Published
by So What? Press, Timothy Sinaguglia's Crawlspace
is an quietly complex little book that explores both burgeoning
sexuality and the interior life of modern day ennui in two short
vignettes.
Entering
into the cluttered world of Autobio or Confessional Comix, the first
story, “She Smiled Back” unpacks what, for all intents and
purposes, is another artist coming to terms with his own libidinous
awakening. For Sinaguglia, the process was one of exploration
because, as he writes, “in the early nineteen eighties, nobody
talked about sex all that much.” It is as much a harkening back to
the days of pre-internet porn, as it is an expedition into how the
discovery of one's own sexual consciousness can be a significant
moment in understanding one's self. For Sinaguglia, it becomes a
moment fraught with narcissistic overtones, yet also suffused with
questions of gender identity. In “She Smiled Back”, sexuality is
part performance, part imagination, part control, and an
encapsulation of the concept of “division”. Who is the woman who
smiles back, really? And why, out of all the things that Sinaguglia
was discovering on his journey to understanding, was it this act that
led to things finally falling “into place”?
Which
begs larger questions for me. What form does fantasy take in the mind
of an artist? What is he or she really creating and what is the price
of distancing the self from the immediate?
Sinaguglia
explores these final questions a little further in the second
three-part story in Crawlspace,
“Trudy”. “Trudy” follows the movement of the titular
character as she goes... well … basically nowhere. Trudy wanders
into the world in her white t-shirt and black skirt, observing the
bare realities of her experience and making grand statements such as:
“The sky is so black,” “God, it's sweltering,” “I have a
nice window,” and such. She engages the world by commenting on it,
but for the most part she draws no conclusions from the experiences.
At
one point, there is a brief metaphoric moment where life is “like a
merry go round, innit?” – but she quickly dismisses it as a
“weird dream” and her deadpan reaction to the possibility of
being more than that speaks volumes about her engagement with the
world. As I mentioned before, “Trudy” appears to be an artist
communicating the distance he feels from his own experiences. A
creative act focused on examining detachment seems almost at cross
purposes. Yet, Sinaguglia is able to create a work thick with the
crushing sense of boredom and modern ennui, and still make it light,
engaging, and quiet.
And
he uses all the artists tricks to do so. Sinaguglia works with
traditional metaphors of water and shadows, windows and curtains, but
somehow, through his skills as a cartoonist, they take on a
pleasantness in the midst of their possibilities. At the end, you're
not left with the question of what it is that Trudy is searching for,
rather you understand that it is a journey back to the self, the self
hidden in the crawlspace, the one out there in the wind and the
clouds and the birds.
Crawlspace
is, throughout, affirming without being ponderous in its
affirmations. Sinaguglia is able to convey his sense of confusion and
heaviness in overcast tones and grayness of pace, yet he is also able
to bathe all of it in just enough light so as to be able to see your
way out without getting blinded.
So,
again, what is the price of distancing the self from the immediate?
For Sinaguglia, at least in Crawlspace,
it is an opportunity to unburden for just a moment. Thus freed from
the burden, one can breathe, and maybe – just maybe – with each
breath comes a little acceptance of who you are.
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