![]() ![]() In the end, he has no choice but to submit to its mighty power. He could trim it all night, and still it would be there in the morning: lustrous as a mammoth's coat, impenetrable as a privet hedge. Anarchic and untameable, it comes from a place far beyond tidiness. Dave feels a "roaring black fire climbing up through his face", and suddenly his beard is born. Then, one day, something strange happens. He has a boring office job whose precise purpose he doesn't really understand, and spends his free time sketching his street and listening to the Bangles' Eternal Flame over and over again. Clever, funny and beautiful to look at, the last time I came across facial hair this compelling, it was attached to the chin of Roald Dahl's Mr Twit, a character whose creator would undoubtedly have loved The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil – and whose influence, unless I'm much mistaken, may be felt on its every page.ĭave, a bald fellow with just one very stubborn hair on his face, lives on the island of Here, an excessively tidy kind of a place where beards (or any kind of facial hair) are nonexistent. ![]() ![]() And here's hoping that beard‑lovers (or, more likely, beard-phobics) everywhere feel the same, for Stephen Collins, who won the Observer/Cape/Comica Graphic short story prize in 2010, deserves his first book to be a huge hit. W ho could resist a book with the title The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil? Not me. ![]()
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