The author, Richard McGuire is not strictly speaking an author of comics, but rather an artist jack-of-all in areas ranging from design to children's books, through music or animation movies.
With "Here", this is a breathtaking ballet of people and objects from this place through the ages before us, referring to our own insignificance, and posing with acuity the question of memory, the scale of humanity or lindividu whole. Through the 300 pages of this UFO, past, present and future merge and tap the discussion in this salon, the main character of this story developed as a symphony or a series of Dadaist collages. The dialogues are secondary, if diluent such a strange background noise devoid of logic, as in a waking dream, but make sense yet, questioning the clichés of a distant past or even antediluvian, this dun dun mundane or hypothetical future. By superposition of temporality, the most unexpected images twirl and sentrechoquent, among themselves or with the texts, causing the reader a jubilant metaphysical dizzy that acts as done quon dune drugs and can not let go of the object. Sometimes even we are surprised as to the carnival at sesclaffer as if lon was dune on machine back time out of control, or rocking of a boat whose brakes have released.
A lévidence, Richard McGuire is more a graphic designer quun. Characters, objects and other decorative elements are represented with disparate styles, depersonalized, as if to underline the fleeting nature. At times, it is more in the sketch, to other squarely in limpressionnisme. Sometimes the drawings look like photographs reworked to barely visible contours. But ALL OPERATING remains coherent and visually pleasing, the choice of pastel colors provide a soothing touch to the narrative frenzy. Clearly, if louvrage has one foot in the comic, the other is in the pure artistic creation.
"Here" is not read. "Here" is lived like a sensory experience, and despite limmobilisme suggested by the title, we really takes also very far from here we narrowed. With this experimental production, Gallimard has found nothing less quun chief Doeuvre. A wise!
