I’m Not From Here by Kenn Minter
Categories: Reviews
I’m Not From Here
by Kenn Minter
Near Mint Press
Modesty, dear reader, has no place in autobiographical comics.
Let the demure write fiction, and sew their own experience into a quilt of monikers and fantasy and fraudulence. Fiction’s not real, but it’s readable and tasteful to some. Still, I like the grotesque honesty of autobiography, and I want to see it at its best, which is why today I’ll pick a little on Kenn Minter‘s book I’m Not From Here.
An autobiographer is a special animal, my favorite beast. He needs to lay all his fleshy terribleness on the page without excuses, and if he can’t, he should go back to storytelling.
I’m Not From Here clearly promises “slightly embellished autobiographical comic strips,” but it falls flat as just another weak foray into the genre.
The backbone of autobiography is made up of honesty and openness. When the autobiographical cartoonist gets too protective of himself or the people in his life, it’s a disservice to the story and the reader. So while there’s much to enjoy about Kenn Minter’s book, it could also be seen as an example of what not to do in autobio cartooning.
Today’s autobiographical cartoonist reaps the benefit of living in a post-American Elf world. They should realize it and be thankful! But instead, some make apologies and constantly cover up truths. The subtitle of Minter’s book says it, the publishing information re-hashes it (The stories, characters and incidents mentioned in this book are embellished or entirely fictional), and even the title implies dissociation from the events inside. It’s understood that we shouldn’t take Minter’s book at face value, so the repetitive reminders are overkill and even insulting to a sophisticated audience familiar with the framework of autobio.
Here is a summary list of autobio’s basic tenets: characters have fake names so the real people don’t sue, time is not fluid or real-time, imagination will be anthropomorphic, one’s physicality is not a perfect copy of reality. So, when Minter says his autobio comics are “slightly embellished” that statement is already redundant and it definitely doesn’t excuse the more obscure stories.
For instance, there’s a one-page story about “Big Eyes,” a girl he’s seeing who returns from a trip only to leave him again. The comic is a brief three-panels, and in it just one thing is established. A girl leaves, maybe because she was gay or maybe because she met someone else, but he doesn’t say why. It’s a total throw-away story for the book that never gets mentioned again, but it probably means everything to Minter, which is why he kept so much of it to himself. But that’s what bad autobio is! Because autobio is all about letting people in, secrecy is against the nature of the genre. In the “‘Big Eyes’ returns” story, he intentionally left the audience out – an autobio no-no.
I’ve given this a lot of thought, discussed the matter with experts in the field, and come to the conclusion that autobiographical comics are like your first girlfriend. She doesn’t need to be pretty, she just needs to put out.
It’s the reason why Jeffrey Brown’s comics are a mainstay of the genre. The frail, child-like drawings weren’t so tough to look at when the promise at the end of the page was a guy’s heart ripped biannually from him by some girl who was supposed to make it alright. What’s remarkable about books like the girlfriend trilgoy, is that they let readers into the author’s private circle. Brown does this by including details that aren’t flattering to his ego and even make him look like a pathetic jerk sometimes. It’s brave and it’s pleading to be understood, but it’s only these things because the author didn’t play carrot and stick games, which is the bane of most autobio flops.
Joe Matt tells us every despicable thing about himself, and even though we won’t shake his hand for the memory of where it’s been, we love him for it. The ultimate truth is that to write a good autobiographical comic book, you’ve got to be honest and a little self-destructive, and Minter didn’t prove in this book that he has the chops.
Autobio isn’t for everyone. That’s the conclusion.
Luckily, Minter is a fabulous artist and has work available in other genres. In I’m Not From Here, the black lines and gray fills move nicely on the page. He has an eye for framing things and picking the right angles – he just won’t tell you his girlfriend’s name. You can even give I’m Not From Here a whirl and decide for yourself if it plucks your sympathetic, voyeuristic heart strings.
- Sarah Morean
Sarah… You sit and gripe about what his comic should be instead of accepting it for what it is. Obviously you do not get it. Lame Review.
I found this review to be very helpful to me in understanding why exactly I “don’t get it” when I read Kenn Minter’s comics. I do feel left out, and the events aren’t interesting enough because I don’t get enough detail. I know this must be painful to read for Kenn, but constructive criticism is often hard to come by, so here it is. Perhaps in the future we will see his painfully honest reaction to this review portrayed in a comic, and we will be able to recognize our own, bitchy selves satisfyingly reaming him out.
Far too often critics spend their time railing on the details of a work based on what it isn’t rather than what it is. It seems to me that the entire review is spent criticizing the work based on what you thought it should be an not what the author intended. Do us a favor and ditch the self-importance.
Sarah you seem pretty sharp and full of spirit — passionate about this genre. But I’m having a tough time separating what’s your personal preference and opinion in this review vs. actually telling us something of substance about the content of the comic. You’re right, it does not strictly meet the traditional definition of autobiography. So what? Minter admits that right on the front cover. If a reader doesn’t like that sort of thing (aka, you) then they shouldn’t bother to crack it open in the first place! Hell, it’s not strictly a work of fiction either (watch out, Kenn, don’t try to pass this off as fiction next time! You might upset the fiction police!) It is what it is, and it’s still a pretty darn fun read. What’s wrong with a little creative license now and again? Can’t a fella break and bend the rules a little bit if he wants? In most cases, one can kinda figure out reading I’m Not From Here what’s “embellished” and what’s not. And who cares about fake names — if he used names that seemed more ‘real’ to you, how would you or anyone else really know whether he was making them up or not anyway? Oh well, enough of my soap box… So folks, get copy, read it, and decide for yourself whether you like it or not. Don’t let someone’s opinion dictate that for you. You may hate it BUT you might just like it, too! That’s my two cents.
