Let’s cut the polite librarian act.
So, after 15,000 hours of reading, re-reading, and arguing, let’s answer the impossible question: Step One: Defining the Unreasonable Criteria Before we name the winner, we have to kill the idea that “best” means “my favorite.” Your favorite might be Bone (valid), Saga (respect), or The Dark Knight Returns (classic). But “best” requires a brutal, objective-ish framework. fucking possible comic best
No other comic rewards slow reading like Jimmy Corrigan . You stare at a single page for five minutes. You notice the sign in the background that says “REGRET.” You see the shadow of a father who isn’t there. Ware’s craftsmanship is so obsessive it becomes pathological. And that pathology is the point. Before Jimmy Corrigan , comics had panels. After Jimmy Corrigan , comics had excavations . Ware invents a new language of time: inset panels within panels, dream sequences disguised as reality, instructions for paper toys that mirror the protagonist’s desire to build a functional family. Let’s cut the polite librarian act
Jimmy says nothing. The next panel is a close-up of his hand. Trembling. Holding a paper cup. No other comic rewards slow reading like Jimmy Corrigan
Yes. Sit down. Let me explain why Jimmy Corrigan is not only the best comic ever made but the only comic that makes the phrase make sense. Why It Wins Criterion #1 (Craftsmanship) Chris Ware doesn’t draw comics. He builds them. Every panel is a diorama of despair. The lettering is custom. The color palette is a bruise—muted reds, sickly yellows, hospital grays. The page layouts are architectural blueprints of loneliness.
For years, we’ve danced around the question with careful, academic disclaimers. “Art is subjective.” “You can’t compare Maus to Amazing Spider-Man #122 .” “It depends on what you mean by ‘best.’”
