The determination of her characters is clear, and her tendency toward drawing substantial bodies has remained. They're back to doing their chores, grouchily, but at least they have someone to tuck them in at night. Smitten, they try what's worked before and are promptly smote by a rolling pin. Then they stumble upon a grouchy, hairy, extremely capable woman, who manages to mind her three children as she completes the work of the household. They kidnap a series of women-a ballerina who is "too skinny," a tearful painter who is "too leaky," a Wagnerian opera singer who is "too loud"-then chuck them in the garbage. It's the story of three rotten, hairy little men, who are tired of doing their chores, so they set out to find a wife. It dates from 2004, when she was 21, and it holds up. Even earlier than that is "The 3 Bad Ones," a truly mini mini-comic, measuring about 1 by 1.5 inches. " Welp, those people are wrong, and yet it's also still quite a good comic. She told me recently, when I mentioned that I had dug back through some boxes to find old mini-comics I bought from her table at Fluke (Athens' comics and zine convention), "To some people, nothing I do will ever be as good as. If anything, it's the opposite: thoroughly grounded in a finely observed reality. That's not to say that everything she pictures is magical.
Reading her books is like you've undergone a dopamine fast or sensory deprivation and then come back out into the big, bright world like Dorothy stepping out of her Oz-transported house into Technicolor and music. What is it like to be as sensitive to the world around you as Eleanor Davis is? It must be overwhelming, exhausting, anxiety-producing. Features Taking Inventory: The Comics Of Eleanor Davis
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