Every time I read a graphic novel, I become keenly aware of yet another vast area of culture that I am largely oblivious of.
This clever, self-referential, beautiful book is a kind of fictionalised biography of a graphic novelist, as written by… himself. It’s also a mystery, since he has actually disappeared, and clues are pieced together in interviews with his family. There’s text, photostrips, and many comic strips. There are appearances from historical figures from literature, music and other arts. God is also a minor character. There’s a lot in this book — while reading it I had the same feeling I get when talking with a bunch of smart people. I learned some things, I saw things from a different viewpoint, and I had a lot of fun. And that is what I call a really good book.