Delights: A Story of Hieronymus Bosch
Cartoonist: Guy Colwell
Publisher: Fantagraphics
Publication Date: August 2024
It is a common thing, both in life and in fiction, to find stories of artists who see visions. The most obvious of these, in comics circles, is William Blake, who turned his visions of gods of Reason, Rebellion, and Discovery into some of the great poems and paintings. There are the seers of Shakespeare, whose poetic verse shapes the future of their damned heroes and villains. In modern days, there’s the delightful artist Johannes VIII, who uses their synesthesia to create brilliant color landscapes.
And, within the pages of Guy Colwell’s latest outing Delights, we have another visionary figure: Hieronymus Bosch. Bosch was a man of scant remaining details, from which Colwell is able to create an intriguing picture of. A man caught between his faith and the need to provide for his household, already controversial due to his aforementioned visions. And yet, we only see glimpses of these visions. They bleed into the reality of Bosch’s world without ever fully consuming it.
This is, perhaps, an apt decision. Often in the stories of visionary artists, the emphasis is placed on either the visions and/or the art. Rarely, however, is the emphasis placed on the act of working under a patron. But here, it remains at the forefront of the story. When these stories of artist and patron are told, there is often either a reverence held to the artist or an antagonism. Here, however, Colwell develops something in the middle: a critique. It is not that Bosch’s patrons hate his work, but rather that they want something the religious painter feels rather uncomfortable with delivering.
Sexuality is an undercurrent throughout the work, depicting that fine line between the erotic and the lustful. How can a man engage with such art? Can one remain faithful in depicting sin? What is the line between visionary and madman? These are the questions that linger in Bosch’s mind as he works on this art. Colwell’s writing depicts this tension admirably and with a brilliant flourish.
Further emphasizing things is the art style Colwell employs. In many regards, it feels like a wood carving with each of the lines etched onto the paper with the exacting quality of a 15th century work. With limited backgrounds to contrast with Bosch’s rather overstuffed final design, we find a happy medium between the surreal and the real. Which makes the moments where visions of Heaven and Hell jump out all the more.
Furthermore, for all that the backgrounds remain limited, the world always feels lived in. There are small details and implications that paint a larger picture. For example, consider the body language of two of the models and how it implies a different sort of relationship than what the surface would imply. Or the finery of the clothing of the dukes who offer Bosch payment contrasts with and engages with the more simple clothes worn by the congregation of holy men who question Bosch’s decisions.
Overall, this is a pretty darn good work. Oftentimes, when talking about darn good works about subjects one has an unfamiliarity with, one finds themselves at a lack of words. I am not a student aware of the complete legacy of either Bosch or Colwell. I am certainly intrigued enough to follow through with their legacies, failures, and successes. But that is not who I am at the moment. Even still, I understand the conflict within the heart to not be free from patrons desires and wishing to follow your own bird.
Speaking as a critic, I find myself often writing about works that I don’t have a complete interest in solely for the purposes of a paycheck. As a result, I often find myself creating reviews and articles of lesser quality. Working for the Beat, I do not get paid and was interested in the life of Bosch, albeit from an outsider’s perspective. I wanted to learn more. We are given a selection of works to choose from and apply our craft to, and I chose this one.
And, here and now, I find myself disappointed that I couldn’t find anything more to say about this pretty darn good work than what I have, such that I am filling space with a rather self-important bit about the nature of criticism, with the only move against it being some pithy metacommentary about doing it. Artists have a tendency to approach their work like that. And criticism is nothing else if not an artform.
Indeed, that’s one of the things that I quite liked about Delights: it doesn’t hold Bosch as someone above everyone else. He’s just a man, making his art with the same conflictions and concerns that many an artist might find themselves dealing with. He is not the special man whose art will save the world. His visions do not depict a future upon which Utopia can be built. He’s not even a problematic man whose problematic tendencies result in great work. Indeed, it’s his piousness above all else that fuels his artistic engines.
In the end, that is what ultimately makes me recommend it more than anything else. It rejects the cliches of tormented artists in favor of something more honest. The torment, dear reader, is not in our visions, but in ourselves. When engaging with his visions, while fearful, the crux of Bosch’s torment is in rejecting them, not them hurting him or threatening to make him do harm to others. Bosch remains a good man willing to fight for his art. And, yes, he makes compromises for the art. Because, at the end of the day, it is a working man’s field. It’s a job just like any other. And one really should be allowed the trust to know what you were hired to do.
And, in the end, it is the story of a man who knows he is of the past. An age is coming that will forever change how the world works. We are, all of us, men and women and enbys of the transitions of time. Ages are things made in retrospect to separate the times. We cannot know who and what are impact will be until all is said and done. The future is forever in flux. And we are damned and saved by the designs we can never truly see.
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