Gato amava Pipo que amava Manuel que não amava ninguém mas namorava todas. Entre histórias de amor, dramas familiares, brincadeiras de moleques e uma pitada de sobrenatural, Gilbert Hernandez nos apresenta a Palomar, um vilarejo em algum lugar da América Latina onde se passam as histórias reunidas em Sopa de Lágrimas.
Frequentemente comparadas pela crítica internacional à literatura de Isabel Allende e ao clássico Cem Anos de Solidão, de Gabriel García Márquez, as histórias de Sopa de Lágrimas têm muito do realismo mágico da literatura latina. E apresenta personagens que estão entre as mais vívidas da história dos quadrinhos, como Luba, a exuberante forasteira que se instala em Palomar, Chelo, a bañadora oficial da cidade, e Típin Típin, o último romântico de coração partido.
Gilbert and his brother Jaime Hernández mostly publish their separate storylines together in Love And Rockets and are often referred to as 'Los Bros Hernandez'.
Gilbert Hernandez, born in 1957, enjoyed a pleasant childhood in Oxnard, California, with four brothers and one sister. In Gilbert’s words, they were “born into a world with comic books in the house.” His childhood enthusiasm for the medium was equaled only by his appetite for punk rock.
Initiated by older brother Mario and bankrolled by younger brother Ismael, Gilbert created Love and Rockets #1 with his brother Jaime in 1981. Over 30 years later, the series is regarded as a modern classic and the Hernandez brothers continue to create some of the most startling, original, and intelligent comic art ever seen.
From 1983 to 1996, Gilbert produced the now legendary Palomar saga, collected in the graphic novels Heartbreak Soup and Human Diastrophism, and considered to be one of the defining bodies of literature of its era.
Gilbert lives in Las Vegas, NV, with his wife Carol and daughter Natalia.
I thought Jamie Hernández's work was great, but Gilbert Hernández's has left me totally an dutterly speechless, the amazing, sometime magical realist world of Palomar a remote tiwn with no TV, few cars etc. And lots of pain, love, bitching, learning, laughing, growing, dying and more. Superb - an absolute must-read! This series is superb, but this volume is impeccable on so many levels, from long form plotting, the wonderful art and the exquisite management and control of such a large cast of multifaceted characters. Seriously! 10 out of 12, Five Star Read.
This is my third or fourth time reading these stories, but the first for a decade or so. No criticism here - these are foundational for me, some of my favourite ever comics. The first time I read the early stories here - 25 years ago now - I remember feeling a little sad at how quickly Gilbert Hernandez moved time forward. The world of the first Palomar story was so charming I wanted to stay there longer - but time and change, the steady accretion of consequences and histories, is the essence of both sides of Love And Rockets. So this reading the stuff which really stood out for me was at the end of this collection, the sequence of stories focusing on the individual boys from that first story, and the nearby stories, one a mad whirl of a cast-reunion party, one a surreal tale involving a bruja's visit to Palomar. What all these have in common is Hernandez moving his storytelling style on from the whimsical but straightforward magic-realist narration of the first half of the book, trying out new structures (first-person and third-person narratives in the Heraclio and Vicente stories; the way Israel's life is purely relational, defined entirely by who he's with; the constant, panel-to-panel perspective shifts in the party story; and the feverish breakdown of storytelling in "Duck Feet"). This understandable thirst for variety and experiment would flower more in later stories - in this one it's in delicious balance with the more consistent location and loveable cast.
Heartbreak Soup is a collection of tales set in Palomar by Gilbert Hernandez.
I read all of Jaime Hernandez' Love and Rockets books earlier this year so I figured it was time to give Gilbert a shot.
Heartbreak Soup is a collection of 20 tales set in the fictitious town of Palomar, a place that is a curious mix of the past and the present, where there are no TVs and people still believe in witches. Some of the tales have a supernatural element but most of them are human stories about the people of Palomar.
The characters are rich and varied. If I had to gripe about something in this book, it's that there are a ton of characters to keep track of: Tonantzin, Luba, Chelio, Heraclio, Israel, Carmen, and many, many others. For people who want LGBTQ representation in comics, the Hernandez comics were doing it before it was cool and doing it more than a token amount once a year.
