There are lovers and haters of Ghost World, and I have to say that I understand both of them.  This is an intensely off-putting book of whining nasty teen girls who punch down on a world which is often very nearly as terrible as they are. We keep seeking something to redeem somebody, anywhere, and we come up short. They use and shame their friends with an utter lack of empathy for their discomfort. They abuse strangers in cruel ways. And then they lament that no one will love them. If this is comedy (as it is billed), what is its nature? Satire? Nonsense: there is nothing here that looks like a statement of purpose. Mere parody? If so, our author Clowes shows no irony and so is as guilty. I can't fathom it.

But . . . (and it's a little qualifier, absolutely), we have a few frames that also show that our two girls are themselves vulnerable, frail, victims of a world which alienates from its absurdity. There are quiet moments of exposure: a shame-faced late-night visit, a minor act of restitution, a connection to someone more remote than even themselves. . . .

For me, I think this is almost--but not nearly--enough to redeem the story. The problem is that these moments are too few, unattached to anything significant, and lead nowhere important in the plotting. There is a crisis of friendship, but what it is based upon is difficult to follow. One could argue that such emptiness and unraveling of tidy plot is itself the point, but even here readers deserve some clarity of purpose. It's not like we've had no writers of an absurd world as models prior to Clowes. This has been done, frequently--and far better.

It's true that I unconsciously compared this to Tamaki's Skim which I recently read and is a far-better conception of two nay-saying teen girls. I highly recommend it.

But it's also true that I rewatched the film version of Ghost World, and this is a far better story. I relate it here only as a contrast to what the graphic novel does. First, the actors are in fine form and do a far better job of revealing that vulnerability and brokenness consistently. More, though, Clowes had a large hand in writing the screenplay and made significant changes and expansions: he tightened up the storytelling by combining major characters and events; then he expanded on the relationships with those characters. Suddenly (lo and behold!), we have much of what the graphic novel lacks: empathy and interest. The final choice of the book is suddenly much more powerful and justifiable. The film even has--what would you call it?--oh, theme.

So, I'm appreciative that I read the book first, if only because I could witness the author re-envisioning--revising--what he wanted to accomplish. Perhaps had he done such revision before publishing the graphic novel, this would have been far more successful. He's hardly the first in this club: Peter Benchley, Thomas Harris, Lauren Weisberger, Nicholas Sparks, Gregory Maguire--but at least Clowes took the chance to make it better himself. And I appreciate it!

it just felt too edgy, and i preferred the movie (i know, i know).