Rhythms and Repetition in Daniel Clowes’ “Ghost World”

What I find immediately absorbing about “Ghost World” is Clowes’ pitch-perfect depiction of the rhythms of life for two bored teenagers stuck in a dead-end town.   The gleeful, witty nastiness of their conversations, the way they drift spontaneously from one pointless activity to another, the lack of any real structure in their lives, all work together to capture the precise place they inhabit at this point in their lives.  Enid and Rebecca are suspended in a twilight world that Clowes’ unearthly neon blue shading suggests.   Having escaped from highschool, they have yet to decide how they want to live the rest of their lives, so they retrace the worn tracks of their own lives again and again until they become helplessly disgusted with themselves.

Clowes frequently makes this pacing literal, showing Enid and Rebecca revisiting old environments, activities, and topics of conversation.  An example of this repetition can be found on page twenty-seven, when the two teenagers briefly visit a Zine shop called Zine-O-Phobia before wandering off down the street.  Enid at least seems quite familiar with the store:  she’s shocked to find an acquaintance working there (“fuck you! Since when do you work here?”  “Since always on Tuesday”), and quickly zeroes in on a flier advertizing the store’s Special Appearances despite John Ellis’ attempts to freak her out.  Her bored expression normalizes the scene further, suggesting that this store is another fixture in the pair’s life, just like the Hubba Hubba Diner.

As the two leave the shop and walk down the street together, their conversation keeps the repetition rolling.  “What did John Ellis say about me?” Rebecca asks Enid, continuing her already established habit of grilling Enid about every male character she talks to.  Rebecca’s conversations with her friend are usually fueled by a half-sarcastic sexuality regardless of how appropriate the object of her apparent affection seems to be.   Whether they’re talking about a fellow teenager or a mumbling creeper hanging around diners, Rebecca appears to draw some strange satisfaction from inspiring Enid’s outrage and disgust, as we witness over and over again throughout the comic (for example: Enid responds to Rebecca’s “fuck you! At least I don’t want to fuck John Ellis!” on page 11 with “Ewww! I hate John Ellis!,”  Her “aww, but he’s so cute!” about a young garage sale patron on page 15 is matched with Enid’s brusque “he’s a fruit,” Rebecca declares “he was cute…” about ‘Johnny Apeshit’ on page 25 only to backtrack with “I’m kidding…” when Enid yells “Oh PLEASE, you’re a total moron!”, while her “I want to ‘make love’ to him!” about ‘Weird Al’ on page 44 is met with Enid’s aggressive declaration “I’m going to tell him you said that!” ).

This time, however, Enid doesn’t seem up to mocking Rebecca’s interests, even though she’s made herself an easy target by asking after the creeptastic John Ellis.   Instead, she focuses on Ellis himself, saying “he loves you…it’s so pathetic…” as she walks with her head down and her hands in her pocket.  Because Clowes has put so much effort into repeating and refining the rhythm of the young women’s conversations about men, even small variations like this one stand out to the reader and signal Enid’s preoccupation with another issue.  In this case, Clowes seems to suggest that Enid may be struggling with her own feelings about both the denounced John Ellis (who she does appear to hate) and Dan Clowes himself (who she has claimed, somewhat convincingly, that she’s attracted to and may also admire).    Her feelings of confusion and dissatisfaction with the routine of her life are palpable here and manifest themselves in page 27’s final panel with “the pants.”  “Hey look! It’s the pants!” Rebecca says excitedly, pointing at an abandoned, filthy pair of jeans on the sidewalk that they’ve apparently passed by before, again, and again, and again.  “I can’t believe they’re still here!” Enid says, and her words resonant on a deeper, symbolic level.  She speaks for the both of the teenagers with her incredulity – why the hell are they still here, on this same old street, walking the same old way to the same old places, living the same old life?