Gilbert Hernandez' art reminds me of Jaime's quite a bit but they are not the same, like using the same ingredients to make different recipes. I expect they share a ton of influences, growing up in the same household, but Gilbert's art feels a little more cartoony to me.
I'm trying not to judge this based on Jaime Hernandez' Locas book but I think this suffers a little by not centering on one or two characters. That aside, I'm already looking forward to my next visit to Palomar. The town feels very old fashioned at times, with no TV and people paying for baths and seeing old movies at a single projector movie house. There's an undercurrent of the past fighting the present for most of the book.
Heartbreak Soup shows the beginnings of a masterpiece. I'll be visiting Palomar again sometime soon. Four out of five stars.
To be perfectly honest, at the beginning of this book, I was completely lost. There was a cast of so many characters, with so many random, seemingly senseless things going on, that I couldn't quite orient myself until, some time further into the book, I began to realize that this was just how the book was written. This first volume isn't even able to be considered as a real book, in a sense, because it's a collection of shorter stories all put together into one large volume. In fact, I think there are six more volumes that came after this one that continued to expand on the stories of the people from the made-up town of Palomar.
Overall, I'd have to say that this entire volume of stories reads quite like a Spanish novella would play on TV. I get that distinctly "soap opera" feeling from it, and yet... *Laughs* I, who never in my life cared or had the urge to watch such things, found myself really enjoying this first volume of Heartbreak Soup. It was definitely a different experience for me in the world of graphic novels. I who have read few comics and whose sole source of understanding is manga, was able to get the chance now to enjoy the large and varied genre from a different culture, and it was pleasantly worth it.
There's something relieving about just sitting back to read a book that doesn't have a message or anything truly purposeful to it. The entirety was, as I've mentioned before, a series of interrelated if separate stories that follow a fairly large and varied set of characters. There are a few people I loved--Carmen especially. God that girl/woman was KICKASS. <333 I became a dedicated fan from the nearly the first second I saw her. *Laughs* Every character in here though, has this wonderful quality, where you almost forget that they're made up characters in a story. They act and think and feel like real characters do. There's none of that sense that you're reading a story in here. It's got the realism of sitting down in front of your TV and literally watching a novella, with all its twists and turns, unexpected or not, of normal people living their own lives. *Chuckles* It's quite refreshing. This is one of those books that you would read just for your own pleasure and nothing more or less. Very few books can pull that off today.
I must say something else about the things I read. Being the type of story it is, it has everything that normal people commonly find and deal with in life: sex, murder, prostitution, and more. It's also pretty graphic in some terms of this, definitely the sex and nudity portions of it. And listen to this girls! Male nudity too for once! About time, right? *Chuckles* Sure the women are going to out-do the men, as normal. But all these things should give you the feeling for what this graphic novel is really like. Although it is absolutely not written for children, it's full of a casualness that makes everything enjoyable even if it takes you some time to get into the world and learn who the different people are. You eventually get there, and you start to feel at home in the stories of the people of Palomar. After that, it just turns to sitting back and enjoying the ride for the duration.
Strangely enough, even after finishing things, though many of the stories had a mixture of closure or lack thereof, I feel that of all the graphic novels I've read, this one is perhaps one of the few that I would go back to and read again, because I know I'll enjoy it from beginning to end all over again. Perhaps that sensation alone speaks for itself.
