By Ben Boruff

Deep below the colorful lithosphere of indie comics lies a core of melancholy, aphoristic, and often minimalistic comics that explore the more nuanced elements of loneliness, solitude, and longing. Occasionally, these comics bubble to the surface of the indie comic zeitgeist, but more often they remain hidden, churning below the consciousness of casual fans. I call this subgenre of indie comics "epigrammatic gloom," and it is oddly refreshing. Comics of the "epigrammatic gloom" genre eschew the usual dressings of intricate plot, and they favor the power of artwork over the power of dialogue. Like the beginning of Up and the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey, an "epigrammatic gloom" comic allows visuals to lift the weight of the story's emotional elements, and this tactic is almost always effective. Without the burden of dialogue, panels are able to burn with color, and background artwork—often vast and simple to enhance the protagonist's isolation—is not obstructed by overbearing bubbles and squares. Claire Connelly’s clever comics contain copious amounts of this molten melancholy, and Paper Crown is among the best of Connelly’s impressive work.