‘Howl’ TPB (review)

Written by Alisa Kwitney
Art by Mauricet
Published by AHOY Comics

With the passing of time, I find myself giving less and less importance to Allen Ginsberg.

Growing up, he seemed to be everywhere. He was part of the Beat Generation of the 1950s, he’s in Bob Dylan’s classic “Subterranean Homesick Blues” short film, he was at Woodstock.

He was like a real-world Zelig or Forrest Gump, present at so many important points in history…but he didn’t really seem to do anything at any of them. The one thing he did on his own that has lasted is his epic poem, “Howl,” with its perceptive opening line, “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness.”

That’s where Alisa Kwitney’s Howl takes off.

If one tries to pin down a meaning for Ginsberg’s Howl, it could be said to celebrate the outliers, those men and women who for one reason or another never could or did fit into what was seen as mainstream America.

In his day, that meant, amongst others, the Beatniks, homosexuals, drug addicts, bohemians, folkies, and unconventional artists. But what if it also included…aliens?

That’s the premise of Ms. Kwitney’s comic series turned graphic novel, illustrated by Mauricet (who dedicates the book to Wallace Wood!). Meaning no disrespect to the artist, I have to say that all through the book the smoothness and the coloring of the artwork give the distinct impression of being AI-generated. Despite that all-too-familiar look, a number of pages of breakdowns at the back of the book show that not to be the case.

The story itself follows our heroine, Ziva, who lives in the non-conformist Greenwich Village of the 1950s and who finds, Invasion of the Body Snatchers-style, that little by little everyone around her is being replaced by aliens. This includes her science-fiction writer boyfriend. For the longest time she doesn’t know what’s going on as everyone’s personality changes. Eventually she finds out and—SPOILER—despite some contentiousness, doesn’t care, and they all live happily ever after.

Yeah, that’s about it for the story. There are some clever bits, with some well-written dialogue, and some characters better rounded out than others. My favorite is Ziva’s very traditionally Jewish mother. There are a number of literary references, as well as a lovely, if anachronistic, Peter Max effect in the art at one point.

What really takes this Howl to a whole new level, though, are the text pieces at the end. Here. Kwitney reveals that the book’s two main characters are actually inspired by her own parents, well-known science-fiction writer Robert Sheckley (whose work I used to run across all the time in the 1970s) and his second wife, Ziva Kwitney. With individual biographies for each one, illustrated with photos, and the story of how they met, the reader gets a better feel for the characters in the story who aren’t QUITE them.

Quoting her former teacher Joyce Johnson, Alisa writes, “Writing memoir contains more fiction, and fiction more autobiography, than any writer cares to admit.” I love that quote. It’s my favorite thing from this book. When you tell your own story, it’s hard to resist the desire to leave out some of the messier parts, or make yourself look better in events where no one could ever contradict you. In fiction, however, you can slip in the grungiest parts of your story without anyone necessarily knowing it’s about you.

Howl is about Alisa Kwitney. It’s also about her parents and their relationship. Unless everyone they knew, however, was taken over by alien spores, then it’s also fiction. As fiction, it tries to build its sci-fi version of Ginsberg off of a moment in history that now feels itself like pure fiction, but despite some strong efforts, I don’t feel like it succeeded.