Also! I absolutely have to mention this before I conclude. The artwork: THANK GOD that it was drawn by someone with an actual CONCEPT of how the human body looks! The women! God bless these women! They have CURVES. *Cheers all the way throughout the book!* It's such an unexpected and delightful surprise to actually SEE women that have a SHAPE to them and not just implanted parts that become the central focus. For instance, that one part where Luba, the woman with the BIGGEST boobs you'll see in this book, is making a comment about another girl's attire in town, she mentions that she would trade everything for a pair of legs like the other has. And lifting her long skirt and planting her knee on a barrel or box (can't remember what it was exactly), she displays her own chicken leg and it's thin and unshapely. That kind of balance between the actual make and variety of women's bodies is a detail that adds so much more pleasure to the reading for me. I think perhaps that's why I didn't mind the nudity of the women as much as I might have if it was in any other story. In the end, it was just their bodies, beautiful and natural and NORMAL. No flippin' implants or anorexia to boot. -3- I enjoy my women with SHAPE to them. Geez, you think people would actually care about that! But I'm done rambling about that for now. XD
In the end, I feel that this is a book that may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I'd say it's definitely worth looking into if you'd like some variety and enjoyment. Don't plan on getting anything too deep from this book, even if it does have its moments scattered throughout. Just go through it for the fun! It's a nice read for that! ^__^
This book contains 19 stories, all set in and around the fictional Latin American village of Palomar. The stories follow several generations of the village’s inhabitants over the span of about a decade, focusing on the community as a whole more than any specific characters. The principle character of one story may be entirely absent from another, and a supporting character from one story may take a central role in the next. To me, this is the most interesting thing about the work: the way that it provides piecemeal glimpses of the village and its people, gradually revealing connections between them and other details, using time jumps and flashbacks to show them as children, adolescents and adults. As a result, the reader becomes engrossed in the world and invested in the characters’ fates.
The actual content of the stories is varied, and sometimes a little bit odd. The longer stories in the collection tend to feel reminiscent of soap operas, with a big focus on the villagers’ romances and sexual exploits, alongside coverage of their family lives, careers and friendships. It’s never quite as melodramatic as soap operas tend to be, but there’s no shortage of excitement: from secret trysts and tearful break-ups to fist fights and murder. Meanwhile, a lot of the shorter stories have a very cartoonish tone, often consisting of little more than a couple of gags, and feeling something like extended newspaper comic strips. Further adding to the disparate mix, some of the stories have supernatural elements. The net result is that the reader never quite knows what to expect, and is constantly taken off guard.
The art is nice – and very consistent – but seldom spectacular. The most interesting thing about the art is the use of unashamedly cartoonish visual language. Highly exaggerated expressions and body language, as well as techniques like lines above the head to indicate surprise, create a feeling reminiscent of The Beano or Peanuts, despite the overall aesthetic being more akin to Dan Clowes or Adrian Tomine. This unusual blend of stylized realism and wacky cartooning works well, and lends everything an element of fun.
Overall, this is an enjoyable work that feels like much more than the sum of its parts, thanks to the way that each individual story forms part of a broader tapestry about Palomar and its denizens. Its tone, content and style aren’t terribly cohesive, but it’s a fun ride, and it’s often genuinely moving to see the characters’ life trajectories play out. This volume works perfectly on its own, and yet I have little doubt that I’ll eventually revisit Palomar by picking up another installment.
Wow. If anybody says comic books aren't literature show them this. I have never read a comic book like this. This is not just one of the best comic books I have ever read but one of the best books period. This is a classic that deserves to be placed along side other great works of literature. It manages to hit harder than Barefoot Gen, while being about everyday lives rather than big events. It's one of those books that I just want everybody to read, but unlike a book by George Orwell or Harper Lee it's not trying to tell you something, or convince you of anything. It's not 'Woke', and that's one of the things I like about it. It just holds up a mirror to the world, if that makes any sense at all. Maybe I just relate to the little town of Palomar out in the middle of nowhere. I felt like I recognised a few people.
My first bigger book by Gilbert (and only my second overall, after Speak of the Devil), and I was a little worried about how he'd compare to Jaime, but I may like his stuff just as much. Had a brief discussion about it last night with Casey and came to the conclusion that it's mostly just more intense and adult and gets there faster than Jaime's stuff does. It's not just that there's a lot more sex and violence (although there is; even this first book is, like, jam-packed with wang), but also that the relationships explored are considerably more complicated, even from the beginning, and by the end of this collection, they're even more so. I don't love anyone here the way I love Maggie and Hopey, but I sure do want to find out more about them.
Of the things that make me truly happy in life, the experimental and semi-surreal comics of Jamie and Gilbert Hernandez are high on the list. While I'm more partial to Jaime's Locas, the close-knit community of Palomar has grown on me. When I'm blue on the ride to or from work, I can disappear in Gilbert's broad cast of characters and forget about my troubles in a world where the real is slightly or significantly less real, where love and loss occur with a visual and narrative beauty that allows me to marvel at the mysteries of life at a distance from whatever shitty-ness I have sapping from my mind.
