Invisible People (1992) #1-3 by Will Eisner

Huh; I’ve got several copies of this. A three issue comic book series, and the collection from Kitchen Sink, and the same collection from DC Comics. “Oops.”

Perhaps because the cover design on the floppies is very different from the collected edition. (And very… desktop publishing? And not in a good way.)

As usual with Eisner, he’s not doing a graphic novel here, but is instead doing three short stories that he tries to unify with an over-arching theme: This time it’s about “invisible people”. And the first story does indeed seem to want to make the lead character somewhat invisible.

But then the story turns out to be the “mistaken obituary” stock story, which is a drag. It has the requisite “ironic” ending.

The second story is about a guy who has healing powers, but doesn’t realise it for a while, but I’m not sure how that makes him particularly invisible.

The ending is very “ironic”. And oh look, we have a character saying that he’s invisible, so I guess that ties things together…

The final story starts off in a more interesting way, perhaps…

… but then it turns into a stock “mother fights with (prospective) daughter-in-law” story. (With a really ironic ending.) And look! Somebody’s invisible at the end!

It’s not that these are awful stories — they’re standard, maudlin 30s set pieces, and Eisner does those pretty well — but the damage comes from Eisner trying to shoe-horn the stories into a grander narrative by simply having people mentioning the word “invisible” here and there, and that makes them rather risible.

The Comics Journal #155, page 96:

Will Eisner’s latest effr-t is dedicated to Carolyn
boly. a Florida woman who despaired of receiving
medical aid from her community support system
because her application for assistance had been lost
in a computer glitch. Disabled, impoverished, and
alone. she ultimately hanged herself. weeks later,
the system finally came through with her funds. In
Invisible People, Eisner explores “the identity of the
individual in a crowded, im1Ersonal world,” one who
too often gets lost in the shuffle.
Invisible people is made up of three books, each
of which is a complete story by itself but also con-
tributes to the overall therne. The first tmk, Sanctum,
represents the best effort. In this story, the protagonist
loses his identity, his job, his home, and ultimately
his life as an ironic result Of his self-isolation from
the world. The second book of the series. The power,
doesn’t work quite as well, in part because the theme
appears to be too grand in scale to be easily accom-
modated by a 40-page format. However, the story is
quite an engaging tale of a man who strives for
recognition through the power of healing but who
slides back into invisibility when his faith in himself
fails. The final book, Mortal Combat, returns to a
simpler theme — the conflict between a pssessive
mother and a lonely girlfriend who each struggle to
control a life.
Each of the three stories shows us a worst-case
scenario of the loneliness and desperation of city-
dwellers and at times, Eisner does seem to push the
limits of believability. However, Eisner’s art and page
layout are well-rendered and overall, Invisible peo-
ple makes for a good read.

The Comics Journal #159, page 18:

The fourth
most nominated cartoonist was another surprise:
comics grandmaster Will Eisner. The Kitchen
Sink-published series Invisible People — the
first of Eisner’s post-Spirit work to be released
in a comic book format — netted Eisner four
nominations, including “Best Cartoonist” and
“Best Continuing or Limited Series.”

Apparently people like it:

Final Verdict: 9.5 – “Invisible People” is a gut punch. A call to reach out to others and make connections, not only for their benefit but for yours, too.

This is the one hundred and thirty-ninth post in the Entire Kitchen Sink blog series.

Hypnotic Tales (1992) by Richard Sala

I already wrote about this book in my punk comix blog series, so I’m not gonna repeat myself over here on this blog. So there!

This is the one hundred and thirty-eighth post in the Entire Kitchen Sink blog series.

Ernie and His Uncle Sid (1992) #1 by Bud Grace

Of all the odd things Kitchen Sink was publishing around this time, this is one of them.

Because it seems like such a throwback book — it’s printed on newsprint, and the cover has a design that harkens back to the early Underground comix era. Perhaps that’s the point — it’s a nostalgic exercise?

It’s also odd that there’s only one issue of this, because Ernie was pretty popular at the time? It was really funny back then. It was really wild and strange and didn’t rely on the same repetetive schticks that it does these days. (Or did Grace finally stop doing the strip?)

That’s a solid joke.

This book has both dailies and Sunday pages, and the Sundays have better jokes, but the dailies have fun storylines.

Reprinting the strips this way may not make much economical sense, but it works well as a comic book. Since the strip is so dense, this is just about the right length for a collection of Ernie strips.

But I guess they came to the conclusion that it would be better to reprint the strip as real books, so that bookstores could carry them. And reading this book made me want to start reading the collections, and good news! Bud Grace has started self-publishing complete chronological collections! It looks like it’s print-on-demand from Amazon (boo!), but I think I’ll get the first collection, at least, and see what they’re like.

This is the one hundred and thirty-seventh post in the Entire Kitchen Sink blog series.

Blood Club (1992) by Charles Burns

This was apparently originally serialised in alternative weeklies in the 80s?

But here it’s in colour, and printed on super shiny paper, so everything looks inhumanely sharp.

It’s a simpler story than the previous Big Baby story (which was originally printed by Raw as a one-shot), and it’s a lot more straightforward.

Big Baby goes to summer camp and encounters a ghost and that’s pretty much it, as far as the plot goes. But Burns manages to make every page so creepy that it’s a thrill to read — even if it’s a slight let-down after finishing the book.

Fantastic stuff.

Wow, that’s a perfect Tintin homage… Hm… they list four books there. Curse of the Molemen we’ve covered earlier, but I don’t think Kitchen Sink ever got around to reprinting Teen Plague? And… Mondo Xeno? I’ve never heard of that.

Let googling commence:

Right:

I’ve always suspected they were to be forthcoming entries in the series, but never happened before KS went under! My guess is Teen Plague would have been a reprint of the tale from Raw V2N1, only in color, and I’m unclear about Mondo Xeno, which could have been all new or even a comp of previously uncollected stories, but again, with color!

EDIT: I also now recall that Big Baby was a syndicated strip that appeared in various free weekly’s around the country. The other two books may have been uncollected tales, as I seem to recall that may have actually been how I first saw Teen Plague!

Seems likely. Perhaps Mondo Xeno was a working title for that story about those alien worshippers?

Wow, there are some awesome early Burns things on that I can’t recall seeing before?

Heh heh.

So much great stuff here…

But back to Blood Club. It was nominated for two Harveys.

The Comics Journal #158, page 90:

This full-color comic by Charles Burns is the • •newest
edition in a brilliant series of picture storybmks loved
by children (and praised by parents) all over the
ghost story which hones in on the tat» yet traditional
features of the all-American summer camp experience
and features Bums famous character, Big Baby. Burns
fans will note that a version of this story has appeared
in serialized format in various alternative neuspapers.
This particular tale is rife with pre-pubescent squir-
miness and revolves around Big Baby’s edgy romance
with the forbidden and the unknown. The eerie nar-
rative becomes more •extreme when coupled with
Burns’ drawing, which has a razor-like quality infus-
ed with a retro ’50s look. The overall effect is both
macabre and stylish.
It’s a good story and an equally good scare. You
never heard this one around the campfire, and prob-
ably never will.

This is the one hundred and thirty-sixth post in the Entire Kitchen Sink blog series.