GRAPHIC FICTION:
Mister Wonderful, By Daniel Clowes, Jonathan Cape, 80pp. £14.99
SINCE THE EARLY 1990s there has been a trend in American comics that one might loosely call literary, as its practitioners create works reminiscent of literary fiction. They are reflective and naturalistic, emphasising character over action and often expressing a jaded or tragic view of human nature.
Daniel Clowes has long been a leader of this trend, though not by pushing himself forwards so much as by setting an example that other artists were eager to follow. For 15 years he serialised both long and short stories in his comic-book series Eightball, establishing his reputation as a master cartoonist, a cynical observer of human weakness and an audaciously experimental storyteller.
No two Daniel Clowes graphic novels are alike: the bizarre and surreal Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Ironis nothing like the melancholy Ghost World, which is nothing like the blisteringly cynical Wilson. Even though his visual style is distinctive and immediately recognisable, it is versatile and constantly evolving, and even though his attitude and preoccupations remain much the same as they were in 1989, when the first Eightballwas published, each new work by Clowes reveals something new, something he has never done before. In Mister Wonderful, the new thing to be found is absolutely the last thing I was expecting from Clowes: a romantic comedy.
Mister Wonderfulrecords a little over 12 hours in the life of Marshall, a middle-aged divorcee who's been set up on a blind date by his friends. As he waits for his date to arrive we overhear his interior monologue, which is anxious, self-deprecating and full of frantic rehearsals of the things he needs to say.
In some ways Marshall is a typical Clowes protagonist: cynical, world-weary, suspicious of the trappings of modern life. But agreeing to a blind date is an optimistic act, and even though Marshall isn’t entirely sure about this hope thing, he’s willing to give it a try.
What follows is a roller coaster of a night, with Marshall’s feelings see-sawing between the heights of joy and the depths of despair. Natalie, his date, is an hour late: despair! Then she arrives, and is attractive and pleasant: joy! Then he goes to the bathroom, and when he comes back she’s gone: despair! Wait, she’s just outside talking on her mobile phone: joy! And so on, for the entire night.
Marshall’s attitude doesn’t help. If anything, he makes matters worse by constantly fantasising both glorious and disastrous futures for himself and Natalie, his mind wandering off until he’s forcibly brought back to reality.
Clowes hasn't gone entirely soft: there's still evidence of his old venom in certain scenes, particularly when Marshall and Natalie go to a party at a rich couple's house – but Mister Wonderfulis a decidedly warm-hearted story.
Marshall’s internal monologue alternates between self-deprecation and self-justification, and often intrudes so far into the world as to block out the speech bubbles of the people who are talking, as if to signal that Marshall is not truly paying attention to them.
Yet despite being terribly caught up in his own fears, Marshall still notices the people around him. And although he’s short-tempered and not always honest, he’s got a solid core of decency that makes it impossible not to root for him.
As you might expect from Clowes, Mister Wonderfulis an unconventional romance. Its hero and heroine are not young or beautiful or high-born or glamorous, and the story doesn't begin with glances across a crowded room or end with wedding bells. Marshall and Natalie are two damaged people tentatively reaching out, so acutely aware of the dangers involved that they almost pull away before their hands can touch.
The result is a story that tugs on the heart strings all the more for doing so unexpectedly. Mister Wonderfulis funny, charming and thoroughly delightful, a joy to read from start to finish.
Katherine Farmar is a freelance writer and editor. She blogs about comics and the other arts at katherinefarmar.com