“My Friend Dahmer” by Derf Backderf

What a strange thing to go from a medieval fantasy to this dark and disturbing tale.  First and foremost, this is an excellent book.  That being said, it is not an easy graphic novel to read.  Longer and more in-depth than many graphic novels, the author explains that this is a second attempt to capture his unusual connection to Jeffrey Dahmer and that this time, he did extensive research before diving in.  The efforts show and make this an obvious choice for the many awards now being placed on it, including the “Alex” Award from ALA.  Many things about the novel struck me, in no particular order:

• The title is a tad misleading, but “My Acquaintance Dahmer” would not have had the same ring to it.  Using the term friend implies that this is someone one cares about.  There is no indication that Backderf (real name John) was a friend to Dahmer, or that Dahmer was really able to make the connection you would call friendship.  Rather, Dahmer was an oddball who was taken in by a group of teen boys kind of like a pet.  The boys alternately tolerated and were amused by Dahmer’s antics but they didn’t invite him to parties or social activities, just sort of used Jeffrey as a running gag.  Nonetheless, Dahmer said this period in his life was the closest he ever got to being happy.
• Backderf is torn, emotionally, about this relationship.  In an extended intro and in the detailed notes afterwards (worth the read) he tries to articulate this complexity of feelings.  He doesn’t succeed, in my humble opinion, but then how can you?  There is pity, anger, grief, horror, unspoken-yet-clear guilt … but then this is an attempt to understand that which most of us will never be able to fully comprehend.  John feels badly for Jeffrey, who was obviously struggling, anger at the many adults who clearly turned a blind eye, and tries to draw a hard line as to when the sympathy and blame to others ends.  The reality is that Jeffrey Dahmer, at 15, was most likely already battling inherited mental health issues, including depression, alcoholism and sociopathic tendencies.  Trying to determine, at this point, what could have made a difference is an exercise with no happy solutions.  Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20, but we don’t live our life in re-wind.  Backderf does not pull his punches when showing the callousness of his youth, and that of his comrades-in-arms, and I felt like I went with him on this journey; experiencing the tale more on a visceral than intellectual level.  While very linear, this isn’t so much a story as a kind of purging of conflicting feelings.  It reads like a tremendously sad elegy.
• Backderf and his friends ridiculed many, and he apologizes to one man who had cerebral palsy in the notes section of the book.  He doesn’t apologize, however, to a character he repeatedly refers to as a “loser” and the “class psycho,” even going as far as initially thinking that it is this person, not Dahmer, who committed the horrific crimes once they are discovered.  For an adult looking back, it is interesting to feel that he still bears a good bit of animosity to the “Figg” character.  I don’t know what to make of that.  Backderf and friends were not at the top of the high school social ladder, however, and perhaps he is exhibiting that basic human need to find someone below himself to raise himself up.
• Since I know the history of this true story, and most of my students do not, I wonder how much creepiness I brought to the reading.  It was literally hard to turn the page at points.  I wonder how my students would react to the book knowing little or nothing about Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes.
• Reading this book so shortly after yet another shocking mass shooting is strange.  How do Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes, which were beyond awful yet private, stack up to the killings we see today, which are so incredibly public?  Both kinds of acts shake me to the core, but does one outweigh the other?  (I don’t suspect this is a question I can answer).

Getting back to the review – Backderf’s choices in “framing” the story graphically are top-notch.  In black and white pen drawings, he took time to have wordless panels.  Pages with Jeffrey Dahmer walking down a road, focusing on his own feet, or staring out a bus window set a strong tone.  Even the arch of a hill or the busy-ness (or lack there-of) of the background helps set the stage.  As Jeffrey’s descent into oblivion is chronicled, the backgrounds of the panels become pitch black.  Backderf manages to create a kind of glassy, disconnected stare so reminiscent of men who commit these crimes, but also limits the number of times we see Dahmer’s eyes … the artist increasingly places glare on Dahmer’s glasses to block out the eyes entirely.  This is eerily reminiscent of a photo included in the book – one of a joke yearbook shot where Jeffrey Dahmer stands in the back, head slightly tilted, a white bulb flash on the lens of his glasses.  Backderf saves the worst of  Dahmer’s crimes from the reader, using intimation to touch on the nastier parts.  There is little blood, just a sense of omniscient threat as the images zoom in, a single drop of “something” coming out of a car trunk, and then a quick fade-out.  The artwork (which Backderf says is the best he has ever done) creates blocky, pudgy profiles that work well for re-creating 1970s era teens, but falls a tad short on female characters, who all seem a bit masculine.  It is a minor complaint in an otherwise excellently executed tale.  I particularly liked the use of bold text in word bubbles to articulate subtleties, like sarcasm, and the tremendous accuracy Backderf took in recreating the 1970s and a highway sign for Washington, DC.  I always get cranky when they get details about “my city” wrong.

On my own, I would not seek out a book on a serial killer but I did feel compelled to read this before putting it on the shelf.  For me, it was best to take “breaks” while reading it.  In the end, I appreciate its brilliance, but am very glad to move on.  Let this review be your warning label.