“You Can Never Die”: Cartoonist Harry Bliss and His Dog Penny
Harry Bliss loved a dog named Penny.
The renowned cartoonist, who lives in Cornish, New Hampshire, has had 24 covers along with numerous cartoons and illustrations published in The New Yorker magazine, has collaborated with comedian Steve Martin on two best-selling books, and has illustrated two dozen children’s books. His latest work is You Can Never Die, a graphic memoir about his life and his 17 years with his canine companion, Penny.
The book is a series of meditations about the grief he experienced with his loss of Penny, which Bliss expresses freely, in depth, and in multiple reflections. These essays are heartwarming and heart-tugging. More so, they are a balm to anyone who has ever experienced a pet’s death, and may have felt constrained in expressing the profound sense of loss it brings. Bliss makes it okay to wail and gnash teeth with abandon.
She’d grab sticks longer than she was, cumbersome and nearly firewood worthy. Always held on tightly with a strong, proud strut. Once we approached my yard, she’d find a spot where the stick was to be laid down. This was never random, Penny put thought into this placement—not sure why. . . —Harry Bliss, You Can Never Die
These essays, punctuated with his drawings and cartoons, were drawn from Bliss’s daily journals, and illustrate his life’s journey (so far) with both pain and wit. Bliss delivers anecdotes about his employment at Philadelphia’s Warwick Hotel, where both the Grateful Dead and the members of the mafia were in residence. (The latter were, according to Bliss, excellent tippers.) When his waiter shift there was over, Harry would head to the Club Elan where he was paid fifty dollars to apply face paint to the cocktail staff.
“These smoking-hot men and women would come in for 15 minutes and suck on their Newports while I applied different colors to their faces with an airbrush. I have no idea if the paint was toxic or not. I’m still alive . . . Jesus, I hope they are.”
Bliss also recounts his attempts at teaching, which seemed not to go well: “Most of the students found me too opinionated, were displeased with their grade (all of them wanted A’s), and a lot of the students resented the fact that I would finish their drawings (while they were outside smoking.)”
Bliss appears to have packed a lot into his 61 years, and many of the essays are about his growing up in an artistic family, his conflicted feelings toward his parents, and how he himself made his way as an artist over several decades. The reminiscences about Penny and his subsequent grief are woven throughout.
If you love a dog, if you’ve lost a dog, if you did or did not make peace with your parents, or if you are a writer, or an artist, love cartoons, peruse The New Yorker, if you have a favorite chair where you like reading short essays, if you use Moleskine journals or keep thinking you might, and especially, if you are grieving your beloved dog still, this book is for you or for someone you know.
Harry Bliss will be reading from You Can Never Die at the Norwich Bookstore in Norwich, Vermont on May 8 at 7:00 p.m, and also at Bear Pond Bookstore in Montpelier, VT on May 7 at 7:00 pm.
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And in case you are wondering . . . Susan B. Apel shuttered a lifelong career as a law professor to continue an interest (since kindergarten) in writing. Her freelance business, The Next Word, includes literary and feature writing; her work has appeared in a variety of lit mags and other publications including Art New England, The Woven Tale Press, The Arts Fuse, and Persimmon Tree. She connects with her neighbors through Artful, her blog about arts and culture in the Upper Valley. She’s in love with the written word.