8. “When the monsters come jello them”: Fatherhood, Vulnerability, and the Magic of the Mundane in James Kochalka’s American Elf

In recognition of his contribution to local culture, James Kochalka became cartoonist laureate of Vermont in 2011, a position he held for three years.

In the preface to Volume II, Kochalka mentions that he took a break from the diary in 2000, from March 9 to May 3, a decision that negatively affected his mental health.

For instance, in a Booklist review of the first published volume of American Elf, collecting Kochalka’s diary comics from October 26, 1998 to December 31, 2003, Ray Olson praises it for its sincerity, charm, and quirky aesthetic choices: “It’s as if sweet gross-out filmmaker John Waters had reconstituted Schulz’s classic with and for grown-ups: vulgar but loveable” (2004). In a later review (of American Elf, Book 4: The Collected Sketchbook Diaries of James Kochalka, January 1, 2008 to December 31, 2011), Olson also provides a positive reading of the paternal figure as it emerges from Kochalka’s diary, despite the narrator’s many doubts about his performance as a father: “Though like all parents he worries about being good enough, he must know that he presents himself as a kind of father-we-all-wish-we’d-had—even when we did!” (2017). The real-time online reception of Kochalka’s work is sometimes recorded in the diary, as well as the response from the public to his many art-related activities, such as participation in national and international comics conventions, painting exhibitions, and teaching. However, since American Elf was initially a webcomic that is no longer available on americanelf.​com, where Kochalka used to upload it every day, it is difficult to gauge the impact it had at the time that it was published. It is thus important that Kochalka occasionally records his readers’ opinions and provides website statistics that indicate how well-read his work was: “I have 2000 unique readers a day and 22,000 unique readers a month…and about 768,000 page views” (October 1, 2011).

While it is not the purpose of this chapter to analyze the full implications of the transition of Kochalka’s diary from online to print (even though I do refer to it throughout the chapter), I would argue his decision to print online content is not only a nod to the print tradition of comics, which is still dominant, but also an important part of the consolidation of physical socialization enabled by authors’ participation—with print copies of their books—at comics conventions.

Isaac Cates also notes that Kochalka’s accumulation of everyday snapshots produces a “composite vista” that relies on the “inference and imaginative construction” of the reader and with a “comprehensive completeness that the structures of the memoir could barely hope to attain” (2011, 223).

For instance, in the March 14, 2005, entry, he explains the relative calm of his latest recordings through a decision to temporarily leave out his various outbursts: “I have not drawn any of my meltdowns, freakouts, or tantrums in a while. I just don’t feel like drawing them. Usually some other little thing from the day strikes me as being more important.” This is both a comment on his creative process, emphasizing once again the inherently fragmentary nature of the memory work he produces and an honest observation about the de facto occurrence of such situations.

He also provides occasional titles for his strips, which become permanent a few years into the production of the diary.

In the December 13, 2012 entry, James contemplates his own work from outside the frame of a panel that contains it, an “alternate reality,” open sketchbooks upon sketchbooks on a desk, with the baffled air of naïve surprise that comes to be a regular pose of his cartoon alter ego. His conclusion, that even his most inconsequential moment “shines like an angel,” as he depicts himself wearing mirrored sunglasses meant to emphasize his unearned glamor, is downplayed by the explanation that he found the glasses in the woods “while playing disc golf.”

Even in those rare situations where he is too exhausted to draw, he still leaves a mark on the page (sometimes only a scribble), as a sign of presence and confirmation of consistency.

“Magic Boy” shares some autobiographical details with the later “American Elf” character, such as the fact that he is also married to an elfish woman named Amy, but also other character traits such as the tendency to worry incessantly. However, in the “Magic Boy” comics the autobiographical is a minor side story in a plot that—as in Magic Boy & the Robot Elf, for instance—includes an elf-like robot, time travel, and a robot version of the American Elf cat, Spandy.

There are two photographic inserts placed at the end of the second and the third printed volumes of American Elf. Titled “Kochalka Family Photos 2004–2005” and “Kochalka Family Photos 2006–2007,” they contain 12 color photographs each, placed symmetrically on two separate pages and surrounded by panel borders. These wordless photo comics signal back to some of the drawings from the graphic narrative, with occasional overlaps. The photographs confirm basic factual elements from the narrative of Kochalka’s diary (such as, for instance, the neighbor’s car being on fire or Eli’s baby eczema), but they also evidently contradict the elf conceit and project an overall happier and more light-hearted image of James Kochalka’s family. This is, of course, due to the fact that there is much less narrative substance in this photographic record, which is predicated by its own conventions; however, it plays an important part in drawing attention to the limitations of both family photography and autobiographical comics, both tethered to reality but separated from it at different distances and angles.

