Review by Frank Plowright
In 2005 Julia Wertz became an early adopter of the technology enabling web comics. This wasn’t exactly by design, as the initial impetus was to promote her printed minicomics, but her heartfelt splodges generated an ever larger audience online, which eventually resulted in this collection with an introduction from none other than Peter Bagge.
They form a chronicle of Wertz’s dissolute early twenties in New York, living with boyfriend Oliver and wallowing in booze and cheese. One of the earliest strips sets the tone, over three panels her boyfriend pointing out that being an artist is hindered by her not being able to draw. She replies emphatically that she may not be able to draw, but she can drink. It’s a combination that takes her a long way, and her drawing improves as the strips continue, but what really resonates from very early on is the pointed observational comedy. There are also sharp insults and retorts delivered with perfect timing, but presumably they’re not spontaneous reality. Still, there are plenty of cartoonists that can manage that, but Wertz has the unique combination of her observational humour accompanied by a complete lack of boundaries, as exemplified by the fetish device she discusses at a Christmas dinner meeting her mother’s new partner and family. If she thinks it’s funny she’ll draw it, and social standards can get to fuck. An early strip about what babies are good for will separate those who can appreciate Wertz’s genius and laugh out loud every few pages from the sad and unfortunate remainder of humanity.
Yet as Bagge notes in the introduction despite Wertz’s threats, for all the acerbic commentary, Wertz also supplies the ordinary niggles of any relationship, and these are the quiet contrast to the noxious energy. The same lack of filters that provide the laughs also means Wertz’s heart is worn on her sleeve giving a touching honesty to the relationship moments, and these predominate over the final third of The Fart Party. They’re equally involving, but very different. Occasionally the lack of filters also supplies a strip of poignant distress that in hindsight offers insight into Wertz’s condition. There’s self-aware reasoning for Museum of Mistakes being the volume title combining this and the sequel.
Almost the last strip is from Josh Wertz explaining the family dynamics and more about his sister, both funny and heartbreaking. It connects with another stream of inspiration used throughout, that of childhood family recollections. These are a sort of nightmare take on Little Lulu concerning horrendous injury, the neighbour kid’s habit of running naked down the street and the Numa Numa dance. Peter Bagge gets into the spirit by supplying a similar story.
It’s easy enough to write that the combination of offensiveness and vulnerability is prime entertainment, which it is, but don’t forget it’s also Wertz’s life in the early years of the 21st century. You’ll laugh, but you’ll also want to know how things work out for her in Volume 2.
