its a strange thing when the most visually exciting sequence in a chester brown book are of his dick being inspected. not bad, mind you. I think chester brown has a big dick. he keeps saying it's six inches, but girls keep saying "ow", so he's measuring wrong.
--Via Twitter, Sammy Harkham, editor of Kramers Ergot and author of Crickets, asks the hard questions (sorry) about Chester Brown's new memoir about his life as a patron of prostitutes, Paying For It. I'm enjoying Fear Itself and Flashpoint just fine, but as far as summer buzz books go, they sure don't spark conversations like this.
On a more serious tip (sorry!), Harkham also echoes an observation I myself had about the book. I won't spoil it lest I call down the wrath of Drawn & Quarterly (although Harkham does spill the beans in his tweet, so be warned, I guess?), but by far the most interesting aspect of his relationship with prostitutes, one that pretty much turns everything else in the book on its ear, is crammed into the final few pages and barely dealt with at all. "To me, that's where the book should start," says Harkham. "That's a book."
Have you read it? What did you think?