Harvey Pekar, the author of the comic book series American Splendor and a frequent guest at one time on David Letterman's show, died Monday Morning at the age of 70.
I know there are a couple of diaries about this already, one by stegro and one by Spencer Troxell. Please check both out, the former in particular as there are a couple of very good links to some well-written obituaries.
I'm writing my own because I have a very personal memory of Harvey from back around 1987, possibly in 1986.
I was attending a comic book convention in Chicago, largely in part because Harvey was going to be there, among others.
I met Harvey and had him sign a review he'd just done for The Village Voice about the work of George Ade, particularly of his novels Artie, Pink Marsh, and Doc' Home -- kind of an esoteric hip thing to request, I know -- along with a couple of issues of American Splendor (which, in spite of his Letterman appearances, were quite difficult to obtain at the time here in Indianapolis).
We also chatted for a bit about a recent review he'd given about Art Spiegelman's Maus
in which he'd objected to the depiction of the Jews as mice. I'm not sure why, whether we'd moved on to a different subject or not, but he said I looked uncomfortable standing on the other side of the table -- one of those you might find in a public school cafeteria -- and invited me to sit with him behind the table.
To say I lept at the chance would be quite the understatemnt ;-)
We then talked for about an hour.
He talked about upcoming projects, particularly about his upcoming appearance on Letterman. He had become interested in the corporate malfeasance of GE, the corporate owner of NBC where Letterman's show was airing at the time. He showed me an article from the Plain Dealer about some of GE's skulduggery regarding one of its nuclear plants, and Harvey was contemplating, as he put it, "going out in a blaze of glory" by confronting Letterman with the talk show host's employment by GE. (I'm not sure he followed through that time, but would later in 1987.)
We also talked about the upcoming project by Harvey's wife, Joyce Brabner, Real War Stories, and indeed were visited by the artist, Bill Sienkewicz, a favorite of mine, to show Harvey the artwork for the cover, and Harvey invited me to take a look as well. We chatted a few minutes with Mr. Sienkewicz, and continued on other topics.
We were interrupted briefly one more time, this time by Joyce, who worried that Harvey had yet to eat and the two briefly discussed plans for lunch. I would describe her demeanor as something of an affectionately stern mother hen, and if you want an idea what that conversation was like, see American Splendor, which I cannot recommend highly enough -- not because it so perfectly captures the Harvey I had a chance to see, and the bit of his relationship with Joyce (to which I feel very priveleged to have witnessed but the tiniest sliver), but also because it's a brilliant piece of movie-making. (Lest the "mother hen" description impress you as a bit harsh, I saw them as very sweet together. And Hope Davis, who played her in the movie should have won the damn Oscar that year.)
The point of this is to relay something: In all the obits you will see references to his Letterman appearances, where he was prickly and irascible and, frankly, a bit misanthropic, in his demeanor. He often depicted himself in his comics this way too -- along with being a perpetual worry-wart. But here he was, taking a great deal of time just to chat with a stranger -- a fan, yes, but a stranger nevertheless.
That bespeaks of a very strong streak of generosity in the man. And I believe it is why he wrote about the ordinary life of an ordinary guy. As the character of Harvey in the movie puts it, "Ordinary life is pretty complex stuff," and he reveled in that, and it informed his artistic and political leanings.
As it does mine.
And it makes me very sad for Joyce and their adopted daughter Danielle. A man with that generosity must have been a pretty good husband and father.
Harvey, I'm an atheist, and I don't believe in an afterlife. But now I really hope there is one so that when I get there, there are plenty of Afterlife Splendor comics around to serve as an instruction manual for the art of life-after-life.
Rest well Harvey. You bloody well deserve it.