Andrea Frankel says:

I have not purchased this book, but have read the first chapter online. As a Jew, I am personally affronted by picturing God as an old man with the flowing beard and robes. God is noncorporeal and God’s name ineffable, and the Ten Commandments warns us against any kind of god-imagery, which can lead to idolatry.

Sorry to sound like an old fuddy-duddy, since I’ve been a fan of R. Crumb’s comix since 1971, but this is one book I will not purchase.
Rating: 1 / 5

Arlene Johnson says:

I know Genesis (the Bible version) quite well, I understand it is pretty much X rated. This seemed to be pitched to young readers. NOT. No rating low enough.
Rating: 1 / 5

Robert Triptow says:

Crumb’s illustrated Genesis is quite an amazing illustration accomplishment, but I’m afraid it’s NOT quite a success. The artistry certainly is eyeball-boggling, but Crumb is so overly respectful of the source material that he doesn’t add anything to it. There’s no breath of life to it at all. My honest opinion is that it lacks in personality, just as the Bible itself does (for me). Now why is that…?

I think it’s because the book of Genesis is itself an adaptation of oral tradition and suffers from ancient storytelling conventions. A large part of it is the language, which in antiquity would have been in repetition and verse: “And the Lord said…” “And so-and-so answered…” And this… And that… And then… This narrative would work around a campfire for unlettered people, but has no spontaneity on the printed page, no matter how well illustrated. I couldn’t help thinking how much better the stories would work if Crumb had dropped most of the “ands” and many of the descriptions and just showed people talking to one another. It becomes oppressive. (I have similar issues with other ancient texts taken from oral tradition, like Beowulf and The Iliad. Always with Dawn’s rosy-colored fingers, The Iliad — where has Dawn been dipping her fingers?)

The “begats” are still a mind-number, for instance. For ancient people, I think those lists of names must have had resonance, they were all the names of leaders who became patriarchs of various tribes that surrounded them; and the “begats” establish heirarchy. Perhaps in the days before mass media and popular entertainment, folks had more interest in tracking genealogies and histories of this sort. It is amazing how much work Crumb puts into livening up the proceedings, with very human portraits of all the begotten individuals, but it’s still quite anonymous to the modern reader, and he leaves intact all the tedious campfire cadences and recitations. Of course, the reader has to keep in mind that the “begats” and half the stories of biblical patriarchs swindling for birthrights or paying (in infinite detail) for fields or caves or wells are all ancient arguments to establish the legitimacy of the Israeli claim to the lands they took from the Canaanites. Still, it becomes somewhat of a blur.

This is true, also, in my opinion, of the big-name patriarchs and matriarchs of the stories. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob’s personalities are pretty much interchangeable, as are Sarah, Rebeckah, Rachel — tough authority figures playing the same power games with each other. I didn’t really get a feel for any personality outside of maybe God, Adam, Eve, Cain, Abel, and then Joseph at the very end. The rest was all a litany of “he (Abraham or Isaac of Noah or Jacob) sojourned here, found that wife, passed her off as his sister, knocked up her handmaid, committed some pretty big moral lapses and was still the chosen of God.” These characters all look quite a lot alike, too — especially the females. Crumb just doesn’t do anything much to bring it life outside of the Bible text because he doesn’t stray at all from Bible text.

So what is it, in the end? A guilt-ridden Catholic boy trying to atone for the excesses that made him famous in the first place?
Rating: 1 / 5