Review by Ian Keogh
Although not strictly biographical, Nudism Comes to Connecticut has its basis in real events of the 1930s told from the hindsight of two generations later, but with Frank Mallett as the central character. He’s a convivial man, with a weakness for women and a casual attitude to money seen as the only two shortcomings of his pre-World War I consular career. Returning to the USA he inherits some land and is able to initiate an experiment in communal living. In some ways he’s very much the modern financier, constantly buying more property using what he has as guarantee while also selling shares in each new acquisition. As so many others have discovered over the years, though, it’s essential to get out before the bubble bursts.
After the stock market crash of 1929 Mallett finds himself cash poor, but land rich. His solution is to transform the woodland he owns in Connecticut into a nudist retreat, where people can enjoy the health benefits of communing naked with nature well away from prying eyes. At least that’s the intention.
Susan Schade and Jon Buller’s background is in illustrated children’s books, although within that back catalogue are the three volumes comprising The Fog Mound, so they’re not entirely inexperienced when it comes to comics. Buller’s talent shines on cracking the book open, using a delicate, elegant ink line capturing character and location, furnishings and clothes created via subtle shading evoking the newspaper strips of the 1930s. He also captures a carefree joyous innocence among the early American nudists.
Despite being about Schade’s grandfather, the writing isn’t quite as polished for an adult audience, possibly a hangover from the creators’ primary trade. There are places where everything is absolutely spelled out over several unnecessary panels rather than permitting an intelligent audience to connect the dots. However, Mallett’s likeable rogue personality defines an overall spirit, even when quoting from the genuine biography of early nudism converts Frances and Mason Merrill. Diversions include a play satirising the stuffiness of people unwilling to be naked, and everything works towards a reflective ending as Frank looks back over his achievements.
It’s an interesting accounting. Western civilisation, and especially the USA, tends to tot up the value of life commercially, assessing the value of a man according to his financial worth or status. The question raised by Nudism Comes to Connecticut is what value should be placed on someone who largely pleased themselves, followed their interests and may have let some people down along the way? It’s a cheery and fascinating chronicle, and you’re unlikely to read anything similar.
