Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. They also tell you that there’s no accounting for taste. And even though they speak in clichés, we know they’re right. One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure. Perception is reality. There’s a million, well-known ways to say it, because it’s true: life is subjective.
Not that there’s nothing objective in life. There are truths. “Life is subjective” is one. Another is the fact that even though we know that life is subjective, we have a hard time applying the knowledge. We argue over which TV show is the best; whether or not a movie is good; if a friend should dump the person he or she’s dating. We fret over what other people think of us. We look to others for validation of our thoughts and opinions. And it’s in the face of the arguing and fretting and looking that Reneé French’s The Ticking (Top Shelf) speaks so powerfully.
On the first page, we learn that “Edison Steelhead was born on the kitchen floor.” On the next page, we learn that “his mother did not survive him.” Edison is born with a genetic defect that gives him an abnormally large head with his eyes on the sides instead of in the front, and with no external ears. His father, who has most of the same traits, immediately takes Edison away to live with him in an island lighthouse.
I say that Edison and his dad share “most” of the same traits because Edison’s dad’s eyes are in front. But as Edison gets older, he notices small scars on either side of his dad’s head where the eyes used to be.
The pages aren’t numbered, so I don’t know how long The Ticking is, but even though it’s a thick book, it doesn’t take long to read. Most of the pages only have one or two, small panels on them, surrounded by lots of empty space that heightens the loneliness of Edison and his dad’s lives. Those panels are beautiful though, with depth provided by lovingly penciled shading rather than inks.
But French’s illustrations aren’t the only beautiful part of The Ticking. Edison, in spite of his father’s embarrassment about their shared disfigurement, fails to see anything wrong with the way they look. He dutifully and uncomplainingly wears the full-head mask that his dad puts on him whenever visitors come to the lighthouse, but he also, in childish innocence, draws a picture of his dad that highlights the scars of the former eyeholes. And he’s hurt and genuinely confused when his dad rejects the picture.
When Dad begins setting up appointments for Edison to have plastic surgery, Edison explains that he doesn’t want the operation. The motivation for that is part naive fear of the procedure, but we also understand that Edison just really doesn’t see the need. He’s fine with the way he is. Unfortunately, Dad isn’t and their relationship begins to change.
Without spoiling anything further, it needs mentioning that Edison’s story doesn’t end so much as it just stops. There’s no major confrontation; no big speech that explains the book’s point; no closure to Edison’s life. That confused me at first, but then I realized that the lack of closure is the point of the story. A guy like Edison, refusing to see himself as a disfigured monster, doesn’t get a neatly wrapped-up ending. His life is going to be what it is. The profound and beautiful thing of it though, is that he’s okay with it.
And if we, with our infinitely less difficult lives, could attain that same level of peace about whom we are; our lives would be dramatically changed. Yeah, Edison’s a fictional character. But he doesn’t feel that way when you read The Ticking, and like all great literary characters, he has something important to tell us about ourselves.
This review was originally posted at Comic World News. I swear that my entire column isn’t going to be a bunch of reprints, but if part of its purpose is to turn you on to good stuff, that’ll occasionally include reviews I’ve written elsewhere. I promise you though that I’ll only reprint reviews of the worthiest of books, like The Ticking.
