Wednesday Comics – July 15th, 2015

You know what’s fun?

COMICS ABOUT DEPRESSION!!

Well, maybe not fun, but…actually, I stand by it – they can be kind of fun.

Though this comic isn’t 100% about depression.

You know what? Let’s start over.

For show and tell today, I have Allie Brosh’s Hyperbole and a Half  (Amazon affiliate link) because it is a good book that makes me happy.

Hyperbole and a Half is a prose-comics hybrid – there are chapters where moderate amount of connects runs of panels, and chapters that skew more closely to illustrated essays. It existed first as a popular blog. One particular entry – a comic about brief surges of determination to be a responsible grownup- reached full-on meme status.

 

If you’ve only seen that image by itself (or edited to be about any of a million different other things it’s been used for) then I strongly recommend that you click through and read the entry it comes from. It’s a good representation of her work and like….super-relatable. Which is true for a lot of her work.

Brosh’s art style is very intentionally crafted to look sloppy and uncontrolled. The art is done in a program that is basically Microsoft Paint, lines are jagged, she gives herself single lines for extremities. But it’s all really consistent

The standout section of this book is a two-chapter discussion of depression. Brosh shares a transition from really aggressive self-loathing to a complete disconnection from all emotions. It’s an aspect of depression that can be hard to explain. You don’t like anything, you don’t like yourself, but it’s in a dispassionate and detached kind of way. It’s not often that you see depression presented that way, and it is strangely comforting to see that someone else sometimes feels like garbage in a way similar to how you sometimes feel like garbage. It’s weirdly comforting to watch Brosh try to explain to someone that they don’t need to worry- it’s just that nothing has any meaning anymore. It’s likewise gratifying that her decision to get help isn’t driven by some sudden, Hallmark-movie-style ray of hope. In fact, she talks about the frustration of trying to get people to understand that she doesn’t really have access to those emotions. Instead, it’s the realization that things have reached a level that is not okay. And even though you don’t necessarily care, it’s still time to go tell someone that so that you can maybe fix it. Having been down basically the same path, it’s validating to read – just to have the confirmation that other people have this experience.

Also, it’s funny. I swear. Brosh manages to make the whole thing hilarious, which is a big part of why I love it so much. Depression as a stirring drama with a soft-lit transition to the third act doesn’t appeal to me. I prefer to process my emotions through overly honest jokes (and crying jags, but I save that for my super-besties). I also respect that Brosh doesn’t project an overly tidy emotional arc onto the experience. I think it’s destructive to suggest that you make the decision to get better, then suddenly you’re fine. Depression is dumb and weird and hard in a lot of ways, and then you hopefully realize that you should probably go get help, and then things are still dumb and weird and hard but hopefully they’re also better.

…I said a lot about that section.

It’s only like 20% of the book, so we should probably move on. Because even if your serotonin is cold chillin’ at an ideal level most of the time, there are things to enjoy in this book. For example, dogs.

Primarily, though, the book is about  looking at your life and being VERY VERY honest with yourself about the gulf between who you tell yourself you are and who you actually are.

Oh, and stealing your grandpa’s birthday cake.

Books I’m Picking Up This Week:
Black Canary #2
Captain Marvel and the Carol Corps #2 
Giant Days #5
Hawkeye #22
Lumberjanes #16
Seige #1
Thor: God of Thunder vol. 4

Go buy some comics.