Now go read it. Bring tissues. And don’t say I didn’t warn you about the paper cut-out.
Not because it’s the most fun. It’s not. Not because it’s the most epic. It’s microscopic. Not because it’s the most popular. It’s famously difficult. fucking possible comic best
Watchmen is smarter. Maus is more important. Sandman is more magical. But Jimmy Corrigan is the truth. And the truth, however miserable, is always the fucking best. Now go read it
You stare at the page. You say aloud:
For years, we’ve danced around the question with careful, academic disclaimers. “Art is subjective.” “You can’t compare Maus to Amazing Spider-Man #122 .” “It depends on what you mean by ‘best.’” Not because it’s the most fun
The ending is famously scrambled. The manga outstrips the film, but the final volume feels like Otomo got tired. A comic that stumbles at the finish line cannot claim the throne. The Winner: Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth by Chris Ware Here’s where you say: “What the fuck? A sad, lonely, red-haired dweeb in a tiny bowtie? Over Watchmen ? Over Maus ?”
It’s the best because it does what only comics can do: It makes time visible. It makes loneliness architectural. It turns a paper object into a mirror big enough to hold every failure, every quiet Sunday, every father who didn’t call.