I’ll be up front. I hate “comix.” Misspelling the name of your medium to gain attention is the aesthetic equivalent of tattooing your forehead or piercing your unmentionables. So why did I buy this conspicuously indie publication? Because I wanted to give “comix” a second chance. Maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe there are interesting possibilities open to this sub-genre. Maybe the Titanic will pull into port tomorrow.  

There’s a fantastic old Calvin and Hobbes strip where Calvin’s dad regales him with a story of how escalators were charming and different in the olden days. The strip ends with Calvin fearing that his own experiences may one day become pointless anecdotes. I was reminded of that strip during every panel of Books with Pictures. It’s not that writer/artist Sina Grace isn’t talented. In fact, he’s pretty clever. He knows how to manipulate imagery in place of language, and wittily satirizes some of the more obvious absurdities of mainstream comics (“People do know Gamebit’s gay, right?” she quips, looking at a picture of Gambit).

The problem is, there’s not enough interesting material here to warrant a comic book. Certainly not enough to spend three dollars on. Books with Pictures is a slice-of-life story about working in a comic book shop. Unfortunately, the life that’s being cut into pieces isn’t all that interesting. The heroine works at a comic book store, argues with her boyfriend, etc. If I were effete, I’d add haughtily comment on the author’s courage to show the boring, routine reality of life. If this is courage, it’s never been so dull.

Comic books are about imagination and escapism. Enough of contemporary fiction, be it written, televised or filmed, is obsessed with the commonplace. American culture can’t stomach Symbolism, but we can sure as hell pound down the pedestrian. In that sense, Books with Pictures isn’t anything new, rebellious or revolutionary—it’s one more drop in a bucket of stagnant water.

Worth the money? …do I even need to say this…