Two Book Reviews
The Book of Genesis, Illustrated
by R. Crumb
W. W. Norton and Company
Just in time for Christmas, the famous or
perhaps infamous creator of Fritz the Cat
and Mr. Natural, Robert Crumb, has published
a book which radically departs not only from
his work but practically everone else's:
a comic (or graphic novel) of the Biblical
Book of Genesis, God and all.
Crumb's God is very clearly not some sort of
religious or philosophical speculation but the
literary character who shows up in the original
Genesis, the Ancient of Days; he's an
old but very vigorous man
with long white hair and a flowing beard, a
considerable aura, and impressive powers. (Crumb
has said that drawing God required a lot of
White-Out.) He is subject to fits of anger and
crankiness and at least pretends not to be
entirely omniscient or omnipotent, even if he is
definitely the Creator. He has his doubts at
times. Prior to the Flood, you
will recall, he repents of having created humans,
and resolves to destroy the world; but then he
repents of his repentance as well and saves Noah:
he changes is mind, which the more absolute
post-Platonic God, beyond space, time, categories
and reconsiderations wouldn't do.
The original text is presented in completely
unexpurgated and unmodified form, and thus
includes individual murder, mass murder,
annihilation of whole populations, rape, incest,
violent sex perversion, fraud, robbery, war, and
slavery, all of which are pictorially represented
explicitly when necessary. The cover of the book
recommends giving it to children only under adult
supervision. Probably, though, it's not a lot
harder than a lot of video games or the New
York Post. Genesis is a tough, weird book
just as the world is tough and weird, and Crumb
meets it head-on with his eyes open.
All the drawing is in the traditional Crumb style,
but none of it, as far as I can see, is in the
satirical or ironic mode. Crumb's fame, style
and concerns began with parody of the lowest of
lowbrow comics, including not only the ten-cent
shoot-em-ups of his youth but also Tijuana Bibles
and the stuff that became clip art,
and to some extent his style still shows it; but in
Genesis his more outrageous parodic
excesses have been severely chastened. If we
regard Genesis as Late Crumb and Zap
Comix as Early Crumb, the bridge is clearly
the middle period when various sketchbooks and
autobiographical works appeared, in which Crumb
made serious and I would say successful attempts
to represent living and historical persons and
things, such as famous Blues Musicians of the
classical era, in a non-ironic, non-satirical and
yet interesting development of his previous style.
While these and the current work are no longer
parody, they retain plenty of vigor and humor.
One thing I expecially liked was that, confronted by
endless lists of begats, where we have only names
in the original Genesis, Crumb has gone to the
trouble of drawing little portraits, each with
personality, very possibly drawn from
acquaintances or people seen in the street,
reminding us that at least in theory the begat-lists
were of real people, probably included because they
were thought to be ancestors of the writers and
transcribers. All of the characters, big and
small, look like tough Middle Eastern
tribespeople, not middle-class Americans as in
so many sword'n'sandal movies, and they have
those big Crumb hindquarters and feet. They're
not delicate.
On the whole, the book proved highly entertaining,
and if you don't think it is quite up to the
Sistine Chapel, at least it has more pages. I
strongly recommend it.
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Art that Creeps:
Gothic Fantasies and the Macabre in Contemporary Art
Korero Books
Yasha Young, ed.
Art That Creeps is a collection
rather than the work of a single person. Unlike
Genesis, then, it is a highly mixed bag. I found
the title rather folksy given the content, some of
which is quite serious. The blurbist on the
back cover plays to the popular, as well: he
or she writes "An amazing collection of neo-gothic
visual energy and inspiration from the worlds of
lowbrow, neo-surrealism and beyond." I take it
this was a marketing decision, since "goths" and
vampires are big with the ticket-buying folk
these days, and should not reflect negatively on
the contents. "Postmodern", it seems, is no
longer considered a good hook.
Horrifying, frightening, revolting or just plain
"creepy" work has of course been a component of
high art since antiquity, and includes such
redoubtable warhorses as Bosch, Blake, Goya, and
of course Francis Bacon. Recently, the demand for
the design of characters in science fiction,
fantasy and horror movies has spawned a crossover
milieu on the Internet in which mall rats with
corpses on their T-shirts rub along virtually with
prosperous gallery-goers who want something edgy as a
backdrop for their $500 haircuts. (Think of
Giger, for
instance.) One is reminded of the way in which
the most elegant Art Deco and Modernism found
their way to the design of cheap toasters and
automobile dashboards eighty or ninety years ago.
In this book, the media and styles are highly
variegated; one sees drawing, painting, sculpture,
photography, and combinations thereof. Some of
the material techniques are highly advanced. The
drawing and painting are, generally, strongly
realist in detail; overall the images
tend to be forthrightly surrealistic.
Some of the painting is more subtle,
perhaps expressionist more than realist (or "hyperrealist").
There are a few sculptures which, in
contrast to the painting, are not representative,
although they preserve the external texture of machines.
They are rather like something you might have
seen in a
Quay Brothers
animation. The photographs,
being already realistic, have been worked the other
way; most of them are posed, with the subjects and
backgrounds having been arranged and decorated, or
the images themselves later altered with paint or
computers.
In most cases the work appears to be of a very
high technical quality, indeed, slickness, the
better to set off the overall strangeness or
"creepiness" of the work. I noticed that many of
the subjects are, or at least have begun as,
attractive young women; the signs of age, at least
of extreme age, are perhaps still too horrifying
even for goths and hyperrealists. There are not
many bug-eyed monsters, but there may be a few too
many skeletons. Dolls and creepy children, a
long-time staple of the form, are of course
not unrepresented. And in the realm of the
inescapable, I think we are given at least
one clown, but at least it is a subtle and
ambiguous clown.
On the whole I felt quite entertained, one
might even say illuminateed, but not
deeply moved or provoked by the material in the
book. This is mostly work of a Baroque rather
than a Romantic or Classical sensibility, and like
early Surrealism appeals to the intellect rather
than the emotions or the spirit. For the most
part the images are beautiful or at least pretty
in the "gothic" mode, however, and
delightful to behold if your taste runs that
way.
The names of the artists, some of whom I hope
to review as individuals some day, are
Jason Shawn Alexander, Wayne Martin Belger,
Annie Bertram, Marina Bychkova, Nicoletta
Ceccoli, Jan Czerwinski, Leslie Ditto,
Melissa Foreman, Naoto Hattori, Scott Holloway,
Avnia Kahn, Richard Kirk, Vera Mar, Michael
Page, Chris Peters, Michael Ryan, John Santerineross,
Natali Shau, David Stoupakis, Daniel Van Nes, Raf
Veulemans, Madeleine Von Foerster, Chet Zar. They
are mostly from North America or Western Europe;
an excursion into other geographical or cultural
realms might have been rewarding. (Latin America
in particular has earned some repute for this sort
of thing.) The editor is Yasha Young, of the
Strychnin Gallery,
Berlin.
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