CHRZ
Stephan J. H. Van Dinther

 
If I had a bigger scanner, I'd show you the whole damn thing.

CHRZ may be one of the most important publications of 2005. Stephan J. H. Van Dinther (half of the Dutch comics-virtuoso duo, Eiland) has finally had his exciting serialized story collected in one attractive volume by Dutch art-house publisher Bries. This alone is cause for celebration, as American fans (and fans-to-be) no longer have to search through the back alleys of even the best comics stores, in search of the rare issue of Eiland, and those afraid of comics printed on unweildy paper sizes and squeezed into cardboard envelopes, can now buy it anywhere (even the local Barnes & Noble).

What is CHRZ? Damned if I know. I have no idea what the letters CHRZ mean, although it could be Dutch for Christ. There is definitely a Christ/Moses/Hellenistic myth analogue. Or Christ as in, "Jesus Christ, this shit is beautiful." Really, any sane review will just end there. Trying to explain this book could drive a person mad. We'll see where I am at the end...

The physical object is an 8x10 softcover, printed on heavy, glossy paper with a wrap-around cardstock cover that extends a full 30" when the cover flaps are unfolded. What is revealed is a giant stylized fly, in whose left eye are reflected some of the key components of the story inside. van Dinther shows us one of his clever hands immediately here as each component (a box of popcorn, a pair of binoculars, five characters, a knife and a bullet) is separated horizontally across the compound facets of the lens. While each row discriminates between objects in space, each column deliniates a shared moment in time. It's to this exploration of space, time and the language of comics themselves that van Dinther engages himself fully, almost obsessively.

Following the flight of a fly, each moment another facet.

Throughout this strange tale of gangsters aiding and abetting (and possibly a betting) the deadly resolution to a love triangle, van Dinther can be seen firing high-payload rockets into the very idea of perception. Using his fly eye perspective and a revisitation of the aesthetics of Eadweard Muybridge, van Dinther pulls every action of a single moment, every action of a single space and finally every action contained within several spaces and a single moment apart to reveal small, significant details that would be lost from even the most attentive eye.

This is a story about observation and the effects of the observer on the observed. It is about the way we try to shape experiments that aren't yeilding the results we want. It is about the way nature will find ways to confound those who try to tamper with her. It's about an active hand of god, of unalterable fate, about the way the stories we tell ourselves have a way of coming true.

At full size, you'd see the well-delineated actions of every knight and archer in that huge pileup.

It's also a beautiful book. van Dinther combines highly stylized drawings and the high-contrast appeal of black-and-white comics with a gorgeous watercolor palette that loses none of its texture on the page. He tells long stories in tiny spaces and is confident in throwing the viewer across long expanses between panels in order to reveal a new way of approaching the same scene. Forget such nonsense like the 180º rule. van Dinther's eye visualizes his space as though a transparent sphere, employing a full array of lenses.

I can't tell you exactly what happens in this story. I'm not entirely sure I comprehend the significance of everything that happens. Surely the parallels between the comic within the comic and the ending of CHRZ are important. Surely there is significance in the bird with its strange feathers. I don't really have a burning need to know the meaning of every detail (including the ending), but I feel secure knowing that the author knows what it all means. There's too much intentionality to think otherwise.

Read horizontally, evey action in a single moment in a single space. Vertically, every fraction of a moment from different perspectives, all culminating in a holistic view fthrough the broken lens of a pair of binoculars.

It's a beautiful book. It's an exciting experiment. It contains meanings and morals beneath its surface. It has an ambiguous ending, but a book like this should be read for all the details, all the components that lead to that ending. This is where the story lies, in the small moments that fly by too fast to notice whether we're paying attention or not. van Dinther tells us as much on his cover.

—Justin J. Fox