Here

Here is Richard McGuire's unique graphic novel based on the legendary 1989 comic strip of the same name. Richard McGuire's groundbreaking comic strip Here was published under Art Spiegelman's editorship at RAW in 1989. Built in six pages of interlocking panels, dated by year, it collapsed time and space to tell the story of the corner of a room - and its inhabitants - between the years 500,957,406,073 BC and 2033 AD. The strip remains one of the most influential and widely discussed contributions to the medium, and it has now been developed, expanded and reimagined by the artist into this full-length, full-colour graphic novel - a must for any fan of the genre.

About the Author :
Richard McGuire is a regular contributor to the New Yorker magazine. He has written and illustrated both children's books and experimental comics, including the seminal work Here. His work has appeared in The New York Times, McSweeney's, Le Monde and Liberation. He has written and directed two omnibus feature films, designed and manufactured his own line of toys, and is also the founder and bass player of the band Liquid Liquid. His most recent book is Sequential Drawings, published by Hamish Hamilton.

Review :
Brilliant and revolutionary . . . In Here, McGuire has introduced a third dimension to the flat page. He can poke holes in the space-time continuum simply by imposing frames that act as trans­temporal windows into the larger frame that stands for the provisional now. “Here” is the ­comic-book equivalent of a scientific breakthrough. It is also a lovely evocation of the spirit of place, a family drama under the gaze of eternity and a ghost story in which all of us are enlisted to haunt and be haunted in turn The magic of Here is that somehow, alchemically, this sparse little exercise begins to yank on your emotions. As your eye lurches around the page, as you flip back and forth between pages, an irresistible sentiment swells. Rare among conceptual works, Here manages to tug your heart even as it undercuts your comfortable role of reader . . . Meanwhile, though, the past and present humans continue their tender little lives. Telling stories, playing, making love — what will be their fate? That’s just one of the countless questions Here leaves unanswered. Even so, it’s deeply satisfying. Kind of like a story that never ends McGuire is able to wring a surprising array of emotions from simple lines and blocks of muted colour interspersed with deliberately hackneyed jokes and the uncanny wisdom of the everyday. And the non-chronological arrangement seems faithful to how consciousness really works, the way we shape and reshape the story of ourselves by editing and re-editing highlights from our lives. I found it compelling to shuttle around in time to discover how earlier events informed later ones. Midway through the book one character says to another: ‘Life has a flair for rhyming events.’ Clearly, McGuire does too Later spreads flash with terrible and ancient supremacy, impending cataclysm, and distant, verdant renaissance, then slow to inevitable, irresistible conclusion. The muted colors and soft pencils further blur individual moments into a rich, eons-spanning whole. A gorgeous symphony