Liars and Saints

 One reason that I love Roz Chast is that she has invented a wonderful character: her father. Chast has such mesmerizing ambivalence for this deeply anxious, neurotic man, so much compassion and exasperation. The guy can be in a tiny, tiny conflict--and still you're fascinated, because the artist is fascinated. In "Father's Day Memory," Mr. Chast is at war with himself. He wants to instruct his daughter, but he can't find words. His sense of myopia is such that he can offer just two pieces of advice: "Carry your subway token in your hand, and always take care of your teeth." His greatest enemy is the Parachute Jump, at Coney Island--which seems to beckon to him, even as it maintains its own sinister aura. The end of this story is tremendously moving; you suddenly realize you're reading a love letter, from the artist to a dead man. Everything is understated; not one word is out of place. I'm so inspired by Roz Chast. https://www.newyorker.com/maga...

 Sometimes, Roz Chast seems to borrow from Arnold Lobel; Lobel's "Toad" is famously the author of his own problems, and RC's "Roz" has this trait, as well. Toad is self-conscious about a bathing suit; he could just wear it with pride, but this option seems mysteriously unavailable to him. Similarly, Roz has real questions about a new purchase. Instead of thinking twice about her credit card, she unwisely fishes for a compliment. "How do you feel about my NEW SWIM SUIT?" The title of this cartoon is "Downhill Racer"--and you can write the rest, without any hints, if you take a moment and daydream. My favorite line: "The important thing is that YOU like it!" ....It's like I'm watching a documentary about my own life, on the big screen.

 Like the George and Martha cartoons, Roz Chast's "Mixed Marriage" series is about irony and tension.  Here's an example. A woman--who might be quite close to Roz Chast herself, in spiritual terms--complains about American flag pins. "Bush...McCain....and their STUPID FLAG PINS." The husband only needs to say, "I get it." But instead he points out that Barack Obama also wears a flag pin. No one wins in this scenario; both halves lose. What fun it is to see the particular loss Chast describes! I think I'd enjoy this even if it were just a typed transcript--but the shaky penmanship and the baggy "eye" pouches make me *that much* happier. This is a favorite of mine.

 Many picture books I like feature just one eccentric character as a source of comedy: Toad, Rotten Ralph, some cantankerous Jon Klassen protagonists, and Sal in "Blueberries for Sal." Roz Chast belongs in this group. The figure she makes of herself--"Roz"--is as absurd as Arnold Lobel's Toad. In a new book, "I Must Be Dreaming," Roz lives with various dirty secrets. For example: She steals a sock display, and though her conscience requires her to return the display, she keeps one pair of forbidden socks. Also, she talks Danny DeVito into a marriage, and though she doesn't love him, she secretly believes she can live off "the pleasant feeling of being adored." Finally, Roz sneaks into a "ladies only" pool party, for a famous actress, and she interrupts a high-stakes conversation to talk about her home-made shoe. I love this woman--I think she is the product of a brilliant mind--and she makes me feel just a bit less alone in the ...

 One extraordinary triumph for Roz Chast was the National Book Critics Award; she won for a book of cartoons. (I think this almost never happens.) The book was "Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?" Its subject: the old age and death of one's parents. Around twenty years ago, Chast, feeling deeply ambivalent about both her mother and father, decided she had to have a "real conversation." Instead of addressing the topic of the Grim Reaper, she said, "So.....do you guys ever think about PLANS? Do you ever make PLANS....in anticipation of....impending THINGS?" Chast's parents said, "We're all set. We're fine. We're perfectly fine." And Chast congratulated herself on her bravery. Chast loathed her Brooklyn neighborhood, in her childhood--and her candor is refreshing. She imagines the storefronts on her ancestral avenue: "METHADONE CLINIC," "GRIM Socks and Panties," "Sick and Battered Fruits.......

 Roz Chast is in the news because she is releasing a book about her dreams; this led me to explore "What I Hate" and "The Party, After You Left." "What I Hate" won't become immortal; Chast is just clearing her throat here. (I do like her rant about the color yellow. "It's the worst of the primary colors; it's often either sickly or aggressively cheery. There are certain pale, pale variants that I can tolerate--but not many.") The stronger book is "The Party, After You Left." Here, Chast recites the fake names of bots that send her "spam" solicitation emails. "Martin Norblast." "Trudi LaRue." "Sidy Tarroae." Chast invents a personality and backstory for each name. Also, Chast imagines one block in NYC--a series of storefronts offering "buttons," "ice skating supplies," "ventriloquism school," "snaps 'n' more." (That's actually New York...

Roz Chast wrote a harrowing and very funny account of her parents' final years. When her mom and dad hit ninety, they began to deteriorate. Mom wrote strange, formal poetry from her hospital bed; Dad began falling--and falling--at regular intervals. Mom told bizarre stories about her dead-in-laws coming back from hell. Dad became obsessed with various missing "bank slips." Chast paid a woman to do the maintenance work, then reflected on how she was just another white person employing a non-white person to do unpleasant tasks. (One cartoon has Roz shrugging and saying, Guess I'll go home now and DRAW.... ) This book has a great deal of gallows humor, and I think my favorite panel shows us a certain shopping area, the "aisle of doom." You can see a box of "Liqui-Food," for when you're "done with food." Plus a box of "Bed-Bath," for when you're "done with bathing." Chast never felt anything like undiluted ...