Superhero books don't have the market cornered on crap. Take Trosper for example. Really indy stuff like this - by master surrealist Jim Woodring - doesn't usually make the racks in ye olde comicke booke store. You have to order it special, sight unseen.Based on the rantings and ravings of pretentious underground comix lovers just like me, I ordered it. After all, I'd enjoyed Woodring's Frank comics. Operative words are: Sight unseen.
Turns out Trosper is an extremely brief read. Pleasant enough to look at, but completely wordless. That wouldn't be too bad if it had more than 18 FREAKIN' PANELS!!! It comes with a jazz CD by Bill Frisell, so maybe there's more to this little hardcover comic. And again, the CD is pleasant enough, sounding to my ear like the Rheostatics tuning up in reverse (they're my favorite band - much is forgiven on that basis). But clocking in at only 6 minutes or so, it still can't even be listened to in time with the reading of the book! It's a 15-second read!
The story? It's about a little elephant who's playing with a ball, when things go awry and he gets chased by Woodring's trademark vaginas and penises until he finds another ball...
So I guess it's about the Child going through Puberty and Sexual Development (all of which makes you Emo), then finding the Inner Child again as one grows Old and loses one's Libido. (Us pretentious Fanboys think things are more profound when they start with capital letters... or more Profound, at any rate.)Bottom line? Here's what I paid for it*:
And that content/price ratio, my friends, is why I have to call bullshit on Trosper.*I'm Canadian.
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