Saturday, August 6, 2016

Who Killed Kurt Cobain?: The Story of Boddah by Nicolas Otéro


Rating: WARTY!

Note that this was an advance review copy of a graphic novel for which I thank the publisher.

While I was glad to have the chance to read this, I have to confess up front that I was disappointed. The title makes no sense. We know who killed Cobain. The artwork for the most part was uninspired and even perfunctory, and the story felt too fanciful. Kurt Cobain had an imaginary childhood friend named Boddah, and he wrote a note to this character before he shot himself, leaving the note behind, along with his wife and young daughter.

I'm not someone who thinks that actors and musicians somehow get in touch with the mystical through drug use. I think they're simply juvenile, spoiled, and selfish morons who are often delusional. You can argue that as adults they're in charge of what happens to their bodies, but I don't think you can divorce the adult from the child, not when the child has experiences like Cobain did. He needed a better intervention than the one he got, for sure.

I don't think that Cobain was particularly brilliant or insightful or that his music was revolutionary or particularly special. It was just part of a genre, but in his case, it was magnified and amplified by his life, yet we see none of that here. He may as well not even have been a musician at all for as little reference as we got to his music in this story. I do see how people clambered aboard his bandwagon, because we see this routinely amongst humans. We're very much sheep who are drawn to cults and gangs, and clubs and societies, and to mindlessly jumping aboard bandwagons. Everyone wants to feel special which is paradoxically why we see this herding instinct so routinely.

While I wouldn't go as far as the blurb and claim Cobain is "modern rock's greatest icon" (Google puts him halfway down the first page of images!), it's not at issue that Cobain was talented and had something to say; the only curious thing I find was that evidently he didn't feel this way about himself. That would have been worth exploring, because there's no mystery about his suicide. It was entirely predictable and could have been prevented, but it was inevitable given his circumstances. Preventing it would have required a lot more care, love and real attention than was available to him. Given how hell-bent he was on self-destruction, it may be that no amount could have saved him, but we'll never know.

What I don't understand is the lemming-like rush to label these people heroes and spirit guides to the unknown. They're not. They're sick, troubled children who need help. In his case, heroic would have entailed his giving up drugs, getting treatment for his depression, and taking care of his daughter. The route he took was not heroic; it was cowardly, leaving the child to the single parenting of a woman who has evidenced pretty much as many issues as Cobain did. In many ways she become the hero, sadly fallible as that hero was, yet she gets nowhere near the attention Cobain did. Heroic would have been making a super-human effort to give his daughter a role model of how to cope and make a life, so that she doesn't go down the same drain he did. In that, he failed.

But this is a review of the graphic novel, not the life it depicts, and for me, that also failed. Yes, it told his story from a certain perspective, but it was scrappy and full of gratuitous flourishes. In my opinion, it focused foolishly on the destruction, not on the creation, on a person's weaknesses, not on his strengths - his music. The blurb claims the story is told from the perspective of the imaginary friend, made real here, but that's not the impression I got. Some of the drawings were great, but for the most part, they were so sloppy and indistinct that sometimes it was hard to tell if it was the imaginary friend or Cobain talking, and perhaps that was intentional, because in the end, there was no friend. There was only Cobain alone.

I can't recommend this because I don't see what this gave us that we didn't have before, other than an excessive amount of gratuitous nudity and gore, and none of that is revelatory these days, I'm sorry to observe.