I can't remember when I was first made familiar with the work of Harvey Pekar. It was definitely when I was at school - I was big into comic books when I was an adolescent, less so when I was in my late high school years. I think I was still getting X-Men by habit when I was sixteen, but stopped around then.There was a brief era in the late 80s/early 90s (well-documented in Reinventing Comics)
where so-called "comix" were finally getting respect and attention. Or so they said. There were always well-written comics out there with an adult audience in mind, only they started getting reviewed in the NY Times. Harvey had been publishing American Splendor since 1976.Again, can't remember who told me, "hey, you should read this." I'm fairly certain I was already collecting his work before I even knew he was making guest shots on Letterman. He can be a bad influence on a young writer. Harvey's mantra is that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people. And since most of his work is autobiographical, countless writers and artists have used him as a template for their own existential-funny-angst prose. It's an excuse to write about the crap you just took. For a very successful example, see Derf's The City.
One of his techniques is to narrate a story by simply telling it as monologue, with a page or more of images of himself, directly addressing the reader - which I felt was translated pretty well into the film version of American Splendor(see right: click on to enlarge.) In spite of any other solo performance I have ever seen - and I have seen a lot - I think this style, more than any other, had a great impression on my comic art, and on the route I chose to take with I Hate This. I don't know that I would have had the stones to just stand there and flatly state what was going on, and my reaction to it, and feel it was worth saying. I "perform" things a little, but feel much more comfortable just standing there, telling.Thanks, Harvey.
