Even though this book is loaded with Crumb art, it is very obvious that R. Crumb was arm-twisted into doing this book, and he even admits this several times throughout it. Forgive me but, this book was flat-out awful. It's all about Harvey Pekar - who is every bit as self-obsessed as Crumb but with none of his friend's redeeming neurotic quirky charm. His writing is depressing and oppressive without substantive relief of any kind. Even Crumb's drawings can't save it. For the obsessive collector only, I would not recommend it to the average R. Crumb fan.