The Comics Journal

The 18 artists tasked with adapting these personal accounts into visual stories were faced with the unusual challenge of illustrating lengthy prose pieces which lack any kind of dramatic visual arc, while at the same time preserving the voice and spirit of the original work.  Each artist essentially had to take Terkel’s material and further filter it, breaking apart long passages of exposition into panels and captions (often large chunks of narrative), deciding what to keep and what to discard.  The success of this distillation process varies significantly from one piece to the next, with some artists transforming their oral histories into something new and exciting, while others struggled, diluting and weakening the authenticity of the original piece.

These varied results are typical of comics anthologies, but on the whole, Working includes significantly more hits than misses.  In general, the longer adaptations are the strongest, as the increased page count allows more of Terkel’s original writing to be presented.  In addition, given the conversational nature of Terkel’s prose, the less chopping and breaking apart of text, the easier it is for readers to “hear” the various voices.  The first clear highlight in the book is the 14-page “Roberto Acuna, Farmworker,” illustrated by Dylan A. T. Miner and adapted by Pekar.  Miner’s sparse illustrations, which are based on “Mixtec codices” (phonetic pictures which the Mixtec tribes used to record their history and genealogies on deerskin in the ‘fold-book’ form”) may appear simplistic and childish at first, but the carefully thought-out imagery is rich with symbols and visual metaphors.  It is a fitting (and fascinating) application of a little seen visual style (at least to most comics readers) that transforms Acuna’s descriptions of the grueling work of migrant farm laborers in “the California salad fields” into a wholly original masterpiece of cultural heritage.

adapted by Harvey Pekar and drawn by Dylan A. T. Miner

Peter Kuper’s adaptation of “Bill Talcott,” a community organizer in rural Kentucky who represents strip-mine workers’ rights, is another standout.  Talcott’s philosophical ramblings are fascinating (e.g. “The problem with history is that it’s written by college professors about great men … That’s not what history is.  History is a hell of a lot of little people getting together and deciding they want a better life for themselves and their kids”).  His off-the-cuff platitudes touch on the struggles of the working class, the shifting priorities of the middle class, and the general apathy and defeatism that permeates both.  In adapting this piece, Kuper created some stunningly imaginative page designs.  Relying on thick, scratchy black lines, sharp angles and symmetrical layouts, Kuper’s 12-page interpretation is a visual feast, less sequential art than a symbolic exploration of the story’s underlying themes.

adapted and drawn by Peter Kuper

Sabrina Jones’ adaptation of “Roberta Victor” is also an exceptional snapshot of an extraordinary woman (Jones also provides the excellent portrait of Terkel that graces the book’s cover).  Victor’s story, subtitled “Hooker,” is a bleak, heartbreaking yet unforgettable glimpse into the taboo profession of sex workers through the eyes of a female prostitute and heroin addict.  Although it seemingly has little in common with Kuper’s story, Jones’ artwork shares many of the same visual tropes — the thick black brushstrokes, the metaphoric imagery and the open, experimental page layouts.  Victor’s sad narrative, which really showcases Terkel’s remarkable skill at capturing the emotional tenor of his subjects, conveys the bitter depression she feels in recounting her life’s mistakes, even as she struggles to rationalize her decisions (“all I did was act out the reality of American womanhood”).

“Brett Hauser,” the oral history of a teenage supermarket “box boy,” adapted by Pekar and illustrated by Ryan Inzana is another highlight.  In every comics anthology one hopes to discover that ‘hot new artist’ whose aesthetic style is bold and unique, yet whose lack of exposure has kept them under the radar.  In Working, Ryan Inzana is that artist.  While Inzana has published a graphic novel (2003’s Johnny Jihad, NBM), his two adaptations in this book may be the first time many comics readers take notice of his considerable talent.  Inzana’s artwork is bold and expressive, balancing heavy ink lines with characters and settings as distinct as Terkel’s oral account deserves.  His panels are textured and detailed, without feeling cluttered or unbalanced.  The energy on his pages is reminiscent of Paul Pope’s early work (more Doctor Richardson than THB), yet Inzana’s line feels more controlled and assured.  That the artist brings such high quality imagery to bear on one of Terkel’s more mundane oral histories is further evidence of his natural ability at composing visually dynamic panels.  The adaptation itself is also one of the stronger in the book, thanks in large part to Pekar’s careful stewardship, as Hauser, a white, presumably middle-class teenager, describes the sometimes tedious, unglamorous work of filling and schlepping bags of groceries for ungrateful customers.  Hauser’s job was little more than an extracurricular activity, providing a little spending cash to hang out with friends, but all around him were immigrants and lower class people who depended on the work for their livelihood.  Hauser’s descriptions of his co-workers and bosses are sometimes scathing and frequently fascinating, and despite his occasional immaturity, he recognizes his own disdain as a function of his good fortune to be white and privileged (“I guess I had the luxury to hate it and quit.”)

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