Perhaps
you recall the famous story by Jorge Luis Borges, "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis
Tertius." In that fable, the steady accumulation of thickly detailed invented
descriptions and faux encyclopedia entries relating to an imaginary place
eventually results in the literal instantiation of the fictive world. Well, in The Cardboard Valise, Ben
Katchor's latest graphic novel, which consists of an intricately interwoven yet
loosely collated collection of one-page strips (some of which do cohere to form
more extended shaggy-dog narratives), artist and storyteller Katchor has
achieved the goal Borges only imagined.
Exiting this oneiric, shamanic, yet utterly naturalistic and sensual
masterpiece, the reader steps out into a revitalized continuum richer and more
exotic than the one he or she inhabited prior to the reading, a realm full of
strange, alluring and bewildering lands, populated by oddball folks with odder
customs. Never again will our common
globe seem like a small, homogenous, boring place, given Katchor's affecting
and humorously melancholy revelations about undeniably real venues such as the
Tensit Islands, Polywalla, Panta Lucia, Outer Canthus and other "bathwater
republics."
Our
excursion begins with the purchase, by one Emile Delilah, of a literal
cardboard valise (although the title is also a pun on the physical construction
of this and every book, a pun wittily made real by foldout handles on the front
and back covers of Valise).
Delilah is intent on visiting the Tensit Islands, home to the world's
most magnificent public restroom ruins.
What transpires with him there cannot be encapsulated in mere rational
synopsis. Let it only be stated that he
narrowly escapes the "sublimation" of the whole island.
A
scattering of other strips centered in Emile's homebase of Fluxion City, New Jersey, intervenes before
we encounter our next running character, Elijah Salamis, who is attempting to
engender a universal culture and attitude blended from the entirety of human
custom. Needless to say, this quest
proves to be more than a little quixotic.
Ultimately, the destinies of Elijah and Emile will intersect, but not before
a myriad other bizarre travelogue moments, some of which are reminiscent of the
surreal wanderings of Bill Griffith's Zippy.
In
his Julius Knipl series of strips, Katchor proved himself an expert at
discovering and chronicling the unseen peculiar talismans of everyday
existence—even if he had to invent them first—freighting such objects as the
metal discs which hold down newspaper piles at corner newsstands with hyperreal
significance. He became a poet of the
tawdry, humble quotidian, and his artwork is beautifully matched with his
themes. No one draws homely,
Fellini-esque faces or clotted and palimpsested urban landscapes with the
unremitting facility and love that Katchor exhibits. The gentle grey washes that seep over his
people and places conjure up a Weegee-like atmosphere of life as she is lived,
below all headlines and high ideals.
The Cardboard Valise is worldbuilding on the order of
Jan Morris's Hav, Austin Tappan Wright's Islandia, Brian Aldiss's Malacia, and
Ursula Le Guin's Orsinia: places that
are attached to our world by extradimensional roads, down which only the
sharpest and most sensitive of literary guides can lead one. Get your ticket immediately!
-PAUL DI FILIPPO

Paul Di Filippo's column The Speculator
appears monthly in the Barnes & Noble Review. He is the
author of several acclaimed novels and story collections, including
Fractal Paisleys, Little Doors, Neutrino Drag, and Fuzzy Dice.