If you’re wondering why I spent $10 on a used copy of this
book, it’s because I was fascinated by the idea of Harvey Pekar having cancer.
Now wait, I’m not saying that cancer is interesting or funny, I just wondered
if his outlook would change. Would he keep on being negative and unpleasant, or
would he realize that life isn’t bad by comparison? Would he develop an
appreciation for life that cancer survivors usually have? Would his wife be
able to put up with it?
There answer to everything is no. Cancer turns the typical whining
Harvey Pekar into whining Harvey Pekar on steroids! Not a day goes by during
this year of cancer treatment that he doesn’t announce his impending death. I
don’t know how his wife puts up with it for so long; there’s nothing in their
marriage that’s worth staying in it for. At least she has her hobbies and her
interests, or she’d go crazy.
I love comics, but I hate Pekar’s American Splendor. If it weren’t for Robert Crumb, this guy would’ve
been just another ambitionless file clerk in Cleveland. Pekar seems to prefer
when things are bad, because when they’re good, he can’t claim that life
stinks. He reminds me of Oscar the Grouch, who’s only happy when people aren’t
nice to him. But at least Oscar the Grouch has personality. Pekar, on the other
hand, bores me to death. Thank god Letterman had the good sense to dump him
from his show.
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