 Chronicle cover, Vol. 5, No. 25, August 15, 1986 |
A phone call from Harvey Pekar is always an occasion. An occasion for stark
terror — oh no, he’s back! — as well as incipient amusement: Harvey
Pekar’s presence is always welcome here.
“You want to write for us, Harve?” Yikes — what do you ask
someone like Harvey Pekar to write about?
Harvey Pekar is a jazz critic, a comic strip author, a literary critic, a
beloved curmudgeon of the highest order. A resident of Cleveland, Ohio, Pekar
works at a Veterans Hospital as a file clerk while producing a vast array of
works. His bout with cancer was detailed in the book he co-authored with wife
Joyce Brabner, Our Cancer Year, while his collaborative comic series
with Robert Crumb, American Splendor, is rife with wicked black humor.
I looked at the calendar of the dates Harvey was going to be in town —
Valentine’s Day! “Harvey, why don’t you write about love for me?”
“Love??” he blustered incredulously, then groused, “I can’t write about
love.”
I thought about his comic strip we ran last year on a little-known jazz
vocalist named Sheila Jordan. Pekar’s tough but tender narrative made me think
warmly of this woman I’d never heard of or seen.
“Harvey, you know plenty about love,” I smiled. “But write about whatever you
like.”
— Margaret Moser
|
This article appears in February 14 • 1997 and February 14 • 1997 (Cover).