Jonathan Ames & Dean Haspiel – The Alcoholic – A Book Review – We Reveal Our Stories By What We Choose Not To Discuss

This is a book review of the graphic novel – “The Alcoholic” written by Jonathan Ames & Dean Haspiel.

I give it 5 out of 5 stars.

This is not a story of redemption.

This is a story of wants.  It is a story of self-absorptions.  This is a story of living with ongoing addictions:  sexual, substance, and self-pleasing.

This is a beautifully drawn graphic novel – a quasi-autobiographical tale of Jonathan Ames, or “Jonathan A” as he is described in the book.

This is not “A Wonderful Life.”  This is not a classic morality tale where the protagonist makes a tranformational epiphany and changes his behaviors.

This is a story of someone who apparently has difficulty putting the wants or needs of others in balance with his own wants.

This is a story of someone who may have trouble conceding or taking into consideration all of the real consequences of his individual actions.

This is a story of someone who finds value in displaying behaviors most people would prefer to hide.

It’s difficult to determine if Jonathan A has remorse or repentance.  If he does, he is not eager to make it as visible as he is eager to make visible his supposed “sins.”

The graphic novel’s visual storytelling is efficient and effective.  There is no lack of clarity in conveying the author’s intent through the artist’s illustrations.  The draftsmanship and professionalism of the artist Dean Haspiel is highly admirable.

Why are people so fascinated with illustrations of debauchery and cruelty?  This concept is nothing new.  Consider the 18th Century artist William Hogarth’s incredibly good and informative serialized illustrations.  His illustrations came to mind while I was considering this book.

Is it as important to study and see the “sinners” as it is to study and see the “saints?”

For all of Jonathan A’s exhibitionism of his “weaknesses,” it’s interesting to consider what he chooses not to discuss or share about his potential faults.  In this graphic novel, he speaks fondly of all of his ex’s, but he never takes the time (at least in this graphic novel) to as plainly concede his own traits, traits that several of his ex’s may have objected to in common.

His remorse appears to be more:  “I’m sorry I was not good enough for you, or not what you wanted.”  His remorse does not appear to be:  “I’m sorry I was unwilling to make many of the significant changes that would have been needed to become a person with whom you could rely on and happily co-exist.”

What we don’t see much of in the novel are admissions by Jonathan A that it wasn’t just “a blond hair on the pillow” that led to his loves leaving him.  More realistically, his loves probably regularly saw many of his patterns that would have been consistently detrimental to being in a trusting and depending long-term relationship.  And in this story, Jonathan A probably chose not to more honestly tell the order of events in clear ways that would show what were the more likely substantive and causal reasons for his past lovers leaving.

It’s one thing for a person to say:  “I’m an alcoholic,” or “I like to do things my own way,” or “I like cocaine.”  But it would be more honest, intelligent, and telling for an addict to say plainly:  “I like each of these things more than the loves I lost.”   Jonathan A does not take the time to say the latter through dialogue.  But his actions, his visual narrative, and the illustrator’s excellent work could imply it.  It is not a clear implication, and I don’t know if the latter is true, but it is an important question to ask in a memoir that focuses so much on “relationships lost.”

Such an admission would be more honest than Jonathan A’s repeated recollections of:  I was abandoned, and I never received a very good explanation why.

For anyone who has loved an addict, someone who loved an inconsiderate or self-destructive habit more than they loved the people closest to them, there may be less admiration for an addict’s notorious display of the consequences of their selfish decisions, warts and all.  I’m a strong proponent of self-admission of faults, but more so when the admissions are fully honest.

I admire this graphic novel as a work of art.  I admire the illustrator Dean Haspiel far more than I admire the writer, but I admire them both.  I cannot fault the book’s quality simply because I disagree with the life choices of the autobiographer.

Even exhibitionists can hide certain faults.  And in reading any autobiography, a reader can learn as much about the person by what the author clearly avoids discussing.

I can sympathize with Jonathan’s longings for many of his past loves.  And Jonathan paints each of them mostly with positive strokes.  But Jonathan never faces the more significant question of:  If that person came back into my life, would I be willing to do the many things they would want from another person in a long term relationship?  I think Jonathan’s answer to that question is knowingly, but not easily:  “No.”

Another potential omission is Jonathan A’s apparently deficient ability to empathize with his lovers, his parents, and his relatives.  But I’m not sure if Jonathan A even knows he may have underdeveloped abilities to empathize.  So it’s difficult for me to fault him for what he may not realize and for what he may have a natural inability for.  Additionally, the alcohol and drugs may further deter his abilities to empathize.

Therefore, I found little laughter in his follies.  Yet I can still empathize with his losses.

This is still a great graphic novel.  It doesn’t set out to “teach something” through what it says, but it still teaches volumes to anyone smart enough to read into all the things the author chose not to dialogue.

Some people are addicts because, after all their experience and analysis, they still prefer the feedback they receive from their addictive habits.  Some people are addicts because they cannot overcome the chemical, mental, and physical draws of their addictions.  But part of the trouble is that it is almost impossible to decipher one addictive drive from the other, and the drives often exist simultaneously.

I give this graphic novel 5 out of 5 stars for all of the things this graphic novel does extremely well.

This book is potentially honest.  But a more important and revealing question is:  For all of the story’s candor, what is still being omitted and unaddressed?  And if the novel had faced and discussed more of those operative concerns, I would have liked it even more.

- – - -

Most Recent Artworks   All the Artists’ Artworks Index   my43things