This
compilation is by the illustrious David B. who rose to fame with his
semi-autobiographical graphic novel Epileptic.
The book is exactly what it claims to be, a collection of dreams in illustrated
form from the author’s 20s to his mid-30s. There is no attempt to interpret the
dreams or make sense of them (if such a thing is even possible) but they are
presented as the author remembers them. Odd shifts in location, characters
appear then disappear, the motives of the narrator shift without reason.
For
most people, myself included, listening to someone’s dreams is about as
enjoyable as getting the getting the car washed or cleaning out earwax. William
Burroughs’ book on the subject of his own dreams My Education was the worst thing he ever churned out. However if
one has to do so, then the graphic novel format makes it at least interesting
to look at, as the narrative is an ever-shifting mishmash.
Of
course it isn’t the story that makes one want to read this book. It is the distinctive
style of David B. that allowed me to happily dance from page to page. The art
and its seamless interaction with the text create a unique "space"
for us to enter and explore. It is dark and cool and blue. In short, if you can
find this book for a reasonable price, it might be worth an hour of your time.
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