As pretty much everybody knows by now, Chris Ware drew four different The New Yorker covers for this week. TNY has published all four, plus an original Ware story called "Leftovers," at its website.
My buddy Paul sent me the URL, knowing I inadvertently let my subscription lapse. (Note to circulation departments: The problem with sending folks renewal notices every other day for years before the sub lapses is that we subscribers begin to think you're always crying wolf.)
Paul, knowing my love of sequential narrative art, asks if I agree that Ware's stuff is pretty special. Sigh.
Well, yeah. There's a lot to like about his work. I suspect that a lot of folks who aren't comfortable "reading" comics find his layouts a relief and his draftsmanship is hard to fault. But—you saw that coming, didn't you?—I find Ware's pages static and blah, overall. Maybe it's the six-year-old in me, but I read comics for the same reason I listen to opera: I want to be thrilled—hybrids can transcend the limits imposed on any single form. For the record, I liked one of the four covers (the double panel "Conversation"), found the other three forgettable, and sort of liked "Leftovers."
OTOH, I can't remember the last time Paul deigned to discuss comics with me, so kudos to The New Yorker for at least starting the conversation.
