I recently went to the DMV near my house, which happens to be in the same government center as a big library. My government-mandated waiting room time was relatively quick, so I walked across the building to browse.
It’s been a while since I’ve been to the library, so I decided to wade into the comics section and see what was on offer. I’m still surprised by the sheer variety in graphic formats these days. There are now shelves and shelves of non-superhero comics. (Not that I’m opposed to superhero comics, but it’s nice to have variety.)
I decided to pick out a few things I might normally skip over, and the first of these was Hogbook and Lazer Eyes by Maria Bamford and Scott Marvel Cassidy.
I recognized Bamford as a stand-up comedian, but I don’t really know her work or Cassidy, her husband. The book bills itself as the story of their relationship, as seen through they eyes of their pet pugs.
Their connection via online dating app and subsequent relationship are the topic of the first third of the book. After that, it’s…stuff that happens to them. Their habit of adopting elderly pugs results in at least half a dozen being introduced through the story.
The story is autobiographical, but unfocused. It doesn’t center on a particular aspect of their lives; just a series of largely unrelated vignettes. It reads a bit like the authors were asked to summarize their lives in a set number of pages.
Most of the problem for me was the narration. The dogs aren’t really given distinct personalities, so it’s hard to say if they’re narrating or not. The narration is largely clinical: what happened and when.
For example, when the pair briefly break up and get back together, the entire explanation reads: “Maria and Scott reunite with help from Sheryl Hirsham, the excellent therapist with silver hair. Communications and emotions resume. Dogs, cats, and other creatures are on board.” It’s accompanied by an abstract illustration of a space council of dogs.
It sounds like there might be an interesting story in there somewhere. I have to assume it was a rougher patch than this glib paragraph suggests, but there’s no detail to be found. Two pages later, they’re engaged.
Perhaps Maria and Scott were uncomfortable airing their dirty laundry in comic form. That’s totally understandable. I certainly would be. But if that’s the case, I would have advised them not to try to write and publish a comic about their relationship.
The art is a ink-heavy, realistic style with muted colors—a bit like early DC Vertigo, minus the horror sensibilities. Half of it is pugs, very faithfully rendered in all their puggish glory. The humans all have a melancholy, slightly pained look to them, regardless of what’s happening in the story.
I’m not sure what to make of this book. I expected comedy, and there was surprisingly little. I expected relationship drama, and there was surprisingly little. The amount of pug content was high, as advertised. If you love pugs or Maria Bamford, you may get more out of this book than I did.
