Ghost World

Yeah, I read the book. No, I have no idea what to think about it. What does this mean? What is Daniel Clowes attempting to get at here? Going through everyone else’s posts (which I enjoyed, by the way) I came across this section of Athena’s post:

“Ghost World” is about growing up, and growing up is painful. So how else should one portray it? Enid and Rebecca hate most everything and everyone—but they’re intelligent and interesting, and they live in a place that has not offered them much in the way of culture. How else should they react? What I like about “Ghost World” is that it’s real.

Yeah, that’s how I feel too! Thinking about it, I realized that regardless of whether we like or dislike the book or the characters, they are so very real. The book as a whole is terribly painful, especially as we watch the relationship between Enid and Rebecca completely dissolve before their eyes and ours. The reality comes  from the stark, urban setting as well as the conversation between the two teenage girls. We constantly come across the same graffiti, over and over again, as new scrawlings of the title pop up on brick walls, garage doors, and windows. As Rebecca says: “God, how long has that graffiti been there?” (63) Reality also comes through for us at the end: Enid Coleslaw will not go to college. Rebecca will not go with her, but neither will the two of them continue their friendship just as it always was. Through the Josh Episode (as I’m sure they would call it, with some extra elective describing his gayness or dork-ness or whatever) and their own confusion about the future, their friendship fractured irreparably.

The moments of real growth for Enid occur after the Josh Episode and after she buys the hearse. Her father announces that he’s going on a date with Carol, “THE Carol?,” one of his ex-wives. Enid, sitting in front of him, looks him straight in the eye and says in typical Enid-fashion: “What the fuck are you DOING?“ (69) Yes, she’s mouthy and sarcastic and clearly unafraid of authority, but this feels different. She seems to be looking out for her dad’s well-being, something very grown-up and different than her usual. Then, in the hearse on the way back from their practice trip to Swarthmore, Enid tells Becky that her secret plan was to leave town forever and not tell anyone, just become this totally new person. Becky tells her that she doesn’t understand. Enid replies, “THat’s because you don’t utterly loathe yourself…” (75) What better indication of growing up than learning that you don’t like parts of yourself? Enid is starting to really discover herself, the parts she likes and the parts she doesn’t, a painful process that will bring more pain as it separates her from Becky even further.

For me, the best part of the book was the end. Somehow, Clowes has managed to make this part feel so much more grownup than the beginning. Perhaps it is Enid’s hair, loose and barrette-free for the first time. Perhaps it is her outfit, with no sense of the punk-rock/”to defy definition” style that she once had. (68) Whatever it is, we follow Enid through the town she grew up in. Strangely enough, when she encounters fresh “Ghost World” graffiti, she calls out to the perpetrator: “Hey! Hey! Come back here!” (79) Is she conforming to society’s laws, trying to disrupt an illegal activity? Or does she want an answer to a great childhood question? Spotting Becky in a diner window, Enid says “You’ve grown into a very beautiful woman.” (80) Then she walks onto the bus, we assume off to a new town to build a new identity, just as she always secretly planned. This very mature and grown-up final interaction between the two (ex)friends gives Enid and the reader closure, and shows us just how grown-up Enid’s really become.