Kim
Deitch,
Alias the Cat! (Pantheon, 2007).
$27.00. hardcover.
By
Hillary
Chute

Kim Deitch—a key
player in the underground comix scene of the 1960s
and 70s—has long been one of cartooning’s greatest
talents. He is also one of contemporary comics’ least
recognized avatars (at least in terms of mainstream
appreciation of his work). Now we have a book that
could help change his status as a simply a
cartoonist’s cartoonist and place him more firmly on
the A-list of literary
comics. Alias the
Cat!, his latest
offering, is published by Pantheon’s graphic novels
division, like Deitch’s The Boulevard of
Broken Dreams, which came out in
2002. (In his significant survey piece in
the New York Times
Book Review on comics in that
same year, Nick Hornby wrote that Boulevard
was
“ambitious, surreal and occasionally baffling,” and
praised Deitch’s drawings as comparable to Crumb’s in
their “feverish, angry energy.”)
The digest-sized Alias the
Cat! collects three
stories that were first published as individual comic
books by Fantagraphics, called The Stuff of
Dreams!. (Fantagraphics
also published Shadowland,
a long, lovingly-printed, large-format Deitch
collection, in 2006.) The cumulative effect of
reading the linked stories consecutively here under
one (quite gorgeous) cover is that Deitch’s sheer
skill as a fabulist becomes dazzlingly apparent.
There are literally stories within stories within
stories, yet even the tripled narratives—because of
Deitch’s craft—feel light instead of arduous.
(However, I’ll quote one memorable line from the
text: “this whole unwinding web of wild story had me
totally by the mental balls”). He is an
old-fashioned storyteller—a
spinner of yarns—a quality that may strike one as
refreshing, given that a large body of contemporary
comics work is now nonfiction, revolves around
self-musing, and can sometimes feel, perhaps,
boring—or, worse, as someone recently pointed out to
me, troublesomely disconnected from history. We have
comics about trips to the coffee shop.
Alias
the Cat! is neither boring
nor, significantly, disconnected from history. But it
is also, interestingly enough, not a book that
eschews the self: the main characters are a
cartoonist named Kim and his wife Pam (the name of
Deitch’s real-life wife). Hornby’s smartest point
about Boulevard
is that
it beautifully melds the personal and the cultural.
He wrote: “What is particularly impressive is the way
that Deitch juggles the personal—his artist hero is
plagued by a cartoon demon that simultaneously
inspires and destroys him—and the cultural dimensions
of his narrative: his book is just as much about the
neutering and Disneyfication of animation as it is
about the self-destructiveness of genius.” Yet while
Hornby correctly identifies the entwining of the
personal and cultural in Boulevard,
in that text the artist hero is an animator named Ted
Mishkin. Alias the
Cat! ups the intimacy,
going one step further into shades of
autobiography.
But only shades. Deitch himself may enter more
explicitly into the story’s weave here, offering up
the trials and tribulations of the artist hero “Kim
Deitch,” but it’s all in service of an intricately
layered, wildly inventive tale that consistently
blurs fact and fiction, past and present, realism and
surrealism. (An ageless, obnoxious, randy blue
talking cat named Waldo is a recurring
character). Alias the
Cat! is a wonderfully
self-reflexive book that is about comics, about
authorship, about artistic inspiration, and about
collecting remnants of the past, and it toys with its
readers constantly to achieve this deliberately
unstable register, incorporating aspects of
straight-up nonfiction (a letters section; fake ad
pages addressed to readers that provide full contact
information). I found myself so convinced and
fascinated by Deitch’s fabricated histories—his
accounts of political goings-on in New Jersey towns
in the early part of the twentieth century, for
instance—that I had to look the towns up just to
confirm to myself that they do not, and never have,
existed. Yet some of Deitch’s histories—his
descriptions of old photoplay stars, for instance—are
indeed factual (and informative). As the narrator Kim
writes in the book’s conclusion, “That’s the wild
beauty of this comics thing. I can re-create
the world my
way!
Half-remembered, half-imagined.”
Ultimately, that idea is the anchor of
Alias the
Cat!, a book that
is about
new and
old forms of entertainment media, and which happens
to showcase what comics can do especially well. With
his meticulously detailed panels; fluid, rounded
line; and chatty, straightforward narrative voice,
Deitch creates a unique visual and verbal world that
feels so persuasive that its leaps into the
supernatural enhance rather than disrupt its hold.
Further, he makes conspicuous use of the form of
comics to enact the graphic juxtaposition, or
blending, of past and present, as when he shifts
seamlessly from the present to the past and back
again across the panels of a single page, moving us
around in time. And yet he also points up another
crucial aspect of comics form: its ability to double
its narratives. In one ongoing chunk of the book,
Deitch draws two discrete, serial narratives that
unfold together on each page: his own present-day
quest to seek out information in newspapers from 1915
in black, and the 1915 newspaper comic strip
Alias the
Cat! drawn in a muted
green. (This well-realized strip is Deitch’s own
creation, but is presented as the fruits of his
research, illustrated by one Moll Barkeley). These
riveting pages literally, spatially contain multiple
narratives, and the reader flows easily, with
pleasure, through the various temporalities and
visions Deitch conjures up. In his thick, busy, but
purposeful and graceful pages, Deitch shows us the
full capacity of comics to be—to draw on a phrase
from the first page of book—“the odd and beautiful.”
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