While driving around the Balkans on my own filming writers for my unsuccessful web series? No. While stuck in my engulfing Autumn/Winter season of near-homelessness? No. Did I read Preacher while living in Barcelona? No. It is something I think of as more recent, but it makes sense that it was so long ago. It has been two and a half years since I last read a volume of Proust, and two and a half years since I last read this comic. It was only when looking back on my most recent blog post about the series in lieu of a less-involved refresher of the plot, that I realised how long it had been since I last diced with the eponymous Jesse Custer and his varied buddies. It has become somewhat of a tradition of mine to, upon finishing a volume of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, cleanse my palate with a volume of the late 1990s comic book, Preacher.
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