If resting in peace is possible, Harvey Pekar deserves it
Posted on 12. Jul, 2010 by Jef in Art, comics, Obit
At around 1 a.m. this morning Joyce Brabner found her husband Harvey Pekar dead in their Cleveland Heights home. Pekar, a stalwart of the indie-comics scene whose American Splendor series of slice-of-life graphic novels helped create a sub-genre and were loved by comics fans and outsiders alike, was 70. A Cleveland news report puts it aptly:
Cleveland Heights Police Capt. Michael Cannon says Pekar had been suffering from prostate cancer, asthma, high blood pressure and depression. The cause of death is not yet known.
Like, damn.
In his work, Pekar captured all of those ailments with a level of detail and openness hard to fathom in this day of online over-sharing. His work has only seemed more prescient with time, even as his method of comic-strip-diary storytelling has become more commonplace. American Splendor was adapted to film in 2003 with a larynx-shredded Paul Giamatti in the title lead role, with Pekar himself serving as narrator and commentator. It was typically meta for that period in film, appropriately navel-gazing given its source material, and, luckily for us, wonderfully executed.
Famously, Pekar spent 35 years as a lowly file clerk who never once asked for a promotion. (“You’ve never planned anything in your life,” Dave Letterman once jabbed him with. “What did you plan, your wardrobe?”) Though his work was highly renowned, financial success eluded him, and his struggles to get by remained one of his favourite topics to bitch about even in his less erratic later days.
It’s the early days though that most will remember. Pekar was a notorious repeat guest on early Letterman, and the two often sparred until Letterman eventually banned him from the program for listing grievances about General Electric — then owner of NBC. Check out the clips below — they are incredibly hilarious but painfully awkward, and watching Pekar bristle at good ol’ sardonic Letterman only hints at how much Pekar must have struggled with daily interactions. Put someone that confounded by social situations in an arena of that much artifice, and it’s no wonder it went down as it famously did.
It’s easy to call Pekar an asshole, but even easier to call him a lovable one. (And over time, we’ve come to realize Letterman was kind of the prick Pekar always said he was.) (Or maybe everyone knew this all along. Before my time.) (I love them both.) Anyway, if there is an upstairs, I hope Pekar’s there, giving ‘em hell.
Anupa
Jul 12th, 2010
Harvey Pekar rules! Is this weird? I’d love for a rapper to do an obit tribute.