupted in laughter.

After dinner most of the family went back to the hotel, it was a long day for all of us. My Uncle Chris, Aunt Jecinda (I know I’m spelling that wrong), Titi Lisa and Hervin went with me and my friends to get some beers down at Crossroads. Since most of the people that lived in my building had already moved out, and since as an RA I had a master key, I let them crash in our brownstone, set them up with some sheets and the like.

The next day we all went back home, even me. I remember sitting in the back of the car with my sister and I wanted to cry so bad but I just didn’t let myself. She knew, though, she always knows. It was such a great four years, the last two being especially good, and it was nicely capped off with the first large Rodriguez family get together in some time.

I just didn’t want to leave, though. I spent about four days in New York, making my rounds and then left for Virginia. Robin met me there, her plane was several hours delayed and I waited in Dulles Airport for her, chain smoking. We finally got to our hotel in Tyson’s Corner where we began two weeks of stretching our dollars as far as we could. We had no money, no apartment, and no friends and we were burning up my 2,000 in relocation money by staying in a $100 a night hotel (not counting airfare). And I was starting my new job in four days.

This part is technically a story for year two of my blovel, The Moose Out Of The Closet, but I just wanted to sort of touch on how absolutely fast life can change direction on you and sometimes, having your family there to ease the transition makes manageable. When I came to DC I was lucky to have Robin, who is as family as family gets for me, or else I don’t think I would have been able to do it. When I was leaving Boston and then New York, I was lucky to have my family there, reminding me that if I failed, they’d be there to pick my ass up.

Separately, I have such a longing for Boston at this moment. I think if Robin where to say, “Let’s move back” I’d start packing. I firmly believe New York is the greatest city in the world but when I think of Boston I want it so bad it hurts, maybe I’m just in denial. I think we'll make a trip out there this month, for all those from Boston reading this.

read a book, fanboy: Faithful

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posted by Jason at 3 Comments


3 Comments

Blogger ADD said...

Thanks for the link to the Kochalka contest, Jason, much appreciated!

10:05 AM  
Blogger Jason said...

Alan-
No problem, I'm just trying to distract you with kindness while I stuff the ballot box with false identities.

10:14 AM  
Blogger Dav said...

I wasn't particularly impressed with Maus the first time through either, both books. I think I was expecting something that would reach out and punch me in the stomach; it's a Holocaust story after all, and there are certain genre expectations (if you can call it a genre). However, I've come to appreciate Maus more and more over the years after multiple rereadings, and I definitely consider it worthy of its "classic" status.

I've had the same experience with other critical favourites before; Sin City and the first 100 Bullets arc, for example, seemed deadly dull to me the first time through, but I reread both every few months now and each time I can't believe I didn't love them from the start.

7:56 PM  

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