I didn’t think Grant Snider made comics quickly enough to put out a book every year – he’s a working orthodontist, as I always find a way to fit in when I write about his work, since it’s such a highly-skilled, well-paid, and useful career and yet anti-glamorous and low profile at the same time – but this one came less than a year after the last one. So he may be more productive even than I give him credit for.
If I call Snider a cartoonist of introspection and hard-fought positivity, that might sound like spinach, or like the kind of thing you’d find in the New Age store next to the singing bowls and horrible incense. But he is, and his work is much better, more grounded, than that description might imply. Maybe because he’s from Kansas City: there’s an inherently Midwestern sensibleness and focus on real, everyday life in his work. Snider never feels like he’s intellectualizing, even as he does entire books about poetry (last year’s
) or creativity (
) or even the potentially-pretentiously titled
. All his work is personal – often because he has his self-insert character at the middle of his comics, but even his other characters walk that difficult line between Everypeople and particular.
, like several of Snider’s books, is “organized” by a single exemplary comic up front, which provides chapter titles into which everything else slots. In this case, it’s a single page headed “I think, therefore…” with nine panels of different endings to that sentence, from “I overthink” to “I am.” Each one of those panels turns into a half-title for a section of the book, with thematically related comics afterward.
It’s all thematically related, of course: the overall theme is, like so much of Snider’s work, those intertwined desires: to be happy, to do meaningful things in our lives, to be better, to be present, to be authentically ourselves, to just be without twisting ourselves into knots along the way with all of those desires. This time out, the focus is on thinking, mostly overthinking, given those themes and modern life in general.
Snider’s little figures, especially that author-insert and the others drawn to that scale, always remind me of R.O. Blechman – Snider has the same energy and looseness, his people equally able to go anywhere and do anything within their little boxes. He uses color well, usually just a few within a single strip, and his palette shifts by his subject matter – I’ve mostly seen him use flat, comic-style colors, but he also does watercolor-looking strips and some newer pieces with color gradients in the backgrounds.
You have to be willing to be positive to read Snider’s comics, to be willing to want to be better and to want to connect with other people and the world. That may be a big ask these days, especially for the kind of people who are defined by their own anger and hatred. I would like to think Snider’s work can help put people into the right mood and mindset, but I know the world is far too full of people who are never introspective, never thinking about the consequences of their actions, never concerned with other people at all. But that’s just yet another way that this world, and living in it, is difficult and painful…and, nevertheless, worth it. That’s what Snider’s work is all about, in the end: how to live in the world well, even with all the obstacles the world and ourselves throw up. That’s heroic in its way, and deeply necessary, and entirely admirable. Thinking About Thinking is another fine collection of work in that project.
