Lynda Barry, the awesomest

February 4, 2008

In which I find as good a way as any to test my photo importing
Oof! The Motherlode! A big-ass collection of comics by Lynda Barry.  If you don’t know her, you should sort that out. She can be really funny, and she has an eviable memory that captures the strange syntax and logic of childhood better than anyone I know inside of comics or out (in the first strip, for example, dig the rightness of the line “Maybe that it’s a mental institution guy”).

There’s a sadness behind a lot of her stuff that is almost too painful to bear. The story in 100 Demons about how she cut off her childhood friendship with her neighbour (because she was a year younger than her and hanging around with someone a year younger would have marked her out as weird) is so awfully sad that you might need a drink after reading it.

Even if her scratchy penmanship is not to your liking, it’s worth getting beyond it for the wonders within. Reading Lynda Barry is like getting a direct line back to your childhood, and a much cheaper way of doing so than actually having children.

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