Review by Karl Verhoven

Peter Rostovsky has applied considerable thought to what Hell might be like if it’s the traditional Biblical realm of torture, sadism and deprivation. An imaginative array of unpleasantness characterises the lives of inhabitants, but at least they’re allowed time off from being slammed against a wall or having their intestines chewed out. They can visit the therapist.

In keeping with the mood, the male protagonist is never identified by anything other than his consultation designation of PKRx354 as he gradually transforms his negativity toward hell and torture via the enlightenment of therapy. It’s self-delusional, but will it lead to an ease in the suffering?

Rostovsky’s background is painting, and that’s apparent in the rich, three dimensional weight carried by every panel, and a sense of composition that isn’t just aligned to the obvious depiction of the captions. Much of the first third is a blue rendering, but as the focus shifts so does the art, using different colours to indicate different personalities, and sometimes branching out into full process naturalism. Artistically, this is a bravura performance.

A very dark sense of humour is apparent throughout a densely drawn fable taking potshots at the real world, some a little too obvious, but many others hitting the spot incredibly accurately. Among the latter is Hell having a vast telemarketing hall contracted to call people above about repayment of their student loans. The accumulated abuse matches more physical torture. Throughout it all PKRx354 maintains a stoicism looking for ways to appreciate the art of torture, or justifying the reality TV show screened to Hell’s inhabitants: “You realise something’s off and it’s because all the contestants are dead and don’t really speak or move”. Steaks are served made from “consolidated farm-caged sinners sourced from the living plane’s top financial firms”. IKEA construction, though, is the real deal, just imported from above.

Having taken a satirical approach for so long, it’s a shock when Rostovsky switches to actual tragedy when exploring a therapy group that includes a mother who sold her infant daughter to a child trafficker. Until then the assumption is that a single voice narrates throughout, but that’s not the case as Rostovsky explores different hells, stylishly separating them with poster advertising ironically selling what Hell offers.

With Hell as the unifying concept, Rostovsky flits from concept to concept. Will the revolution be televised, for instance? Pretty well everything here is funny, and the strings connecting it to our society are very apparent. Rostovsky has ideas about what Hell is, and how we make it by encouraging poor behaviour because there may be money in it. Some targets are a little too easy, but the therapy sessions have a genuine pathos to them, and there’s never any predicting where Damnation Diaries is heading other than conforming to the title. Great art, a good sense of humour and something to say – what’s not to like?