Two pages and I was hooked. Saw this book at UNCG's library (so happy to see that university libraries everywhere are making collections of graphic novels). Dark and brooding; warm and wonderful. It has everything: violence, paranoia, sex, friendship, larger-than-life women with larger-than-life breasts, fried slugs, panther attacks, enormous sculptures and temples left by ancient tribes that strangely resemble extraterrestrials.
"É a velha história de sempre. Velha, mas perene."
Como olhar, do batente da janela, para um mundo mágico quiproquozando sem parar. Você vai daqui acolá, do presente pro passado que serão as memórias futuras no meio de tudo sempre acontecendo na cidade de Palomar. Um exercício de intimidade, observação, voyeurismo descarado, realidade quase cruel. Termino com aquela melancolia perspectiva, que do seu jeito perverso faz tudo valer a pena.
This is so fucking good. Nothing I write can really capture what Heartbreak Soup does so well. But let me try:
1. Ensemble cast makes the town of Palomar feel alive--like author Gilbert Hernandez is a documentarian rather than puppetmaster.
2. While shocking at first, the jumbled timeline does a great job of isolating the stories and providing a thematic rhythm to how the novel unfolds.
3. Characters are endearing, despite (or because of) being fairly flawed people. We see them in good times and bad times, and the way their personalities rise and diminish.
4. These flaws extend to some uncomfortable social areas. Certainly it's highly sexist--a society where women have to scrape and scream to be seen as more than a baby maker/raiser. But worse is the way the girls are ogled by old dudes basically the moment they enter their teenage years. I can claim that a lot of this is cultural difference, a difference between attitudes of the 80s vs now, but those sound like your normal "shitty content" excuses. However, I do think I could make an argument that the the novel itself avoids glorifying or condoning these actions--that there is a critical eye (albeit subtly done) that conveys these things as gross. It's always delicate to assume intent, especially without much commentary from the characters themselves to offer a verbal perspective, but the novel doesn't seem to treat the perpetrators with any particular fondness. Take that as you will.
5. While unrelated, it feels like there are some socially advanced perspectives, too, which help me put faith in my interpretation of #4. The key event is (light spoilers alert) when we learn one of our main characters' virginity was taken by one of the middle aged women in the village. He was, what? Fifteen or so? Give or take. The event is initially presented as a thing that happened. Maybe with a sparkle of envy--what a lucky guy! But as the novel unfolds, we gets more details and the event sours. We see how even though he wasn't saying no, he also had no agency in the situation. We see the toll it took on his mental health. The confusion. It really showcases that if we emphasize the "statutory" in "statutory rape," we're really just trying trying to minimize the RAPE part of the term. Literally cannot consent, and Heartbreak Soup is one of the best examples I've seen.
6. The greatest compliment I can give this is, finishing the book was like losing friends. I got emotionally invested in these characters and these odd moments in their lives. The village, the people, they felt real and tangible--more than just black and white drawings on the page.
Palomar isn't a particularly attractive graphic novel. Nobody has the ability to fly, there is no costume, villain with weird laughs, super speed, teleportation, time warp, fluffy animals, or even girl with really big eyes.
Maybe that is why it's literary.
It's easy to poke fun at superficial comics and post lolcat pictures instead of writing a proper review here. My own lack of description should thus hopefully convince you how good this is.
Hernández has created an amazingly well developed small Mexican town setting and packed it with quirky, realistic characters. Heartbreak Soup is a collection of small stories encompassing dozens of residents and jumping around in time, spanning two generations. He tackles death and sex and love and crime and unemployment and white people and adolescence and nostalgia. There's even a bruja. It's magnificently immersive.
I can hardly count the number of things I found in this book that seem to have directly influenced other books and fiction I've loved.
Gaiman, Lynch, Ennis, Dillon, J. Smith...
