Big-Jerk #1
David Tristman & Jeff Meyer
Reviewed by Darren Hick

Autobiographical-styled comics always amuse me on some level, especially the meandering, unstructured narratives that eminate from the minds and lives of creators like Seth, Joe Matt, and their peers. David Tristmans' half of Big-Jerk tweaked me on that same level.

I often wonder about autobiographical-style comics... Just how much of the self-deprecation is there for the sake of self-deprecation? Artist of Big 'Un and unrepentant sock-monkey fetishist, David Tristman's offering in Big-Jerk, "A Day in the Life of Big 'Un," follows the title character through his day: getting up, getting a shoeshine, wasting time at his New York office job, shopping for porn, all the while offering the reader insights into Big 'Un's non-stop inner narrative -- his ongoing introspective commentary on everything from his taste in cookies to his taste in comics. This style of existential narrative, recently popularized by Seth's Palooka-ville, is adopted quite skillfully by Tristman, and he plays it to full effect. What I wonder, though, is whether Tristman's... er... Big 'Un's porn fixation is as prominent in his life as he portrays it. Is he playing the self-deprecation card as a trump, simply because people aren't likely to question it (à la Evan Dorkin), or is his life actually like this (à la Harvey Pekar)? In terms of critique, I suppose, it's neither here nor there. The work itself is quite good, and Tristman has adopted a visual style well suited to his stories. What is noteworthy, though, is that Tristman's story has been done before. He's hardly breaking new ground here. I enjoyed it because I enjoy the genre, but if what you're expecting is something new and experimental, you'd best hedge your bets elsewhere.

Jerk creator Jeff Meyer's work, though, is another case altogether. It's like autobiography on amphetamines. Meyer's tale whips along at break-neck speed, showing him now in the shower; now at work; now masturbating in the bathroom -- refusing to stop and dwell on any one part of his day. Where Tristman's story offers the reader almost too much insight into Big 'Un's self-gratifying lifestyle, Meyer's forays into masturbation are just a side-note, easily forgotten as his character speeds around the next corner of the story. Where Tristman's character is meandering and thoughtful, Meyer's is only dimly self-aware and teetering on the psychotic. Didn't we all know this guy back in elementary school? The kid you always wondered what happened to, years after he'd moved out of town? There isn't any real question in my mind that what Meyer does is done well. His portrayal is mighty effective and, I think, downright affective. His style is, strangely, comfortably appealing -- a strong cipher for his story. His piece ends with the editorial quip, "Please forget you ever read this..." Somehow I doubt that's possible.

In the end, Big-Jerk #1 is a worthwhile read. The line between Tristman and Meyer is a strenuous one, and may leave you a little perplexed, but they're both quite accomplished cartoonists, and it's a healthy mix of styles. Just the same, even though clocking in at 34 pages (pretty hefty for a mini), the $3.00 price tag is bound to turn off some potential customers. I'd recommend it anyway, and these are a couple creators to watch for in the future.

Big-Jerk is available for $3.00 from either David Tristman (PO Box 1186, New York, NY, 10276) or Jeffrey Meyer (PO Box 12671, Ft. Wayne, IN, 46864-2671). Age Statement is Required.