Clowes offers another beautifully drawn slice of piercing social commentary. This attitude of solipsistic despair is expressed incisively and cleverly, taking Wilson through a search for his ex-wife, Pippi, who has become a prostitute since leaving him, and their daughter, put up for adoption years earlier. Magazine and asking, “Christ, do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” Clearly, the comment is directed as much at himself as to the I.T. Theres some new Daniel Clowes original art, about a dozen preliminary sketches, including both published and unpublished 'New Yorker' covers. The last panel shows Wilson looking at a Spirit stuff,” Wilson comes back at him with a mockingly satirical description of his own supposed work, using only initials.

In one sketch titled “FL 1282,” Wilson asks the kid seated next to him on a plane about his line of work. Clowes uses a variety of drawing styles to depict Wilson and his world sometimes he's highly realistic, other times he's an Andy Capp–style cartoon, but he's always the same downbeat guy. Despite what he may think, Wilson is Wilson's own worst enemy.) takes his particular brand of misanthropic misery to new levels of brilliance in this book, a series of one-page gags that show the divorced and lonely main character repeatedly attempting to engage with life, and then falling back into his hell of pessimism. The cumulative result is a profound, searing study of unconnected single male yearning for a human connection, but completely devoid of the skills needed to make it happen. Like legendary Mad magazine cartoonist Will Elder (one of Clowes's heroes), Clowes devotes himself completely to his concept, seeing it through to the end of Wilson's sad story. As the story progresses, the punch lines become less predictable and more affecting, such as the moment he comes across the baseball diamond where he used to play with his estranged (and late) father and suddenly collapses, sobbing, 'Oh Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.' Clowes repurposes the lowly format, playing on the set-up/punch-line formula to deliver his brand of dark humour and heartbreaking humanism.įor example, in the early pages, Wilson gets all the good 'punch lines,' profanely scolding anyone who dares to challenge him (or, say, fail to compliment his dog). One-page gag comics are, with rare exceptions, predictable, unfunny and forgettable.

(The concept is carried over into the cover design and end pages, which look a lot like a 1950s collection of gag cartoons.) The choice is clever and restrained, and succeeds on numerous levels. Wilson eventually forces all three to reconnect as a familya doomed mission that will surely, inevitably backfire. Wilson is designed as a collection of 71 standalone strips that shift styles (from carefully rendered realism to 'big-nose' cartoony mode and Harvey Comics house-style) yet retain their focus squarely on the egotistical main man.

Wilson by daniel clowes