Neil Jam '99
Neil Fitzpatrick
Reviewed by Darren Hick

Rabbits and robots. Okay, just the one robot. Possibly many rabbits, but if so, they all look alike, and never appear in the same panel. Not the usual nature of rabbits, but there ya go.

Neil Fitzpatrick's latest Neil Jam, the fifth in the series, is a truly delightful work. Grounded in a sense of existential angst and childlike wonder, the short stories of Neil Jam follow a handful of characters (including the afore-mentioned robot and rabbit, as well as a bird, an animated guitar and a group of humanesque characters) through a string of events and non-events in their bizarre, little lives. Watching these frying-pan-eyed characters materialize giant, magic pencils and just generally kick each other around makes me imagine that this is very much what the residents of Sesame Street are like when the cameras go away for the night. Beneath their simple exteriors, Neil (the robot), Willis (the rabbit) and the rest of the crew hide complex (if stunted) personalities. Interacting in an almost Kochalkean dialogue, all of Neil Jam's characters live in a world of pregnant hesitancy: there's a constant tension, like watching someone on the verge of tears -- always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A strangely comfortable mix of the alien and the all-too-human, Fitzpatrick's stories are structured with a constant sense of the sublime underlying every movement. There's a sense that Fitzpatrick is laying out something about the human condition, but covering it with a thin veil, so that we are only aware of its shape, not its entire nature. His art, likewise, seems imbued with a sense of cuteness, until Fitzpatrick shows us the yin to that yang with a... well, see for yourself; it's on page 3. Beneath the comfort that exudes the work, Neil Jam maintains a constant sense of tension (not to be confused with anxiety) -- in its art, in its narrative, in each step and page in the book.

Having already developed a visual shorthand that strongly suits his stories, Fitzpatrick's work (again, not unlike that of Kochalka's) flows smoothly and effectively -- constructed, as it is, of misleadingly minimalistic ciphers. Though simplistic at first view, Neil Jam seems to contain elements that would appeal to any reader: subtle layers upon subtle layers. Much more than simple rabbits and robots.

Neil Jam '99 carries a price tag of $2.00, and can be had by contacting the creator directly at Neil Fitpatrick, P.O. Box 741, Columbia, MO, 65205-0741 or by e-mail at c713923@showme.missouri.edu.