Product Description

One Hundred Demons collects a series of memoiristic strips that appeared in Salon’s popular "Mothers Who Think" section. Here are 20 stories told in Lynda Barry’s distinctive cartoon-narrative style that delve into the funk and sweetness of love, family, adolescence, race and the 'hood, identity — all the forces that made her the "wreck" she is today. Barry distinguishes these stories with her pitch-perfect sense of the way young people talk and think and her ability to casually render childhood’s cruelties in luminous, unsparing detail. From her nattering and intolerant/loving Filipina grandmother to the ex-boyfriend from hell who had lice, One Hundred Demons paints a memorable picture of a gifted girl whose life is intersected by a cast of crazies. Hailed for its shimmering watercolor images and called by Time magazine "a work of art as well as literature," this collection makes an important addition to the genre Barry has sardonically christened "autobiofictionalography."

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #139790 in Books
• Published on: 2005-08-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 224 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9781570614590
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

From Publishers Weekly
As anyone who's read her comic strip Ernie Pook's Comeek or novel Cruddy knows, Barry has a pitch-perfect sense of the way kids talk and think. Childhood's cruelties and pleasures, remembered in luminous, unsparing detail, have become the central topic of her work. The semi-autobiographical vignettes of this new work, originally serialized in Salon, follow the same basic format as the strip: blocks of enthusiastic first-person commentary at the top of each panel, squiggly, childlike-but stylized-drawings and dizzy word-balloon dialogue between the characters. Here, though, Barry gets a chance to stretch out, drawing out her memories and impressions into long, lively, sometimes sweet and sometimes painful narrative sequences on a seemingly endless list of curiously compelling topics: the scents of people's houses (one is "a combination of mint, tangerines, and library books"), dropping acid at 16 with a grocery bagger, the colors of head lice and the art of domesticating abused shelter dogs. The structure of the book is a drawing exercise that allows a hundred demons to flow out of the artist's pen onto paper. Barry's demons are the personal objects and effects that remind her of the in-between emotional states from her early life. The result is simultaneously poignant and hilarious-never one at the expense of the other-and so are her loopy, sure-lined drawings, which make both the kids and the adults look as awkward and scrunched-up as they feel.
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From School Library Journal
Adult/High School-Barry uses an Asian painting exercise called "One Hundred Demons" to organize and connect 17 "autobifictionalographic" stories in which she meditates on a variety of demons that include pretentious boyfriends, lost childhood friends, family relationships, and even the 2000 presidential election. The author's keen observation and honesty draw readers to these sometimes painful, often poignant moments. In "Dancing," she explains that almost everyone in her family danced with great pleasure. Then a casually cruel comment from an admired neighbor made her self-conscious enough to stop. "Resilience" explores the mistaken belief of some adults that young children who have experienced a trauma will somehow forget and move past it. Here Barry allows speech balloons to fill in the gaps to which she alludes in her main text, with heart-wrenching effect. A more lighthearted story deals with the unique smells that permeate homes. Most of each story is told in text blocks at the top of the panel, while speech balloons convey specific details and characterizations. Barry's artwork is almost childlike, and the awkwardness of her drawings works well with the emotional tone her tales evoke. In the last few pages, she demonstrates the technique used for the original exercise and encourages readers to draw from their own experiences. This is an amazing collection, and those who connect with it will come away with a deep appreciation for Barry.
Jody Sharp, Harford County Public Library, MD
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
Cartoonist and novelist Barry (The Good Times Are Killing Me) has published several books of comics, notably those featuring the lively young Marlys, the self-proclaimed "#1 groover on life." This oblong (10" x 6") book, featuring comics that first appeared on Salon.com, is her first hardcover collection and her first book in color. It's a series of 17 semi-autobiographical stories about the things from our pasts that haunt us. From "Head Lice and My Worst Boyfriend," Barry moves on to the dark side of the hippie dream and moving stories that touch on childhood, adolescence, and loss of innocence. Barry's text-heavy panels fit a lot of story into a few pages, and her childlike drawings seem almost designed to encourage budding artist readers. The title comes from an Asian painting exercise that inspired the book; with any luck, Barry will keep going until she reaches the magic number. Suitable for teens but more highly recommended to adults, who will identify with Barry's air of reminiscence and regret.
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Customer Reviews

Maybe Barry's best yet!
This "autobifictionalography" collects Barry's brilliant salon.com sketches of the demons we all face in our lives. It is exactly that universality that makes for magical reading. The intense specificity of childhood's horrors made me feel like I was reading my own life, not Barry's. Barry's artistry is in telling and illustrating these stories with incredible humor as well as unlimited heart. Particularly haunting of the eighteen stories are the lost friendship in "Magic" and "Resilience" which gives the lie to adult fantsies of childhood innocence. It's increasingly clear that Lynda Barry is our finest writer of the emotional lives of damaged children. She gives voice to kids that few people ever listened to. Having been one of those kids, it's an amazing feeling to realize that you are understood and you were not alone.

Just Lynda Barry's usually awesome, trippy stuff
Lynda Barry's "One! Hundred! Demons!" is just another astonishingly wonderful book in a long line of astonishingly wonderful books. Using Japanese inks and brushes, she categorizes the demons of her childhood. We see everything from resilience to hate to common scents, from magic to "girlness" to dogs to cicadas.

Among the many pleasures of the book--Barry's extremely simple yet enormously evocative illustrations, the awesome ear she has for the way children speak to each other, the cheerful colors belying much of the sadness inherent in her work--is the section entitled "Magic." This regards Barry's rejection, at age thirteen, of her two-years-younger best friend. It's easy to tell that even more than thirty years later, Barry feels shame over this episode. She so deftly sketches the psyche of her thirteen-year old self that we are left alternating between complete understanding of her actions and rueful sorrow that she couldn't ignore the age difference.

This is a funky, trippy book that's simultaneously a quick read and something you want to linger over the second (and third, and fourth) time you read it. Long may Lynda Barry rule!

Wow
I stayed up late into the night to read this book, frequently crying. Lynda Barry has clearly made an effort to be as honest as possible, and as a result, these stories just really ring true. This book is a rare combination of funny and sad and smart. She handles some pretty lofty themes--memory, abuse of power, family--with an insistence on staying in reality. It's a provocative book, and a pleasure to read. I'm buying copies for several of my friends.