Throughout this chapter, I use “James” to refer to the autobiographical persona constructed in the diary, and “(James) Kochalka” to refer to the author of the book.

Various artistic practices, including mask-making, have been used in therapy to help create distance between patients and their traumas and to facilitate the expression of emotions (Trepal-Wollenzier and Wester 2002, 125).

Depression and anger are common effects of sexual abuse, as a recent autobiographical story by writer Junot Díaz also shows. Titled “The Silence: The Legacy of Childhood Trauma,” Díaz’s narrative of the aftermath of sexual abuse at the age of eight has a striking number of similarities to what Kochalka reveals about his own trauma: he only belatedly receives professional help through therapy (in American Elf, we see James rejecting Amy’s suggestion that he should seek help), suffers from depression and bouts of anger, and is able to interact more easily with the world by hiding his painful past behind a mask. While Díaz also pinpoints the negative consequences of the mask that prevents him from being able to meaningfully interact with people and form lengthy attachments, Kochalka does not, in fact, disassociate himself from his elf persona, even after his confession, which itself triggers a longer period of depression. This is possibly because, while Díaz speaks about his healing, Kochalka represents a process whose resolution may be lying outside the scope of American Elf.

In a chapter on the intersection of cuteness and the grotesque in comedies like Ted and Wilfred, Anthony P. McIntyre demonstrates that cuteness has the “ability to attenuate criticism” (2017, 290), which can mean that, in the case of his chosen primary sources, this aesthetic mode can work to facilitate misogyny. In similar vein, in American Elf cuteness works to facilitate forgiveness for a number of the title character’s misdeeds.

For a more in-depth discussion of this topic with reference to James Kochalka and Jeffrey Brown’s work, see Johnston (2013).

There are many other examples where James is not taken seriously because of preconceived notions about creating work on the computer from home, which some do not regard as legitimate labor. For instance, when his computer breaks down, a friend considers James’s grief frivolous, but Amy explains that their livelihood depends upon it, as James’s exhausted face confirms the seriousness of her remarks: “She doesn’t realize the computer is how you make a living—that’s how you’ll pay for the house…the baby…” (July 21, 2003).

Fatherly duties also change over time and produce fresh revelations and character developments, as well as new readings of past conduct: while, for instance, Amy is initially responsible for waking up throughout the night to breastfeed Oliver, when they wean him the roles are reversed and James feels retrospective compassion for his wife (December 4, 2008).

Upon being asked about the difficulty of raising two children instead of one, he answers in the negative only to immediately contradict himself: “No. I’m just really confused all the time. And I can’t think…and I’m cranky and nothing I say or do makes any sense and I don’t know what’s going on” (May 18, 2008).

The combined pressures of work and fatherhood often make James feel understandably overwhelmed, as he himself admits: “95% of my brain power and time is occupied with caring for my two boys. Plus I work like 3 full time jobs on top of that” (May 30, 2009).

In fact, even when he laments the fact that he cannot find the time to do any work, James works constantly, even though perhaps his productivity is not the same as before the children arrive. For instance, after Oliver is born, he spends part of the first day of his paternity leave painting portraits of his son using his Nintendo D5 and incorporates the results into American Elf (January 24, 2008). Work remains, throughout American Elf, both a source of stress and salvation.

As usual, sometimes James’s enthusiasm overpowers him and he slips completely out of his parental role, as when he continues to play a game after Eli goes to sleep and is later compelled to go into his child’s room to let him know, in a proud whisper, that he “got the infinity blade” (May 29, 2012).

According to a Pew Research Center statistic for 2016, only 7% of fathers (by comparison to 27% of mothers) are stay-at-home parents. A RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) statistic specifies that 82% of all victims under 18 are female. Together, these figures indicate that stay-at-home fathers who are also survivors of sexual assault are quite uncommon, but also that it is possible that the figures are higher.

This hope remains unfulfilled by the time Kochalka decides to put an end to American Elf, but this open ending mirrors the structure of the daily comics themselves and indicate to what extent the diary, as a genre, is closer than the memoir to mirroring the haphazard narrative of life itself.