Aside from this interesting thread playing through the whole collection, there is the collection itself. The weight and significance of the evolution of Palomar is tricky to appreciate when you have it all put together for you by Fantagraphics (well half put-together, there's a second Palomar volume). But these were scraps - hidden novels - bits and pieces of treasure that magically only ever grew better and more awe inspiring. You think you know characters, and then they dramatically change and the seeds of that change were there from the beginning (and they didn't really change at all).
As a young artist, I far preferred Jaime's work to Gilbert's. I like that crispy formula and careful linework - the punkier feel and kinetic flow. I will be reading a Jaime collection soon - and I may well still feel the same for it - - but I have *certainly* come to more that appreciate Gilbert's work. It's really unnecessary to compare - but, no. Never mind. It's really unnecessary to compare.
The hearts here are huge - the storytelling is sublime, trashy, warm and real. The men and women are fleshed out in a way that would make this book seem suitable for handing over to otherworldly visitors and saying "here - this is us, read this and you'll get it."
We're so rich to have this work in our world - and there are still those who don't know it, so tell them. And, unlike so many comics with a long history - it is perfectly safe to encourage them to start from the beginning.
Durante muitas décadas, os quadrinhos foram um espaço onde super-heróis lutavam contra seus inimigos ou, na ausência de protagonistas com superpoderes, eram contadas histórias sobre grandes aventuras. Claro, existiam exceções, mas essa era a regra. Gilbert Hernandez e seus irmãos foram contra essas regras e resolveram escrever histórias sobre pessoas normais. O sucesso do trabalho dos irmãos, então caracterizado como um quadrinho alternativo, ajudou o gênero a sair de seu clichê super-herói / aventuras.
Em Sopa de Lágrimas, Gilbert Hernandez escreve sobre o dia a dia de personagens que moram em uma cidade fictícia chamada Palomar, localizada em algum local da América Central / México. Vemos os personagens nascendo, crescendo, estudando, trabalhando, tomando decisões idiotas, divertindo-se, transando, tendo filhos, tomando boas decisões, traindo, cuidando de seus filhos, morrendo, ou seja, sendo pessoas. Talvez haja uma dose exagerada de dramaticidade, o que levou alguns a compararem as histórias a uma típica novela latino-americana.
O tomo começa um tanto quanto confuso, com uma profusão de personagens, mas aos poucos o leitor vai se apegando aos habitantes de Palomar. O destaque, claro, fica por conta de Luba, uma mulher decidida, independente, sexualmente confiante, que cria quatro filhos de pais diferentes e que chama a atenção de muitos em Palomar, especialmente os adolescentes, com seu volumoso par de seios. Não gostei tanto a ponte de ir atrás do volume 2, mas vale a pena ao menos ler o volume 1.
The cartooning is very good but not quite as good as Jaime's. I think the writing here is better though. This was better than both Jaime books I've read so far but I think the massive expectations are keeping me from really enjoying Love and Rockets so far.
Based on my own natural proclivities, my punk-rock (-ish) youth, and my love of all things Decline of Western Civilization, I would have figured that Jamie’s “Locas” volumes would be my preferred L&R storylines, and checked out the first volume of the Palomar stories only as a contrast. I didn’t imagine I would get past the first half before declaring that “eh, I get the point” and going back and buying property at the outskirts of Hoppers. But no. No, no, NO! Brother Gilbert’s storylines, I have to say, are the ones I come back to in my mind, again and again, the conflicts, the atmosphere, the pace of the world, the isolation *from* the world, the twinges of magic realism and oddness at the outskirts of town. Hoppers has my heart, but Palomar has my soul.
Kicking right off with the brilliantly expository “Heartbreak Soup,” we get that most lovely narrative tradition, introducing a town by telling the most vulnerable stories of its most vulnerable citizens – the lovelorn, the deformed, the outcast, the picked-on, and the angelically touched. We are in a place where the job of bathing townspeople is still a viable position, one first held by Chelo, and then by her rival, the Himalayan-bosomed Luba, who turns a sleepy profession into the closest thing Palomar has to a vice industry. This unexpectedly frees up Chelo to become the town sheriff, one of many surprising but well-timed narrative twists that make this whole span of stories feel like the work of a master novelist.
