These seemingly disparate narratives serve to reinforce the time-tested adage that lies at the heart of Chunky Rice: if you love something, you must be willing to set it free.

Good-Bye, Chunky Rice (Pantheon Books; 128 pgs BW; $12.95)

Thompson’s autobiographical Blankets caused a great sensation in the comics world when it was published by Top Shelf in 2003, but many industry pundits were already familiar with Thompson’s work from his 1999 graphic novel debut, Good-Bye, Chunky Rice, now available in a new softcover edition from Pantheon Books.

Chunky Rice is a small, anthropomorphic turtle who is depicted as being both ageless and sexless. In spite of these rather obvious handicaps, he is nonetheless in love with a glassy-eyed girl mouse named Dandel. They frolic on beaches and build sandcastles together, but it is clear from their manner that something is distracting them. "You’re like a little flower that’s outgrown its pot," Dandel says, "and needs to be transplanted in order to keep growing." By way of a response, Chunky waits until Dandel is asleep and tells her that his home is on his back, and he sets off by sea for the sunny Kahootney Islands.

Chunky’s neighbor, a slow-witted but gentle giant called Solomon, walks with his small friend to the harbor, where his brother, a gruff sea captain named Chuck, inspects Chunky’s weighty cargo. With a ruthlessness that exceeds every courtesy imaginable, the captain jettisons (or pilfers) nearly all of poor Chunky’s belongings before welcoming him aboard his modest ship and putting him to work. All Chunky could think about before leaving home was escaping; now all he can think about are the people and places he left behind.

The story then proceeds to jump between Chunky’s seafaring adventures and life without him ashore. Dandel is heartbroken, and she copes with the loss of her friend by writing him endlessly, tucking her missives into glass bottles and hurtling them into the sea in the vain hope that they will somehow find their destination. They are all inscribed with three identical words: "I miss you." Solomon, meanwhile, has begun caring for a friendly bird named Merle whose injured wings prevent him from being able to fly. These seemingly disparate narratives, neither of which is satisfactorily resolved per se, both serve to reinforce the time-tested adage that lies at the heart of Chunky Rice: if you love something, you must be willing to set it free.

In the end, each of Chunky Rice’s impressively realized characters emerges as a sympathetic figure. Chuck, in particular, delivers a poignant line at the end of a gorgeously illustrated sequence that never fails to raise a lump in my throat. It succinctly encapsulates his love of the sea even as it reminds young Chunky of the very reason for his own restlessness.

Chunky Rice is a feast for the eyes. Thompson’s rich brushwork and off-kilter designs are charming against all odds, and his manic calligraphy remains readable throughout in spite of its many extraordinary flourishes and curlicues. While this work is about as far from the lush, impeccably designed Blankets as comics get, it is no less accomplished.

In sum, Craig Thompson’s unique first effort is a bona fide thematic masterpiece and an emotional watershed for independent comics. One of the medium’s greatest and most unforgettable achievements in recent decades, Good-Bye, Chunky Rice is pure poetry for anybody who has ever been stricken with wanderlust.