Roz Chast Commemorates Parents in Cartoons, Between Atheism and Gefilte Fish
Humanity’s oldest dream turns out to be Roz Chast’s worst nightmare. “Imagine some horrible dystopian future, some 50 years from now, where people just stop dying,” she says, sitting in her living room in quaint, rural Connecticut, surrounded by pastel-colored walls, books and colorful knickknacks. “They’re 98, they’re 102, they’re 107, they’re 112” — the…