August 8, 2010
Jaime Hernandez Is Still The Man
Twenty years ago, the summer of 1990, I must have read "The Death Of Speedy Ortiz" something like 85 times. No joke. Over and over again, in that crappy apartment on the bus line that my DUI made a necessity, in between walking to the grocery store or that rare sojourn to a movie theater to see Ford Fairlane
or Exorcist 3
. Every single goddamn time, "Death of Speedy" made me swoon.
Of the artists that meant the world to me when I was young enough that lots of artists meant the world to me, Jaime Hernandez is the only one I know of that can still kill me dead with his newest and latest. Your mileage may vary, but Jaime's three-part story in the latest Love and Rockets
brought to mind the same sweep of romance and regret and pursuit of all that's sweet in life as much as battered and broken insides allow that I remember all too well from the summer between my junior and senior years in college, when I would have put everything about my wonderful life on hold to climb into a black and white comic book for a little while. There are three or four panels in this newest effort worth some cartoonists' entire careers.
The more I think about it, the more I believe the solution to everything people find dissatisfying about Comic-Con International is that we drop all the nonsense we've been doing to please ourselves to focus on making that the best weekend imaginable for the Hernandez Brothers, for they are truly remarkable and we can hardly claim to deserve them.
posted 9:49 pm PST
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