Harvey Comics

Harvey Pekar just died. As a creator of real-life comics (who couldn't draw), he was one of the top artists of the day.

Like so many others, I was introduced to Pekar through the David Letterman show. Back in those NBC days Dave liked finding oddball guests, and the prickly Pekar was perfect. He became a regular. He'd come in, wearing cheap clothes, and go off on his latest rant. (Jerry Seinfeld once followed him and made fun of his shirt. I thought that was a jerky thing to do. Today the amazing thing is Seinfeld followed Pekar.) I remember once he and Dave invaded the new set next door where Sue Simmons, Jack Cafferty and Al Roker ruled the roost.

Harvey always felt Letterman mostly had him on to act like a caricature of some rude, working class guy, and I think Harvey was putting on a bit of an act; still, it's hard not to get the vibe he felt he was above it all. A self-styled intellectual, someone who read a lot (he wrote fairly deep book and music reviews), you got the impression he figured TV watchers, and perhaps Americans in general, were boobs who didn't know anything about the world around them. In one appearance he started going off on GE, which owned NBC, listing the evils they were responsible for. (No doubt trying to wake the public up from their corporate-controlled stupor.) When he tried it again later, Dave cut him off and that was his last time on the show. At least for a while, anyway. Eventually Dave let bygones be bygones. Harvey, who probably needed the money, did appear on Dave's CBS show.

When Pekar saw underground comics in the 60s he realized this was a medium that could do anything. Yet few comics were exploring the possibilities. The stories didn't have to be bigger than life--they could concentrate on the everyday stuff. By the mid-70s, he was putting out his comic, and continued to do so till the end of his life.

After seeing him on Letterman, I bought a collection of his American Splendor comics and was fascinated. It was essentially Harvey (aided by major comic artists, starting with his old friend R. Crumb) telling stories about his life in Cleveland. Taking the bus. Standing in line at the grocery. Mocking the self-importance of Maus. He talked about his obsession with collecting jazz records, his life as a file clerk at a veteran's hospital (a job he stayed at--comics don't pay that well), his old girlfriends, his illnesses, and his new romance (if that's the word) that led to a marriage.

He had a knack for discovering the stories that grow out of a mundane existence (i.e., everyone's existence). He was also honest, making himself look like a jerk when he acted like a jerk. (Actually, it's possible he didn't realize he was acting like a jerk.) He was able to do something with comics that, essentially, no one else was doing at the time, and few have since.

Perhaps his sales never made him independently wealthy, but his fame spread, and in 2003, a fine movie was made of his life--American Splendor. Paul Giamatti played Harvey, but, following the comic, it was self-referential and also featured Harvey himself, commenting on the action. If you don't know anything about the guy, it's a good place to start. But really he doesn't need a bio--his comics do that job.