Strangers

By Regie Rigby

WARNING! THIS COLUMN CONTAINS SOME SPOILERS RELATING TO STRANGERS IN PARADISE #43. READ IT ANYWAY THOUGH…

Regular readers of Fool Britannia will be aware that my pile of unread comics has been growing at an alarming rate since I quit my previous life in administration and went into teaching. (Which I have already done, in spite of what it says in the biog at the side of the page. I’ll get around to updating it at some point…) If you are a regular reader you’ll also have heard me refer to Terry Moore’s excellent series Strangers in Paradise series in glowing terms.

I discovered this series late, almost by accident in fact. Burge, my long-suffering best friend lent me the first S.I.P. collection almost as soon as it came out, but I didn’t read it. I kept meaning to, but there was always something else more pressing or more enticing, and the little trade paperback stayed on my shelf. Burge kept asking me if I’d read it yet, assuring me that I’d love it, and I just kept giving her excuses. Eventually, she gave up, and the trade paperback continued to sit in frustrated isolation – a permanent resident of my “to read” pile.

And it stayed there until Terry Moore came to UKCAC ’97. Burge rang me to arrange where we’d meet up (we always attack conventions together) and closed the conversation with:

”Make sure you bring my Strangers in Paradise – I want to get it signed!”

Accordingly (and I suspect somewhat against Burge’s expectations, since I’m rubbish at remembering things) I remembered to pack the still unread trade paperback before setting off on the long trip from North Yorkshire to central London. What I did forget to pack however, was my book. I realised that it was still sitting on my desk at home! I was devastated, and facing a whole train journey with nothing to read!

Then I remembered Burge’s trade paperback nestling quietly in my backpack. With a sigh of relief I took it out and started to read.

Then I read it again.

Then, as my train approached Kings Cross Station in London, I flicked through it again and read some of my favourite bits just one more time.

Once at UKCAC I picked up all three of the Strangers in Paradise trades available at that time, and read them all in one sitting. I can’t tell you just how good they were. Here, rendered in Moore’s clean, and occasionally funky black and white line work was a story of astonishing complexity, compassion and humour.

For those not in the know, Strangers in Paradise pivots around a romantic triangle between Katchoo, Francine and David. David loves Katchoo, a tough streetwise artist with a mysterious and violent past. Katchoo (who is introduced to the reader when she shoots her alarm clock – naturally I loved her instantly) however loves Francine. Francine (who isn’t gay, just to complicate matters for Katchoo) is in love with the idea of love. At the start of the first story arc Francine is in love with the vile and shallow Freddie Femur. Other, equally unsuitable and equally doomed relationships with men will follow, and you know this even before you know much more about Francine.

And outside of this intense relationship stands David. David is quiet, but brave, and impulsive and above all persistent. There is much more to him than meets the eye. You know that he’d die for Katchoo, but then with the secrets he’s keeping from her he may have to.

Moore’s trick is quite simple. Indeed, it’s one that I wish other creators would imitate – he makes you care about the characters because they’re real. You learn a little more about them each time you meet them, just like you do with people in the real world. They have their idiosyncrasies, they have their flaws – again just like the people you meet in the world outside the comics page.

Over the years, we readers have shared in the chaotic lives of Francine, Katchoo and David. Almost all of us have fallen in love just a little with at least one of them. Believe me when I tell you that Moore hasn’t given anyone an easy ride. Each member of the trio has suffered pain, both physical and psychological at the hands of those they loved or trusted. Each member of the trio has had to watch someone they love slip further away from them, with no way of knowing if they’ll ever find a way back.

More than once I have hurled a copy of Strangers in Paradise clear across the room in sheer frustration as Moore has bounced the story of Francine and Katchoo’s relationship through time, flashing back into their past, and out into their future. More than once, I have found myself shouting at them to just “GET ON WITH IT!” To tell each other how they really feel. To sort their relationship out and stop keeping David hanging on, hoping that someday Katchoo will return his affection.

But I stuck with them, because they’re real, and because to be honest I find myself doing something similar with all my friends at some point or other…

Except I think the final straw may have now landed on my stubborn camel’s back.

I just read Strangers in Paradise #43.

Now, as I mentioned right at the start, my “to read” pile is huge, and I realise that many of you will have read this issue a while ago so I apologise for coming to the party late. But this is the first time I have ever reached the end of the final page of a comic book and found myself so furious!

What the hell was that all about?!

Francine and Katchoo as old women, together at last having sorted out all of their differences I can live with. I applaud it! I’m happy that they found each other finally, even if they don’t explain what happened to David.

Francine has a grown up daughter who writes books? No problem. Francine always wanted children. I’m happy for her.

The story I spent the last four years of my life following as avidly as my own being the novel that daughter wrote about her “mothers” lives? The story I spent the last four years of my life following as avidly as my own being nothing more than a “version” of the events of their lives?

No fucking way!

I was furious! I felt as though my friends has been lying to me all of that time. It was worse than all those imaginary stories they used to tell about the Batman.

So, I rang Burge and vented some spleen. I said basically what I just wrote above, but more loudly, and at greater length. When I eventually stopped ranting there was silence on the other end of the ‘phone for a second before Burge said:

“Regie? You know they aren’t real, don’t you?”

Which of course begs the question, “What is real?”

I mean, yes, I know that Katchoo and Francine live only in the mind of Terry Moore, and on the pages he draws. But if you can just arbitrarily decide that five years of storyline can be rendered irrelevant at a stroke, then what is the point of telling the story in the first place?

Except of course, if you go too far down that road you end up in the realms of the continuity worshiping geekery that I spend so much of my time berating. Surely the point is that I got pleasure from reading all of those stories. Isn’t that enough? And if “rebooting” the series allows other interesting and entertaining stories to be told about the characters I have grown to love a good thing?

(Except if I accept that completely I end up endorsing the spirit of Hal Roth’s argument that no continuity should last more than twelve issues. Fool Britannia endorsing the Roth philosophy. That’s frightening...)

So, am I making a fuss about nothing? Does it matter? What is more important, that a writer remains true to his characters, or the histories of those characters? In a world where everything is fictional, can anything be said to be cast in stone?

I don’t know.

Clearly I’m uncomfortable with the way Moore is going with Katchoo, Francine and David. (Didja notice that?) But I’ll stick with the series anyway because Moore has told me enough stories now that I’m prepared to trust that he’ll keep telling me good ones.

But I’m going to be a difficult man to please for a bit. #44 had better be good…