Punk Rock and Trailer Parks
By Derf
Slave Labor Graphics
For the record, Punk Rock and Trailer Parks is not likely to usher in some sea change on this matter—nor is destined to be celebrated as the definitive chronicle of a cultural movement. Such grand ambitions, however, seem to be the furthest thing from Derf's mind. The artist has seemingly no desire to pen the graphic novel equivalent to Suburbia or Rude Boy, and while the plot is ostensibly that of a coming-of-age story played out with the backdrop of punk's first wave, Derf's book lacks the manner of earnest drama and self-pity of the aforementioned examples. It's this refusal to take itself too seriously that ultimately proves Punk Rock and Trailer Parks' biggest selling point.
On some surface level, the story here is painfully familiar. Derf's protagonist—the self-nicknamed "The Baron"—is a nerdy high school student living with a relative in a trailer park who eventually finds an identity and ultimately some manner of redemption in the world of punk rock.The Baron, however, like Derf himself, refuses to take life too seriously, and while, as an awkward band geek, he oft finds himself the source of ridicule at the hands of his peers, from the outset he's a self-style outspoken character, the sort of slightly-cartoony, free-thinking individual that is, more often than not, relegated to the role of a best friend in these sorts of stories. At times Punk Rock and Trailer Parks feels like a punk rock John Hughes movie with the nerdy Anthony Michael Hall or John Cusack sidekick run amok.
The Baron finds himself in the punk rock equivalent to Forrest Gump scenarios, bowling with Lester Bangs, eating hamburgers with the Ramones, buying shaving cream to obscure Wendy O. Williams' breasts—quirky anecdotes that seem to, at least in part, be steeped in real-life events. However, these events are not the result of passively succumbing to fate. The Baron is a force on-par with some of the aforementioned characters that left their own indelible marks on the culture.
Derf's work in Punk Rock and Trailer Parks is reminiscent of Peter Bagge, both in terms of its unrepentantly cartoonish aesthetic and its stubborn refusal to take anything too seriously. The artist's constant references to the music and characters of the period, meanwhile, are a virtual love letter to punk rock and new wave. The combination of these two complimentary forces makes for an incredibly likeable book.
–Brian Heater
For his part, American Splendor's Harvey Pekar has based the better part of his career upon team-ups with some of the medium's most prominent luminaries, from his early work with Robert Crumb, Spain Rodriguez, and Frank Stack, to more contemporary piecea that have seen him penning scripts for the likes of Chester Brown, Gilbert Hernandez, and Dean Haspiel (a handful of whom can be found in the recently released University of Mississippi paperback, Harvey Pekar: Conversations).
That Pekar should eventually cross paths with Alison Bechdel seems like a no-brainer. Author of the long-running strip Dykes to Watch Out For, Bechdel's 2006 graphic novel Fun Home was quickly recognized as one of the finest examples of the auto-bio comic–a genre which, while not invented by Pekar, was arguably perfected in the pages of American Splendor. Critics were quick to shower Bechdel's brutally honest memoir with all manner of praise, awarding the book a Eisner, placing it amongst the finalists for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and naming it Time Magazine's book of the year.
Earlier this year, Bechdel and Pekar embarked on a reading tour—"Titans of the Graphic Novel." A slightly tongue-in-cheek name, perhaps, but certainly one with strains of the medium's most celebrated costumed team-ups.
As any red blooded comics fan can tell you, no great team-up is complete without an equally compelling origin story. In the lead up to their national tour, Bechdel and Pekar collaborated on a strip that explained genesis of the somewhat absurd moniker that graced the posters advertising their upcoming joint appearances. The one-pager was used to help the artists book appearances for the tour.
Thankfully, Bechdel and Pekar have both kindly agreed to let us reprint the strip on The Daily Cross Hatch. Check out "Twilight of the Titans" in all of its glory after the jump.
–BH
Jessica is one of the most visually arresting minis I've seen this year. Jason Overby's art flits from suggestions of figures, out of focus faces, morphed arms, and seemingly haphazard shapes floating in the background, to panels featuring almost nothing but randomly placed text balloons and squiggly lines. The overall feeling created by Jessica is of an artist playing fast and loose with his pencils and inks, yet you become captivated by the cumulative effect of all those lines and an appearance of sleight of hand. 
Jason uses a few styles of drawing that switch at random. At first it looks like the styles switch between an old comic or memory to the present, but the two bleed into each other's territory and you're left with randomness. This isn't distracting. In fact, it adds to the overall charm of this book. 
Jessica is about the artist's experience trying to date Jessica. They go on a date, but ultimately end up as just friends. In the present, he's still distracted by the one that got away. For the cover, Jason uses a thick, virtually unadorned recycled brown card stock that looks like something used as the backing for a pad of legal paper. No information other than the title scrambled inside four lines of randomly stamped letters and Jason's name on the back cover. 
