Comix Influx Blog: Review: Proper Go Well High

Ollie East continues his pedestrian odyssey in Proper Go Well High, the second of his Trains Are… Mint series, published by Blank Slate Books. It treads a similar path to the first book (reviewed last year), with East detailing a walking journey, following train tracks (as far as practical), this time from Manchester to Liverpool. It would be understandable to worry that East is in a rut, repeating the same format of his debut, but that fear turns out to be unfounded. Proper Go Well High is a darker, more personal and more accomplished work than its predecessor.

Firstly, East is clearly gaining confidence in his art. While still rudimentary, it is bolder, more detailed and take more stylistic risks – and more successfully. At the end of one day’s tough walking, East depicts an oppressive sun dominating the landscape over several panels – it’s a swirling, radiant sun, with rays and complex patterns like a metallic sunflower. Partly through the primitive nature of East’s art, he conveys the sense of a giant, primeval sun, cruelly beating down on the poor walker.

We learn that there is an 18 month gap roughly a third of the way through the book and that marks a change in East’s mood. He makes a passing reference to losing a best friend (a falling out, I infer), which he does not expand upon, and generally seems to feel the lack of human contact much more. To be fair, he also alludes to a difficult and distant relationship with his father in the first, cheerier third of the book but still he seems much more chipper in this part, instructing himself to “rein it in”. In the later sections he has apparently become more willing to open up. As a telling example, the title of Trains Are… Mint arose because of East’s stammer, the ellipsis evoking his difficulty in coming out with the final word. But that is never explained in the first book, nor mentioned elsewhere – it is hidden in plain sight to be sure, but is still only implicit. In Proper Go Well High he goes much further. “Out here, no stammer” he says at one point and later he devotes a whole section to the difficulty his stammer causes in buying a bottle of water. One page is given to his preparing the right phrase to say, a second for him waiting until other people have left the shop before going in to avoid embarrassment, and then a third to his depiction of CCTV footage of him making his way to the counter (over 8 panels). Finally, the fourth page consists of a single, domineering borderless image of a looming – though pleasant looking – shopkeeper, who casually preempts East’s carefully prepared sentence leaving East virtually wordless. Four pages devoted to one simple purchase. It’s a great little sequence, but more than that it illustrates how East has become much more revelatory in his story telling.

Okay, Ollie East is not always downbeat

In Trains Are… Mint, East was an ingenuous traveller, recording what he saw with a healthy cynicism but a great openness. He took a delight in the journey, not rushing, apparently unoncerned about his progress. This spirit is still evident is in the first section of Proper Go Well High, before his 18-month hiatus: East takes a wrong turn, but is pleased as it takes him further along the railway tracks. In the latter sections he shows no such delight in his journey. This time he seems much more focussed on getting to Liverpool. If Trains Are… Mint was about the journey, Proper Go Well High is about East finding his destination. This feeling of urgency to arrive – almost a dissatisfaction with where he is – pervades the book. Perhaps predictably, this eventually leads to East being dissatisfied when he does arrive. The narrative almost feels like it dissolves as he arrives in Liverpool; the gutters between the panels widen, as if in disorientation and panic as he experiences each individual moment. It feels like nothing so much as an existential crisis. Finally, the last two pages show East sitting on the steps of the station, repeated panels showing his inaction at the end of the journey. Eventually he gets up, leaves forgetting his bag on the steps, returns to pick it up, and then finally goes, leaving us just looking at the empty steps. I found it a bleak ending.

Spirals are a constant motif throughout the book – gusts of wind, rain falling from a roof, the hail surrounding him, even the stylised curl of a girl’s hair. In particular, the paths and train tracks are repeatedly shown coiling around buildings. They can be taken as a metaphor for East’s journey as whole – it is really a journey inwards, into himself. In a sense, all journeys are, but it is interesting to contrast this with the more straight-forward approach of Trains Are… Mint. Okay, okay – this may all seem like I’m reading way too much into an original but slight journal comic, with attractive but simplistic art. Maybe I am, but personally I am amazed at how much richness can be conjured up in such a scant premise.

Despite being a big fan of Trains Are… Mint, I had been worried that this book would simply be more of the same. But my fears were entirely unfounded – East has produced a great, affecting, thought-provoking book. A worthy successor to Trains Are… Mint. I don’t know how he manages it, but I’m looking forward to see where his next book takes him, and where it finds him.