John Ruscher

My Saturday began and ended badly. After blowing a tire on the way to work, I had to lock up my bike in industrial Bushwick and catch the annoying weekend shuttle bus that has temporarily replaced the L Train out in these parts. After work, on arriving back at the pole to which I had attached it, I found that my trusty red cycle had vanished.

The night was poised to end on this low note, but luckily I found a package from Drag City sitting inside the door to my apartment. In it was David Berman’s new book, The Portable February. Filled from beginning to end with illustrations that are scathingly witty, hilariously irreverent and absurdly delightful, The Portable February helped my evening bounce back to a much less gloomy level.

Some of Berman’s comics don’t make sense (at least to me), and that’s fine. Often an elusive punch line or topsy-turvy visual presentation can offer more than a straight up New Yorker-style delivery. Berman’s drawings aren’t what you would call “skilled,” but his simple stickfiguredness succeeds with a minimal directness.

And, in these days of pixels, Twitter, Kindles, etc., it’s almost overwhelmingly wonderful to crack open a book that is nothing but hand-drawn lines from title page and ISBN to back cover and price tag. The only synthetic image on the whole book is the barcode sticker on the back, and it felt so crude and out of place that I immediately peeled it off.

The Portable February is something you should have. It’s slim and (as its title suggests) mobile, and its great to flip through when you’ve just had your bike stolen, and, I imagine, in many similar and dissimilar situations. If you’re a fan of Silver Jews or Berman’s poetry, well, that’s all the more reason you should pick up this little gem.