Stuck Rubber Baby
(Paradox Press/DC)
graphic novel
by Howard Cruse
Rating:
, Content:
NOTE: I wrote the original version of this review when Stuck Rubber Baby
was first released in hardcover. DC has since released a paperback version for
a bargain $14.00 cover price, available through the usual comic-shop channels
from DC, and marketed to mainstream bookstores by HarperCollins.
I've never been the sentimental type; I get bored at weddings and funerals,
I tend to take both tragedies and celebrations in stride. But this book
brought me to tears... and laughter. It's that good.
I don't buy hardcover "graphic novels", either. I think the term is
pretentious, and I figure it's silly to pay extra money for the snob appeal
of a thick cardboard cover. But my appreciation for Cruse's past work (the
underground Barefootz, the wonderful "gays next door" comic strip Wendel, and
editing the original Gay Comix) and the years of waiting since he last
released anything, prompted me to shell out the $25 for this book, rather
than waiting for a possible TPB. While I don't regret taking that plunge,
those with more patience have been rewarded with a softcover reprint at
almost half off. DC is pricing it to sell.
Unlike most "graphic novels"
(really just collections of several comic book issues pretending to be something
greater), Stuck Rubber Baby lives up to the pretense. It tells a story
far too complex (in both characterisation and plot) to be dismissed as "short
story" (which is what most GNs really are). And the story is very well served
by the graphic format; by showing (rather than telling) much of the story, Cruse
gives it an immediacy that plain text cannot achieve, and the narrative captions
give it a thoughtful intimacy that moving pictures rarely accomplish.
The book is divided into chapters, but it didn't need to be. I certainly didn't
use them as "break" points. I read it cover to cover, putting it down only
by biological necessity. (It took the better part of an afternoon... you won't
breeze through this in half an hour.) My boyfriend read it before I had a chance.
He picked it up late one night, and didn't go to bed until he'd finished, even
though this meant saying up into the "wee hours", way past his usual bed time.
(He's more literary than I, and less taken with comics. He said it was one of
the best books he'd read in some time.)
The cover of Stuck Rubber Baby is a crowd of people. You can tell from the composition
which one is Toland Polk, the protagonist of the story, but the rest are just
a tossed salad of faces: a heavy bald black man, a young white woman in
cat eye glasses, a handsome black young man, a middle-aged white priest, etc.
But when I finally put the book down and looked at the cover again, I
realised that I really knew each of these people! That's Ginger! There
are Melanie and Orly! That's Mabel, and Effie... and Shiloh... and Toland's
parents... I found I could easily identify nearly every person... I mean "character"...
as I worked my way toward the back of the (imaginary) scene. (On the book itself,
the title covers the upper-left quarter of the picture. I was glad to finally see the
whole thing in the solicitation in Previews.)
Cruse's art is somewhat paradoxical, especially in Stuck Rubber Baby.
It has always been
rather cartoony, with oversized jaws, disproportionate limbs, etc. That's
still true (though less so than in his "comic" work), but Cruse has developed
a style which includes painstaking detail at the same time. One look at the
carefully crosshatched shading on each page will make it clear why this book
was nearly 5 years in the making. (And yet it looks nothing like the "hot"
art which has given crosshatching such a bad name.) The only drawback of
this is that, reduced for printing, it tends to get kind of dense and dark.
In the acknowledgements at the end of the book, Cruse thanks various people
for providing him with "period" reference material for cars, vacuum cleaners,
gas pumps, etc. and it's not surprising, because the visuals ring true, and
are so carefully well done.
I'm sure that some will dismiss Stuck Rubber Baby, unread, as a
"propaganda" piece that's
just trying to convince people that it's OK to be gay, or that homophobia
and racism are equally bad. But if anything, Cruse's message is more mixed
and subtle. The issues are not the same, but are intertwined in complex
ways. Cruse shows that through Toland Polk, a white Southerner who
struggles to accept and understand himself while becoming aware of the
evil of the racism that surrounds him.
Stuck Rubber Baby isn't perfect, of course. The subject matter of
the book (a gay man coming to grips with his sexuality) isn't all that new
anymore (at least not to those of us who've been reading gay lit over the
past decade or two). But the
way Cruse intertwines the story with the tale of a Southern town coming to
grips with the civil rights movement makes it fresh and involving. Also,
the last few pages kind of went over my head... but then, like I said before,
sentimental imagery often doesn't work for me.
Actually, my biggest complaint is that the book isn't bigger. The pages
are about an inch shorter than a standard comic book. I suspect it was
originally intended to be printed in larger proportions, but was reduced
somewhat to keep the paper costs down. It's a shame, because the art would
look better closer to full size. But if the alternative were an even higher
price tag... well, I'd pay it, but I can understand why many people would
be scared off.
Now, If my review here and my recommendation don't make you rush out to buy
this book, perhaps the names of comics geniuses Stephen Bissette, Will
Eisner, Scott McCloud, and Harvey Pekar (whose endorsements helped Cruse
get the funds to finish this project) will mean more to you. Or (for those
more familiar with gay literature) Tony Kushner, Harvey Fierstein, Martin
Duberman, Armistead Maupin, and Randy Shilts. These people know what they're
talking about.
Years ago, before DC launched Vertigo and long before Paradox Press, DC gave
the go-ahead for Stuck Rubber Baby. Everyone (include Cruse) was
skeptical that "the House of Superman" had room for something this challenging
and unique. I'm glad it did.
Tired of artificial X-angst? Disappointed by trendy Vertigo lesbians?
Concerned that multi-culturalism in comics is being cancelled with half of
the Milestone line? Pick up Stuck Rubber Baby. You won't regret it.
P.S. Yes, "Stuck Rubber Baby" does mean something... it's not
just a clever bit of marketing babble or the name of the latest "alternative"
band. No, I won't explain it. {grin}
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