Whether we read of romantic triangles, teenage crushes, interloping American photographer/dilletantes, sisterly rivalries, or get ever-more backstory into Luba’s children and family, every story turns up gold. Even more so than the Locas stories, I will say that keeping track of the enormous cast of characters (even without the helpful “list of characters in order of appearance” list in the back of the book) is still quite daunting even several volumes in. This results less in frustration and more in the desire to just re-read the damn thing.
This would probably be 4.5 stars if Goodreads allowed such a thing, but I’m feeling generous and the extra half-star comes from the fact that even a year later, I still regularly think about these characters, their storylines, and Gilbert’s exquisitely open compositions and nuanced visual storytelling.
When I read the first couple vignettes I was slightly confused and wasn't sure if I was getting the whole "small town people" vibe. Well, I was introduced to a badass, intelligent little girl named Carmen and I was hooked!
What kinda funny is all the characters are stereotypes of Mexicans and Latin Americans. Sounds insipid and offensive, right? Wrong! Gilbert Hernandez portrays his Latino/Latina characters as Hollywood stereotypes at first (mostly in the exterior), yet the farther in you read you realize each and every one of them has a distinct, complex personality of their own. So essentially Hernandez drew stereotypes yet decided to make each one likable or tangible in their own unique ways as to give these stereotypes interesting personalities. Bloody genius!
By the gods I loved this book. Next time I'm at Powell's I'm buying #2 and continuing with the adventures of the citizens of a small town called Palomar.
I must also say that I'm not too scrupulous when reading graphic novels, yet this one is an example of how much you should pay attention to each detail. I understood it a lot more doing so.
Heartbreak Soup is the first collection on Gilbert Hernandez's Palomar stories from the best comic book ever of all time, Love and Rockets.
The Palomar stories are set in the small town of Palomar. The stories are told in a magic realism style reminiscent of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. (Gilbert actually calls out the similarities in one of the stories in this collection.)
These stories introduce us to the people of Palomar and tell stories about their daily lives. Each character introduced has their own backstory and place in the overall narrative. The stories are an examination of the life of a small town with a heavy dose of fun soap operatic humor and drama.
Reading this book was like having sex with Gilbert Hernández: i didn't know what he was doing at first and wasn't sure i liked it; i wasn't sure what i should be doing at first and was afraid i was messing things up; but eventually it felt about as good as i think it can get with somebody you don't love. 3.5 stars.
Based on other reviewers' opinions, i probably should've read something else as my first foray into the worlds created by the Bros. Hernández. Maybe Locas?
"I don't really understand why the material of Love and Rockets isn't widely regarded as one of the finest pieces of fiction of the last 35 years. Because it is." - Neil Gaiman
In January, 2020 we discussed various works by the Hernandez brothers - Gilbert, Jaime, and Mario: The Love and Rockets graphic novels. Iconic work! These graphic novels are excellent examples of Latinx history & literature.
Our group had mixed reviews on some of the portrayals of women and inclusivity, but over all, they had positive reviews.
Uma latinidade tão plena. Hernandez não tenta te vender nada. Ele relata. Toda emoção é sutil e natural. Toda sensação remonta um mundo que parece distante e ao mesmo tempo familiar. A vida é cheia de fragmentos bizarros e personagens mutantes. Uma hora ou outra todos vamos tomar uma sopa de "que pena".
The first story in this collection was solid, but didn't really prove itself in terms of how well the series is regarded. And then there was the rest of the book. Amazing. Highly recommended. Now, to try out some of Jamie's stuff.
Really damned good. Much deeper than most could imagine; sometimes waiting years to come back to certain plot threads. The Bros Hernandez are "The Shit."
After reading the entire Locas storyline by Jaime Hernandez up to the most current issue of Love and Rockets, I was almost nervous circling back to the beginning and starting Love and Rockets' other major storyline - the Palomar stories by Jaime's brother Gilbert (a.k.a. Beto). I'd read many of these stories long ago, but I wondered: could the Palomar stories really be as good as I remembered?
Yes, they are. The town of Palomar is a virtuosic creation. Upon reading it, many will no doubt compare it to Marquez's Macondo - an imaginary Latin American village that serves as the setting for a sprawling story that stretches across generations, sprinkled with numerous magical realist touches. And, in fact, Beto name-checks Marquez early in the Palomar stories, knowing these comparisons are inevitable.
