Even if you don鈥檛 know his name, chances are you鈥檙e familiar with Robert Crumb鈥檚 cartoon art聽鈥 that scritchy-scratchy, overly rendered linework adorned with masterful cross-hatching that creates unparalleled texture and shadow.
Maybe you鈥檝e encountered his myriad creations: horny feline Fritz the Cat; those 鈥淜eep on Truckin鈥欌 dudes with the elongated left legs; that 鈥淪toned Agin!鈥 poster with the melting hippie; the domineering Devil Girl, her thighs thick as tree trunks; or the voluminously bearded Zen master Mr. Natural.
Perhaps you鈥檝e come across his numerous New Yorker covers and interior strips, or his collaborations with 鈥淎merican Splendor鈥 crank Harvey Pekar.
“Crumb: A Cartoonist’s Life,” by Dan Nadel.
Maybe you鈥檝e seen the man himself: that scrawny, bespectacled weirdo in a cardigan and fedora, with a perpetually nervous mien.
Or perhaps you鈥檝e watched the award-winning 1994 documentary 鈥淐rumb,鈥 which examined the artist鈥檚 neuroses, peccadillos and obsessions 鈥 the latter revolving mostly around sex and old-timey jazz records 鈥 when it wasn鈥檛 training its lens on his fascinatingly dysfunctional family.
In the 30 years since the film鈥檚 release, much has transpired in the life of the man many consider to be one of the greatest comics artists 鈥 or, just simply, artists 鈥 of our time. And Dan Nadel鈥檚 new biography, 鈥淐rumb: A Cartoonist鈥檚 Life,鈥 traces it in remarkable, forensic detail: his love life, his drug intake, his finances and, most important, his extraordinary body of work.
In his book excerpt we meet the comics legend in his childhood, as his explores his obsession with cartooning, and a new fixation begins to bloom.
In his book excerpt we meet the comics legend in his childhood, as his explores his obsession with cartooning, and a new fixation begins to bloom.
It鈥檚 the first major biography of the artist 鈥 one created with his full co-operation. As Nadel admits in his introduction: 鈥淩obert imposed just one condition on this book: that I be honest about his faults, look closely at his compulsions, and examine the racially and sexually charged aspects of his work.鈥
Does he ever.
Nadel meticulously details Crumb鈥檚 childhood, starting with a household headed by an abusive military-man father and co-starring a mentally unstable mother, two sisters and a pair of troubled brothers.
When the budding illustrator discovered a 1956 copy of Mad magazine 鈥 drawn to its rude humour and anarchic spirit 鈥 he had an epiphany: this is what he would do with his life. His early professional career found him drawing greeting cards alongside Ziggy creator Tom Wilson and later assisting a pre-Monty Python Terry Gilliam on a humour magazine.
An autographical moment of pubescent awakening from cartoonist Robert Crumb’s 1988 story, “Footsy.”
Courtesy of the artist, R. CrumbCrumb’s own comics were exquisitely rendered, funny and self-flagellating聽鈥 sometimes profound 鈥 a forum where he could air grievances both mundane and imperative, based on a world view shaped by acid. LSD, Nadel writes, 鈥渉ad opened a channel into his subconscious that ushered in ideas whose real meanings were a mystery even to him.鈥
In comic books with titles like 鈥淶ap,鈥 鈥淪natch鈥 and 鈥淯needa,鈥 no personal kink was too outrageous to illustrate. As Nadel convincingly asserts, 鈥淚t took a long time for Robert to realize that women might have some agency in his fetishes 鈥 that they were there for it as much as he was. He was more likely to view women as all sexually 鈥榥ormal鈥 and himself as a creep, thereby satisfying his own self-loathing and need for domination.鈥
鈥淐rumb: A Cartoonist’s Life鈥 also functions as both a travelogue through America鈥檚 鈥60s counterculture and a brilliantly concise history of the underground comics scene that sprang from it, an indie movement that inspired the likes of聽Daniel Clowes, Alison Bechdel and Chester Brown.
It was a time when comics artists first owned their creations, Nadel writes, 鈥渋n some cases controlling the printing and distribution as well.鈥 But Crumb, often struggling for cash, also got burnt by bootleggers who reproduced his work on merchandise without permission or remuneration.
Dan Nadel, author of “Crumb: A Cartoonist’s Life,” is also a museum curator.
Beowulf SheehanNadel excels when critiquing Crumb鈥檚 work, scrutinizing his use of racist tropes that clashed with his otherwise earthy, progressive ideals, and smartly describes the artist’s technique free of jargon. Remarking on the change in style Crumb brought to 鈥淶ap,鈥 Nadel writes, 鈥淩obert was now using a crow quill pen, which allows artists to control their line density, moving from thick to thin in a single stroke, giving weight and drama to objects and scenes by adjusting their pressure on the page.鈥
The author鈥檚 extraordinary access to Crumb and his family and friends also results in some startling passages. Describing one particularly vivid acid trip taken by Crumb and his first wife, Nadel writes, 鈥淒ana felt she was passing through the birth canal. Unfortunately, what she thought was amniotic fluid was Robert vomiting on her.鈥
Lavishly illustrated, with personal photos (thankfully, none from that trip) and numerous examples of his work, 鈥淐rumb鈥 is a terrific biography that just misses being a great one. It鈥檚 let down, as too many books are these days, by lax copy-editing, which invites errors, clich茅s and grammatical mishaps onto the pages.
For one, Industry City is a neighbourhood at the western edge of Brooklyn, not the eastern, something Nadel, a Brooklyn-based museum curator, must know. And a quote from Crumb鈥檚 second wife, Aline, misnaming comedian Joey Bishop as 鈥淛ose,鈥 goes uncorrected.
Cartoonist Robert Crumb attends an exhibition of his work at聽Museum Ludwig in Cologne, Germany, in 2004.聽
Brill/ullstein bild via Getty ImagesComparing the thickness of eyeglasses to Coke bottles once should be verboten; thrice should be illegal. Paragraph-long quotations sometimes go uninterrupted and unattributed. And someone should have caught the dangling modifiers that pop up all too often. (鈥淲ith a new baby to care for, Clayton Street couldn鈥檛 be a hippie crash pad,鈥 Nadel writes, raising the question: how can a road have a child?)
Still, this handsome book belongs on the shelf of all Crumb fans, and anyone curious about the early days of independent publishing will find much to love.
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