Preface by Warren Clements

This is a story without words. But is it? There are words throughout—in the frantic conversations as our hero prepares for his interview, in the clatter of discussions that must surely be going on as he walks toward his moment of reckoning, and, of course, in the climactic encounter.

But you have to imagine the words, and it is Mark Huebner's skill not only as a draughtsman/engraver but as a storyboard artist and storyteller that lets the reader fill in the missing bits. Whereas his wordless novel Let Go was a dramatic evocation of a fellow losing his job and recalling how he got to that point, here Mark is exercising his comic muscles. You can sense the hero's panic as one thing after another goes wrong—small missteps, but anyone who has splashed coffee on their shirt before an important meeting or torn something vital at precisely the wrong time will wince, sympathize and, since it is happening to our hero and not to them, laugh.

The ultimate laugh comes with the payoff at the end, which of course I would not dream of revealing here. But when you get to the interview, note the inventive way in which words that are truly important are conveyed with a speech balloon that substitutes a drawing for the missing sentence(s). And then note the way in which that drawing morphs into a different one a page or two later. (Obscure enough for you? It won't be.)

Mark has to juggle several balls in the air—the forward motion of the story, the need to make sure the reader grasps what is going on, and the inclusion of minor details that flesh out the panel or increase the reader's amusement. And did I mention he doesn't use words? Talk about a tightrope walk.

The reader has to play a part in this: to pay attention, to adapt to this form of storytelling. It is a wonderful art, practiced over the past century by such masters of the form as Lynd Ward, Frans Masereel, Milt Gross (now there was a comic artist), Laurence Hyde and George A. Walker (those last two, like Mark, working in Canada), but it makes its demands. Books of this type are not to be skimmed through; every picture tells you one important thing and possibly many other things. Happily, if you miss a connection you can go back and revisit the drawing that leads into it. Books are handy that way. And since Mark is a nifty artist, the journey is a pleasure.

[Continued in Off the Cuff]