Abe: Wrong for all the Right Reasons
By Glenn Dakin
Published by Top Shelf Productions
Here is a modest little collection that snuck up on me and worked its way into my head until, finally, I had to admit that it's a much more serious work than it first appears.
From the breezy cover illustration to the early story titled "Captain Oblivion," a quick glance seemed to indicate that this was a lighhearted, simple little book. I had never seen Dakin's work before, but the looseness of the illustration and the seeming lightness of the subject matter had me wondering about Eddie Campbell's claim in the introduction that Dakin was a serious influence on his work. How, I wondered, could these doodlings have influenced the man who created the wondrous and revelatory Alec: How to be an Artist graphic novel?
Then I sat down and actually read the thing. And read it. And read it. In fact, I couldn't stop reading it.
Most of the reading I did over the weekend was Abe. I didn't sit and read it straight through (although I will, and soon); rather, when I had five minutes here or ten minutes there I would flop down and look at the reading stack. Yes, there's the new book on cities by James Howard Kunstler, one of my favourite writers. Yes, there's the copy of Alan Moore's Voice of the Fire that I beat fellow bidder Chris Ryall to buy on eBay. I read the first chapter a week back and realized this was going to be weighty reading. I hope Chris was able to find another copy, and I do mean to dig deeper into the book soon; stuff keeps getting in the way, though. Stuff like Abe. As I returned to this volume again and again, I would flip through and pick an interesting chapter and read it. Most are two or three pages in length, so it didn't take much time. I thought, somewhere, I'd see what Campbell was on about in his introduction. And eventually, I did. I see it, Eddie. I get it. Dakin's work seems light and fluffy on the outside, but he is probing the deep depths of what it is to be human in these sketchy little cartoons. He touches a nerve, and the sensation lingers whether you expect it to or not. The effect is not altogether unlike the stories of James Kochalka, although Dakin's perspective is distinctly his own.
In "Atlantis," Abe and a friend discuss the legendary ancient civilization, with humourous references to Magneto and the Sub-Mariner, but suddenly, without warning, Dakin hits us with some hard truths about what happens to friendships when childhood friends become responsible adults.
"Abraham Rat Becomes Suddenly Rich" investigates the possibility most people daydream about at least once a day: Having enough money to satisfy your every whim for the rest of your days. Dakin's exploration of Abe's windfall is both convincing and hilarious.
In "Two Storms," Abe reflects on the weather in what essentially is a prose poem with illustrations; by the end, you're longing to travel to Scotland just like Abe.
Travel is a recurring theme here, and obviously something Dakin has done a lot of. If travel expands the consciousness, Dakin means to share the wealth with his work. Life is something he obviously ponders, but perhaps from a bit of a distance, and with a wonderfully dry sense of humour. Abe takes you many different places, from Atlantis to the end of the rainbow, but Dakin is there every step of the journey to show you the sights and share a laugh. Abe is filled with charm and wonder, and takes you outside yourself to see the world through a different set of eyes. In that way, it's a lot like the travel Dakin and Abe do so much of. It's a journey well worth taking.