I’m not familiar with the work in question, but I don’t see anything wrong with this review. When has “accepting something for what it is” ever been part of what a review should be? Are you all upset because your expectations for a review weren’t met… not unlike how Sarah’s expectations for an autobio weren’t met? This is honest, constructive criticism and it brings up a lot of great points. Honestly, I sort of object to the bit about first girlfriends “needing to put out” but when flattery is too often mistaken for actual reviews, take what you can get.
Sorry, I thought I made it clear in the beginning.
When I said I wanted to see the autobio genre at its best, and was making an example of this book – that was my tip that I wasn’t reviewing this book in the traditional sense. I was using it as a casebook example of an autobiographical comic in need of a little advice. I really only discussed it from one angle. I talked about to what degree this book is what it claims to be, which is an autobiographical comic, and I found it wanting.
Sounds like some of you just wanted me to describe it? This book got me thinking, and that’s a much better compliment than a list of plot points, I think.
Kenn Minter is a great cartoonist in the technical sense who could stand to open up a little more when promising stories about his personal life. That’s all. And in reaching that conclusion, we all learned a little more about the autobio genre, didn’t we? Let’s hug now and make up.
I agree with Katie to some degree. Constructive criticism seems to be relatively done well in this review and it’s obvious the reviewer was looking for something more. Sarah’s follow-up seems sincere as well. Still, if she is reviewing it strictly as an ‘autobiographical’ comic when the guy states on the front cover that it’s “embellished”, then she may be missing the point. I haven’t read it yet either, but I will now!
No disrespect, George, but you can’t have this both ways. Yes, the review would be a solid piece of constructive criticism in the context of reviewing the book as a purely autobiographical work. The problem is that “I’m Not From Here” isn’t that kind of book. This is even pointed out within the Sarah’s comments and on the cover of the book. It is like reviewing a comedy as a drama and being disappointed that it was a comedy.
Sarah, I know what autobios are. I don’t need the lesson. Sorry, no hugs this time.
Shots fired!
I definitely took something away from the review, as a comics reader. I think that although it’s hard for one person to receive a critical review or critique, it benefits a far greater number of people for a critic or reviewer to honestly engage a work and tackle what s/he find as problematic than to hold back and preserve one person’s feelings.
Or in other words, the reviewer/critic’s responsibility isn’t to heap praise upon work. His/her responsibility is to write how s/he responded to the work.
Comics culture needs to detatch itself from this notion that reviewers and critics are free compliment machines.
Hey, this is gettin’ fun!!
Now looky here, Dynomutt, I can have it which ever dad-blasted way I want it — just like Minter and his alleged ‘on-the-fence’ approach to autobio comics.
Point is, the reviewer did a fine job of expressing her opinion. Very articulate. But if her opinion misses the target, as I believe I stated it DID (in my opinion), then what the flip is the review worth? However, if one is going to put it all out there for the world to see, they’d better toughen up real fast because people WILL have opinions whether they ‘get it’ or not. Ayo raises a good point… It can’t all be a back-pattin’ party — you have to take the good with the bad, even if the bad sometimes isn’t quite accurate (in your opinion). Besides, there’s no such thing as bad press, right?
Minter should feel lucky that anybody even gives a crap to read his work at all and have all us nerds on here gabbing about it (in my opinion)!
I don’t know if any press is good press these days, but I’d like to think that still holds true. It would be true if the reviewer doesn’t discourage people from reading books and finding out for themselves. I just think the book has been misrepresented here. I’m not calling out Sarah’s ability to write. She seems to be a very competent writer, but I also felt that this review missed the point this time. It isn’t about “laying it all out on the line.” It is more of a look at pieces Minter’s life through his perspective. Like all creative work this is all subjective to the individual reader.
It seems that people tend to like everything in black and white. What’s wrong with a little gray matter now and again? In some ways, this work is as autobiographical as anyone could hope for…
The irony here, as I see it, is that in Minter’s ‘method’ of revealing these snapshots of his life to us in “I’m Not From Here” is really just part of a bigger picture in revealing what kind of person he actually is. Oh fiddle sticks, he’s leaving out the juicy details… Soooooo!
What we DO learn is that he’s funny, creative, extroverted, sometimes sad sometimes not, sometimes frantic sometimes not, occasionally paranoid, horny, to some extent self-serving, deliberate, and somewhat restrained (or even sneaky) in how he presents himself — trying to find balance in being cautious and in control of ‘his’ information rather than releasing all the skeletons at once by spewing his guts out and hope you’ll still like him the next day. Or perhaps he simply has a poor self-image. Whatever… still sounds quite autobiographical, eh? What more do you want? I don’t feel cheated because I don’t know the name of his girlfriend or that he portrays his friend as a bunny or what his puke smells like.
Some people reveal themselves by wearing it all on their sleeves for all to see and blabbing it to anyone who will listen (and who knows if any of it’s true or not anyway), and you do find some of that with Minter’s comic. Others like to leave you guessing, giving bits of information and hints of ones true identity along the way until you eventually get a good handle on their real personality. It’s like getting to know a new boyfriend/girlfriend. As time passes and you piece their puzzle together to figure out whether they’ll be a good ‘match’ long term. Sometimes you find a good catch, sometimes you snag a real nut! But you rarely know all their baggage and whether or not it has handles on the first date.
Maybe Minter intended to leave the reader ‘wanting’, Sarah. If you step back and try to see the bigger picture here, you may find this piece is more autobiographical than you think. Just maybe?
Well put.