Boyd Soloman wants to fly. He's wanted to fly since he was a child. He's
disgusted by humanity because we can't fly. His obsession with joining the
birds is an uncontrollable force in his life, one that sways in and out of
his mind and eventually comes to control his actions. He believes he has his
condition in check, but when the events of a hot Tuscon afternoon come
flooding back into his life, so also does his obsession with flight, leading
him to a balcony on his apartment building with a pair of wings and an
overpowering urge to jump.
That's the broad outline of Brian Biggs' graphic novel Dear Julia,
but the devil sits in the story's details--the beads of sweat on Boyd's
forehead, the loose feathers sitting in his toilet, the empty birdcages that
clutter his apartment. It's a cleverly structured story that flies by (pun
intended)--the book's a real page-turner--and yet there's so much nuance in
the little touches that every re-reading will reveal a new piece to the
puzzle. And every piece of the puzzle takes you a step further into Boyd's
troubled, desperate mind.
Biggs coaxes those details to the forefront with a strict and hypnotic
panel structure of four box panels per page. Only when the narrative briefly
leaves the present does Biggs break the four-panel structure, using a series
of Polaroid photos to illustrate Boyd's fateful trip to Tuscon. Otherwise,
you can easily be lulled into a false sense of speed by the consistent page
layouts. At the same time, the structure can force your eyes to pay close
attention to the events in each panel. There are no size clues to provide
emphasis on particular images. Biggs occasionally draws up some quite
cluttered panels as well, which only further forces you to pay attention to
details.
That's where the story is really told, in the tiny details. The language
and events are so broad that you need to pay close attention to really
understand what's happening--and even if you do, it's still layered with
mysteries. After two readings, I'm still torn on whether Boyd was eventually
able to see his dream come true, or whether he died suffering from extreme
and intense hallucinations of flight. Then again, maybe Biggs' ultimate
point is that either one is still freedom for Boyd from his burden of
desire.
Top Shelf Comix has to be one of the most
consistent indie comix publishers active today. Every book is challenging on
its own terms, and Dear Julia is no exception. It's always great to
encounter a true work of mystery, one that can withstand interpretation,
analysis and multiple readings, and Dear Julia is just such a work, a
deceptively simple graphic novel that yields its secret under close reading
and interpretation. The language is delicate and beautiful, the images are
thickly textured and the story is compelling: the tale of a man who longs to
fly, yet is trapped on the ground by his humanity.