The Fate of the Artist

Collects: OGN

Released: April 2006 (First Second)

Format: 96 pages / color / $17.95 / ISBN: 9781596431331

What is this?: Artist Eddie Campbell details the investigation of his own (fictional) disappearance.

The culprit: Eddie Campbell

I know nothing of artist Eddie Campbell, except that he collaborated with Alan Moore on From Hell. Campbell’s The Fate of the Artist is an “autographical novel” told in many different artistic styles. So many styles, with a thin but baffling plot, that frankly, I don’t know what to make of it.

Fate is nominally about Campbell’s disappearance, narrated by the police officer who investigates. So there’s a lot of interviews with the family, although few of them are straightforward. The daughter is interviewed with crude speech balloons above photos of her. Some of the story is told through comic strips — interactions between Campbell and his wife are in the marital comic “Honeybee,” with other stories told through strips such as “Angry Cook,” “Theatricals,” and “Our Problem Child.” And some of the reminiscences about Campbell are told through straightforward, nine-panel-to-the-page, watercolored comics. When Campbell appears in these, the narration notes Campbell will be played by Richard Siegrist, a fictional actor.

So, first of all: do not expect anything of the plot. Anything. It’s extremely thin, has no real payoff, and is used as a frame for Campbell to talk about what he wants. It’s discarded when it’s convenient. I can’t see why Campbell used his fictional disappearance in an autobiography. He’s obviously talking about things that are very important to him, and the frame only distracts. It’s obviously a metaphor, but a metaphor that doesn’t work in the story is merely a big, distracting sign screaming “Look at me!” into your ear.

So, ignore that. Fate is made up of short vignettes, reminiscences of Campbell’s family life, told through his wife, his daughter, and the comic strips. They are melancholy tales, with rarely a happy story among them. Campbell seems obsessed with the ideas of roles — his part is played by Siegrist, the comic strip gives everyone defined comic roles, his observations of the “state of modern marriage.” Campbell’s art tries to break free of those roles in their startling variety, mostly well chosen for their roles. (His daughter in photos is an especially good choice; the comic strip “Honeybee,” which reduces marriage to stereotypical roles and punchlines is another.)

The storytelling is similarly scattershot but isn’t quite as effective. The second part of Fate begins delving into historical characters, real or fictional. Campbell uses this to explore the role viewers play in art: the critics, the audience, contemporaries. He goes from a short essay on reconstructions of lost classical structures to a direct speech on the matter to his own imaginary historical friends, which his daughter calls “a lot of good listeners.” These digressions allow Campbell to make the points he wants to, but it disturbs the book’s narrative (such as it is) and is a bit less artful in saying its piece than the rest of the book.

Which is a shame, because the final section, in which Campbell adapts O. Henry’s “Confessions of a Humorist,” is very well done and much more to the point than anything in the rest of Fate. In the adaptation, in which “the leading role is played by Mr. Eddie Campbell,” Henry and Campbell tell of a humor writer who becomes successful by mining every interaction for nuggets of wit and interest. He becomes despised and unhappy; when he chucks that career to buy into a funeral home, he becomes happy again. The sincerity of “Confessions” bleeds into the pages like the watercolors, and I get the feeling this is more true to Campbell than anything else in Fate, despite it being written about a century ago by another person.

I also have a feeling the people who will like this the most are the ones who have the greatest familiarity with Campbell’s work. Having read none of his work, I was baffled occasionally and disinterested at other times. There is a serious discussion of art and the artist here, but the disconnect between the surface and the symbol are too stark for me to engage with either the discussion or Campbell’s semi-humorous life. (Or this representation of his life.)

Rating: (2 of 5)

Hellboy, v. 6: Strange Places

Collects: Hellboy: The Third Wish #1-2 and Hellboy: The Island #1-2 (2002, 2005)

Released: April 2006 (Dark Horse)

Format: 128 pages / color / $17.95 / ISBN: 9781593074753

What is this?: Hellboy under the sea! Hellboy, fighting on the beaches!

The culprit: Mike Mignola

To conclude Hellboy Week, we have Hellboy, v. 6 : Strange Places. This is an odd one; the two miniseries that make up this volume were published three years apart, separated by writer / artist / creator Mike Mignola’s work on the first Hellboy movie and other projects.

In 2002’s “The Third Wish,” Hellboy goes to Africa, as promised in Conqueror Worm. He spends very little time there, as he’s almost immediately dropped under the sea. There he doesn’t find singing lobsters or flounders, but he is immediately attacked by three malevolent mermaids who capture him for a sea hag called the Bog Roosh. The Bog Roosh, fearing his destiny is to end the world, plans to dismember him and stop that destiny. In 2005’s “The Island,” he fights a giant worm and listens to exposition. (The latter is less exciting than you’d think.)

Both “The Third Wish” and “The Island” focus heavily on Hellboy’s destiny. I don’t know if most readers will think thats as boring as I did, but I found it didn’t make for a compelling story. Hellboy seems aimless, tossed from one point on the globe to another, with people yelling at him that he will end the world. Hellboy is baffled, then punches people, and the story ends. It’s less than satisfying. Hellboy doesn’t seem to defy or deny his alleged destiny so much as he reflexively punches those who believe in it.

As with Conqueror Worm, Mignola features ghosts or spirits of those killed long ago. In both stories, the dead rise and bring a sense of justice to the story — old crimes redressed in “The Island,” the innocent getting a little comfort in “The Third Wish.” Hellboy has little to do with the moral compass of either story. He’s just … again, he punches and stabs creatures and gets punched and stabbed. He doesn’t even get much in the way of witty dialogue.

That puts the burden of the story on the villains and other characters. The Bog Roosh has one plan and needlessly delays long enough for Hellboy to foil it. In “The Island,” the antagonists are a giant worm and a long-dead heretic who knows the true history of the world. And of course, we get to hear the history of the world and the heretic’s history; neither is interesting. Do I care about the creation story for the entity who will use Hellboy’s hand to destroy the world? No, because he’s a dragon who will destroy the world. That’s all I need to know. Do I care about the heretic’s story or why the Inquisition killed him? No, he’s not interesting either. I do care how the inquisitors were reanimated to torment him, but Mignola doesn’t explain that.

So there aren’t any interesting characters in “The Island” except Hellboy, who doesn’t do a hell of a lot. This is a problem. But man, can Hellboy take the abuse!

The lackluster stories make me want to give a stern lecture to Mignola the writer because he’s wasting the work of Mignola the artist. Mignola notes he mainly wanted to draw rocks and monsters when penciling the story that inspired “The Third Wish.” Those still are Mignola’s strengths, and fortunately, there are a lot of them in both stories. Mignola’s atmospherics are superb, and one scene — one with ghost sailors drinking on a derelict ship in “The Island” — makes me feel the conviviality of the ghosts and the desolation of the true setting. The book also includes the original first eight pages of “The Island,” originally a much different story. There’s no lettering, but those pages are the best part of the book; I’d dearly like to see Mignola finish the story, perhaps by stepping away from Hellboy’s mythology for a few pages.

This book also has a “Now a major motion picture: Hellboy II” sticker on it. I cannot think of a more deceptive way to advertise this book.

Unless you’re incredibly interested in Hellboy’s mythology, the reason to get this book is to look at Mignola’s monsters. I am not enough of a fan of anyone’s art to buy a book for that reason, but it’s worth reading — or least thumbing through — for Mignola’s art.

Rating: (1.5 of 5)