Love Ware's great work and I'm glad he produced this exception early in his career. He lost me on page 23 of 53. Couldn't follow the story anymore and wasn't interested in the art. I would buy a lost copy in a thrift store though ; - )

We all gotta start somewhere and that choice of artistic inception for Chris Ware began in 1987 with the decidedly duochromatic: Floyd Farland. Subtitled: a Man of the Future, this influential Nebraskan sought fit to forge a tale in the not-so-distant-future that well reflected another primary work: Lucas’ (semi-influential) THX-1138. While both are, as they should be, regarded as inferior works compared to their later work: we can glean insights from the future by min(d)ing the past.

Case in point: with a decidedly experimental approach, Ware’s first foray into the avenue of sequential art definitely favored style over substance. Surprisingly enough, a minimalist take well contravened my expectations of an artist’s first that usually error on the side of too much. In either case, the artwork while suitably minimalist definitely has an appeal that remains somewhat memorable in my psyche.

Yet, no matter the successes of the visuals, the story itself is mangled, mismanaged, and doesn’t really make any sense. With the original content boiled off, the salt derived from its preceding sources becomes laid bare: Film Noir. Toss in some Neo’ish elements (I got some vibes from ChinaTown) and the product is something along the lines of Blade Runner sans the tech which is replaced with an unabashedly anti-capitalist (and perhaps anti-statist) message. Triangulating our protagonist, the eponymous Floyd Farland, finds himself yanked into a nonsensical conspiracy between the ruling corporatist class and the long-haired/hippie-inspired rebels. Unfeeling with his doe-eyed idealism, our fluoride addled main character is less of an actor and is more acted upon than anything.

Strangely, almost reaching forward toward the future for material to appropriate, the reality warping revelations of the gnostic and the not-so-gnostic variety: recalling The Matrix and Inception respectively, is implemented here to a boofering effect. This thematic flatulence amounts to not much more than a burst of gas that is forgotten as quickly as the awful smell dissipates. Equally concurrent is yet another stream of themery that is muddled in the mix: Screwball comedy. Tinted and toned with a range of comedy that well reflects the slapstick and the nonsensical. Combining cheap laughs on one page and depictions of totalitarian imprisonment on the other, Chris Ware’s first work is wonky at best.

Even when there is some charm, the overall product is lacking in most all departments. Sure, we can give a little since this was his first work but, whether or not this descended from the (now venerable) Chris Ware, Floyd Farland might be a Man of the Future, but this work belongs to a man of the past. Saved only by some idiosyncratic artwork, stars is the best I can give for this one.

I'd give it five stars, but the story is just too painful. Not the actual story itself, but the story of how I bought a copy of this when I was 17, read it, loved it, put it in plastic and took care of it, and somewhere along the way as I stopped collecting comics, lost it. And now it's worth a lot of dough. Fuck.

A dark comedy of errors, in a dystopian universe.
I really enjoyed this one, although it really got confusing by the end: worth a check if you want to see a play onto some of the classic dystopian scenarios.

U know I'm an urban planner so when we first started Project Class in freshman, all we do is learning basic design n principles. So abstraction was one of the hardest (and to my opinion the most subjective, n enjoyable) key.
Why the fuck I'm talking about this?

This comic was so difficult to read. Art is all about abstraction -in noir style, just darkest and brightest parts-. In some of the illustrations I couldn't figure out exactly if it's a figure, or a face, or a scene... I can say I understand what's going on but it would be a lie.

Same story of totalitarian shits versus anti-capitalist guerillas I listen every time when I sit down with people who think of themselves as savior of nation and consider what they talk about is not a dystopic bullshit (like in this story) but will be in the future.

i could not wait to finish this book. i usually enjoy reading dystopia but I've learned, not always. case in point: this bore of a book (I'm sorry, chris). i wanted to give up halfway into this but its such a short book i just pushed myself to finish it. the art is bleh too. monochromatic, minimalist, but not artsy. i am happy that its over and i can forever forget about this book.

Like everyone else who is into contemporary artists, I think Chris Ware is the pinnacle of the sequential form. I've heard numerous urban legends that his first published work, Floyd Farland, was being bought on eBay by Chris himself to limit the number of copies of circulation. I don't know if that's true, but it should be.

I hate to say this, but Floyd Farland is beyond indifference. It's not that it's bad exactly. It's just that it's bizarro compared to what made Chris Ware famous. Way bizzaro. I mean, it has an anti-establishment sentiment similar to a futuristic homebody character that he draws now, but Jesus. Floyd Farland was published in 1987 and it shows. The noir style seems trapped in a period when Max Headroom was counter-culture.

After reading the first ten pages my first thought was to find Chris Ware's mailing address and send my copy to him because I agree that he really should destroy these. But then I read a little more to see where the story was going. And by the end I knew I was going to keep my copy, because this thing is going to pay for my kid's college education.

If you read this, Chris, I truly am sorry, but I don't think you could argue.