Anhedonia is a slim volume, aesthetically more of a zine than a book, complemented by a hand-screened, cardboard cover and tucked in a twill bag sewn by Jordan's mother. The illustrations and short comic that make up Anhedonia are rife with uneasiness, the threat of violence and the weariness one feels from a lifetime of partying. Jordan's style relies on bold, dark lines and inky black backgrounds which starkly highlight his finely-detailed and mildly repulsive characters. Each one seems familiar, like that stoner cousin who got you high for the first time, or the older skateboarder who hangs around the local high school, hitting on girls. There's a danger in their asymmetrical eyes nestled in crows feet, slack jaws, and overall dazedness. As if they'd shown up to your place, a friend of a friend, and spent the night pounding Beast Ice, fiddling with their butterfly knife and creeping everyone out.
While Jordan shows much promise, the show flyers and one-off illustrations feel like filler when coupled with one brief comic, though they would nicely complement a heftier volume. Nonetheless, with the hand-crafted accents and a limited run of two-hundred copies, Anhedonia is excitingly ephemeral and its brevity leaves one impatient for more.