Although it opens with a news article describing the suicide of Pete Duel, an American television actor who at the time was riding high on the success of a popular 1970's television western, 'Alias Smith and Jones', Mark Kalesniko's second graphic novel doesn't deal with any biographical account of the actor's last days. Rather, the question raised in the title and pondered over in the intervening chapters of an account of a traumatic childhood is a signifier for the incomprehension faced by a young boy whose only hope for a better future as an adult is shattered by the death of a favourite actor who had success and fame and seemed to have everything to live for.
That's a pretty bleak premise and outlook for a graphic novel which, featuring a younger version of character created in Kalesniko's debut graphic novel 'Alex', would appear to be at least semi-autobiographical - but the subject was very much in vogue during the black-and-white independent boom of the nineties (Malachy Coney's Holy Cross stories, also published by Fantagraphics around this time, similarly deal with childhood martyrdom and dreams of escape to a large extent) and, first published in 1997, 'Why Did Pete Duel Kill Himself?' remains one of the key works from this period.
None of the brief chapters recounting stories of childhood disappointment and disillusionment of Alex Kalienko are in themselves excessively traumatic, most of them rather commonplace little events - learning and failing to ride a bike, being beaten-up by an older kid when playing hide-and-seek, being humiliated by a teacher in front of the whole class at infant school - but dwelling on them and the rendering of them in such detail through the artwork and combining it with the outlook described in the book's title, it collectively adds up to a rather more troubling and affecting story that, at only 87 pages long, does nonetheless indeed have all the depth and quality of a graphic novel.
Kalesniko's artwork here is simply beautiful to behold, retaining the clear fluid lines and the expressiveness of his debut 'Alex', but allowing more shadow detail in the rendering that adds character to the sense of it being reminiscence that distances it from the immediacy of the older Alex. The real wonder of the book is the fluidity of the sequential art, the movement from frame to frame coming to life in an almost animated manner, dwelling on every moment of the sequence of events leading to shattered hopes, disillusionment and ignominious humiliation. Bleak perhaps, but the familiarity and realism of the little stories are likely to also evoke tenderness and sympathy for the character of little Alex and resonate with our own concerns for an adult life that may not have worked out exactly as we might have hoped.