But honestly, as blasphemous as it might seem to many, I think Beto's Palomar saga is superior to One Hundred Years of Solitude. First of all, Beto, like his brother, puts the spotlight firmly on his female characters. Second - again, like Jaime - Beto has a keen sensitivity to the humanity and travails of queer people. These talents shine forth from the very start, in the fantastic opening story of the saga, "Heartbreak Soup", which introduces us to the dizzying array of endlessly compelling people who inhabit Palomar while framing them within the story of two men who began as childhood friends but ended up lovers. There's Chelo, the bañadora and secret sex worker who becomes the town sheriff; Luba, the large-breasted matriarch-in-the-making who comes into town and usurps Chelo's role as town bañadora; Carmen, the tiny girl with a treacherous temper but also a generous heart; Tonantzin, the town floozy with unusual insight into geopolitics; Vicente, the boy with the deformed face who moves to the neighboring city of San Fideo and struggles at the edge of destitution; Israel, the muscle-bound pansexual gigolo forever in search of the twin sister who disappeared one day during an eclipse; and of course, there's Manuel, the would-be Casanova who beds women left and right while in a deeply closeted relationship with his best friend Soledad.
And many, many more. The variety of stories that Beto tells just in this opening volume of the collected Palomar stories is truly stunning, the characters so gripping that by the time the few dozen pages that comprise its opening story are said and done, Palomar and its people feel completely real, and you relish the prospect of reading the four decades' worth of stories that follow it.
Many have said it, but I'm happy to echo the sentiment: it's amazing that Love and Rockets contains not one but two of the best long-form narratives in all of American fiction. I can't wait to read through saga of the people of Palomar.
Heartbreak Soup (Luba and Palomar #1) Gilbert Hernandez
It took me a little while to get into this, I found it quite confusing at first and I had a hard time to keep track of the characters. The book is a mix of some very short vignettes and some longer stories, taking place in the isolated village of Palomar, somewhere in Central America (I don't think a country is ever mentioned...) The stories jump around temporally, so we follow the characters at different periods of their lives, at first this is a little surprising (especially when you are still trying to figure out who is who...) but it works; once you are used to it, it gives the book a pretty steady rhythm.
The characters are deeply flawed; they don't often treat each other well. Most of them either want to leave Palomar, or are trying to resign themselves to stay there forever. The stories are stories of love and lust, first and foremost; and of betrayal and friendship, of the past catching up with the present. An early sign welcomes the reader: "Welcome to Palomar. Population: 386. Where the men are men and the women need a sense of humor." That's putting it lightly.
As I said, it took me a bit to get into, but once I did, what a reading pleasure those little stories are! I enjoyed the magical realism, but it is mostly the motley cast of characters that propel the universe forward. Flawed as they are in their struggles, I got attached. I was pretty happy to discover that it was only the beginning of the series.
Gilbert's contribution to the seminal alternative comics magazine, "Love and Rockets", was the creation of the town of Palomar and its many eclectic inhabitants. The stories collected in "Heartbreak Soup" can be a bit choppy at times with the excessive use of flashbacks/flashforwards and the sizeable cast of characters. There is a bit of a soapy feel to the various Palomar stories, but with a nice touch of surrealism to really keep the reader guessing. There is also a distinct charm and humor to the many stories.
The stories by Gilbert are surprisingly refined from the jump, but even then specific qualties become much more pronounced over the years. The storytelling becomes a bit more economical in terms of script and the artwork takes on a much more distinctive flair. Perhaps the best story in this collection is "Duck Feet", a story where Luba falls into a hole and is too embarassed to call for help. It's really the perfect Palomar story, since it involves a wide range of characters involved in a fairly mundane escapade but told from a completely innovative and bizarre way.
While one flaw to the Palomar tales is the lack of focus on a few protagonists, I do think this acts also as a distinctive feature to make Gilbert's stories stand out. Each story feels unpredictable in terms of direction since it feels like he gets to work with a blank slate each time. It's a wonderous way to tell a story and it makes for such a gripping read.