On Self-Deprecation

Recently, I picked up Quimby Mouse, which collects some of Chris Ware’s early Acme Novelty Library strips. Ware is arguably the greatest living comics artist, but he is also known for being intensely self-deprecating — it’s even listed on his Wikipedia entry! (“Ware often refers to himself in the publicity for his work in self-effacing, even withering tones.”) Quimby Mouse is no different, opening with a page-long apology for how he didn’t really want to publish a collection of juvenilia but had to due to contractual obligations, and really you don’t want to read it, but if you do, thank you and also sorry for its lack of quality, really, are you sure you don’t want to read something else instead, he’s vaguely embarrassed these even exist.

I relate strongly. I’m not as aggressively self-effacing, but I can be strongly self-deprecating, especially in person. It strikes me as a particularly Midwestern trait. (Ware is originally from Omaha, but has lived near Chicago for decades. Also, some would say Omaha is Midwestern, but that’s an argument for another time.) I am sometimes self-aggrandizing, true, but it’s usually paired with a joke at my own expense. If you ask me point blank, I’ll tell you: I’m a competent writer and competent programmer, more or less, but really not particularly good at either, and lazy to boot.

Reading Quimby Mouse, I began to think about what the point of the self-deprecation is. Many friends assume it’s fishing for compliments, eliciting a response of “But that’s not true! You’re great!” That’s correct only very occasionally — I’ve promised to make a little fishing rod motion when I do. But generally, compliments in response to self-deprecation make me deeply uncomfortable, as all praise does. (Another very Midwestern trait.) I’d usually much prefer not receiving compliments when I am, allegedly, “fishing”.

But what is the point, then, if not to elicit a specific response? Reading the intro to Quimby Mouse, I’m struck by how performative the self-deprecation is. Obviously Ware doesn’t really want you to stop reading — does he? It’s all a little overdone, a little theatrical. Perhaps it’s just a response to tall poppy syndrome — avoiding the scythe by ducking your head as low as it can go.

It’s not all performative, though. From personal experience, the self-deprecation always has a grain of truth, even if exaggerated. I believe Ware really believes you shouldn’t read Quimby Mouse, at least in part. I believe I am really not all that intelligent or competent, at least in part.

Is it just a symptom of depression — a tendency towards self-criticism? That’s the obvious answer — but then why make it so exaggeratedly public? Why does it seem so particularly Midwestern? And if it’s just a case of depressive realism, then why bother doing the work at all? Why does praise make me so uncomfortable, even if it’s coming from myself?

I’m still not sure.