John Kascht

Yes, that's that Bill Watterson, of Calvin & Hobbes fame. This is not Calvin & Hobbes, but it is, perhaps, similar, in that it's something very simple-looking that feels like it has a lot more depth behind it.

I suppose one can only describe it as a picture book for adults. (And I do think it's aimed at adults. It's a bit dark for kids, although maybe how appropriate that is depends on the kid.) The black-and-white illustrations are weirdly compelling, dark and atmospheric in a way that may show more leave you feeling interestingly off-balance.

The story is just a few short lines per page and has the feel of a slightly abstract fairy tale. Which may not seem like much, but the ending kind of made the hairs on my neck stand up. It ultimately feels very much like an allegory, but the personal exercise of considering what exactly it's an allegory for is, I think, the most interesting part of reading it. So I won't share any of my thoughts on the matter, but only say that I could see at least of couple of different ways of reading it, including a message I like and approve of and one I don't. I'm going with the former, naturally.

In any case, it is definitely a much bigger experience than it looks like you're likely to get out of this small, slim square of a book. show less

This was a weird little book… I knew better than to expect the frivolity of Watterson’s magnum opus Calvin and Hobbes, but what exactly this was I’m still not too sure. In some ways it mimics the style of a medieval Passion Play, using roughly shaped puppets to illustrate a simple allegorical tale of humanity’s fear, discovery, and then fall, but that is almost too easy an interpretation. The visual palette is starkly monochromatic, heightening the tension as humanity explores the show more Mysteries (an undisclosed group of beings or ideas) and embarks on a primal quest to unravel what exactly they are. While I quite enjoyed this thematic premise and was intrigued by the dramatic style the story set off in, as humanity became more modernized I also became less enthralled with the narrative. Once humanity knows everything, it’s only a matter of time before they lose all sense of whimsy and hope of novelty, so the story became far less enjoyable as I could clearly see they were only headed for an unhappy ending. At least by the finale the universe is left unblemished, with little but a dust-mote memory of the folly of humanity, and we can be left to wonder at what comes next. After all, the next great Mystery could be right around the edge of the galaxy, if we’d only bother to wonder. show less

It carries the name of the creator of Calvin & Hobbes, which triggered many people (including me), but it’s a masterpiece in its own right.

Some dark forests are more dangerous than other forests. Never underestimate any dark forest.

This is a thoughtful tale about unreasonable fear morphing into unreasonable hubris, and about the big scheme ultimately not impressed by human presence. Far from that.
It does give out a clear warning in advance, true, but without ever feeling the need to show more repeat that warning one single time again.

In the end, everything goes on, without those people, who never change, and were never able to learn what the real danger is. Or who. show less

Nothing whatsoever of Calvin & Hobbes discernible here, inviting the reader to give free reign to their native imagination and curiosity. Mine led me to suggestive interpretations involving the mutual ignorance of the sacred within scientific and religious institutions.

The title page states that Watterson wrote the text, and worked with John Kascht on the visuals. With curiosity piqued as to whether the two storyboarded and then Kascht produced the images, or if Kascht created the images as show more inspired by the text, more-or-less on his own, I looked online. The video essay "Collaborating on The Mysteries" begins answering those questions. Turns out they were sparring partners, "trying to make pictures that didn't show things, for a story that didn't say things." Watterson prized ambiguity and mood, Kascht enthused over craftsmanly details of natural images and lifelike appearances. "Now I understand why bands break up in the recording studio." And yet: "The truly remarkable thing is that it never got personal." show less