The Name of the Game

It's been an odd month for comics. There's been one week in the last four when a big batch of comics came out at once, and the other three weeks I've had a total of two comics in my saver. Tonight I had none! I know comics publishing is a bit cyclical, but geez!

Still, there's always something I can buy, and tonight it was Will Eisner's latest graphic novel, The Name of the Game. Eisner is the daddy of the modern graphic novel, having been plying his trade longer than almost anyone alive.

Eisner's work isn't to everyone's taste; much of it isn't to mine. His most famous work, the pseudo-detective/adventure/noir series The Spirit does nothing for me, as the light stories' lavish illustrations just seem to bring out the crushing weakness of the writing. Eisner's more recent work appeals to me more, but is still quite varied. Last Day in Vietnam is a set of short vignettes with some of Eisner's least inspired artwork. New York: The Big City is a more effective collection of vignettes both whimsical and profound. Life on Another Planet is an entertaining but somewhat silly tale of a possible contact with aliens and the reaction on Earth. Some of his best-known work I have yet to read, such as To the Heart of the Storm.

But perhaps my reactions to those works are tinged by disappointment, for my first exposure to Eisner was Dropsie Avenue: The Neighborhood, a tour-de-force sequence of linked vignettes about a neighborhood in New York City throughout the 20th century. And in The Name of the Game Eisner again captures the sense of generational angst combined with depth of characterization which hooked me in Dropsie.

Name is the story of the Arnheim family, a German Jewish family in New York City. Making it big in the corset business, Izzy Arnheim left his business to his son, Conrad. The book is largely about Conrad's ability (or lack thereof) to live up to his parents' aspirations, and how his behavior and outlook affects those around him. Several other Jewish families are part of the tale, including the small-time banker Obers, the tragic and destitute Krauses, and the recent lower-class immigrant Kayns.

Whereas Dropsie was a tale of human foibles and eventual redemption in another form, Name is about a family with problems, and which is destined to keep re-living those problems until someone breaks the pattern of behavior which leads to them. Greed, lust and sloth play large parts in the tale, as do people turning away from their dreams, or being unable to dream. At times it is heart-wrenching, though occasionally it's touching. Its ending ultimately feels not entirely satisfying, but not cripplingly so.

Eisner's writing style is primarily characterized by showing how the little things in peoples lives are often hidden from others by the appearance they put on, or by the unwillingness of others to see them. Keeping up appearances is the fundamental theme of Name, and characters who have little interest in doing so have a hard time of it.

Eisner's dialogue is bold and vibrant, but sometimes seems very heavy-handed, and his choice of emphasis is occasionally peculiar (a trait he shares with the late Jack Kirby).

His graphic storytelling ability is undimmed with age, however, and some pages feel like a veritable clinic on how to lead the reader's eye and how to pack a lot of story into a small space, with scene shifts cleverly disguised through use of panel or figure placement and flow of dialogue. Eisner's figures have always looked a little cartoony (I sometimes wonder what he'd look like inked by a strong realist, say a Jerry Ordway), but his layouts and poses balance this quite well, and his depictions of period settings and clothing (often without explicit reference to when a scene takes place) make the story fully believable, despite his faults.

While not as powerful as Dropsie Avenue, The Name of the Game is a powerful and well-told story which is well worth the investment.

To switch gears sharply, today I had an instant message chat with a friend who got laid off last year but managed to land on his feet. He's a good guy, actually quite cheerful, but he somehow manages to dwell on the dark side of things. Not, I think, because he's gloomy (I don't think doing so really gets him down), just because he finds it interesting.

Anyway, ten minutes of chatting about the job market these days got me down, and I didn't realize until tonight how unsettled it made me.

I'm quite grateful to have my job. I like my job, and I doubt I'd be looking to move even in a better economy (after all, I came to my present company during a boom economy). I heard through the grapevine that another friend of mine lost his job just last month. And a few of us the other day were idly wondering what we'd do if we lost our jobs. Not that I think any of us are in danger of it, but I imagine it's something everyone thinks about, when they hear of others losing theirs. "What would I do if it were me?"

So I know, without cause I shouldn't be worrying about it. Especially in the face of people who are actually without jobs and actually dealing with everything I'm worried about.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be over it. It's just been making me feel stressed tonight and I thought writing about it might help a bit.