My Brain Is Hanging Upside Down
Pantheon Books

128 pages

$24.95

Release date: September 30, 2008

ISBN 978-0-375-425394

ICv2 Stars: 1.5 (out of 5)

David Heatley seems like the mutant love child of Lynda Barry and Seinfeld, and not in a good way.  The book is a blend of supposedly autobiographical segments blended with the recounting of dreams, mostly his own.  They just aren’t very interesting.

The difficulty with the format is that most of the segments, while linked thematically in groups, are disjointed.   Also, the reader ends up wondering how many of  the “true” stories are really true.  In one section he mentions having appendicitis in 1997... but two pages later he explains that his appendix burst in 1993, related to a completely different story that he’s telling.  So, is this autobiography or fiction?

The core of the book is called “Black History,” a series of vignettes portraying Heatley’s own life and “An incomplete catalog of every Black person I’ve ever known... plus a few record reviews.”  From Heatley’s own portrayal, he was always wishy-washy, following the last idea presented to him.  Sometimes he comes across as a mild racist, other times as wanting to be as Black as possible, although his family history stories explain that he’s mainly Irish/Italian in ancestry.

Another section deals with sex [he stated that he wasn’t including any strips about sex with his wife], and in this section he’s also wishy-washy.  He shows himself having sex with any willing female, and masturbating to gay porn, but then questions why that combination might make people think he’s bisexual.

His relationship with his parents is too mild to be called love-hate, but ambivalence is the key there as well.  With rare exceptions the art is nothing special, the kind you see in a weekly free newspaper.  The stories are life snippets of a life not well lived, and not well told. Overall, the book is a disappointment.

For adults only, due to sex and nudity.

--Nick Smith

Pasadena Public Library