More than Words

Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly’s "Local", Site Specificity and Character Development

2010-04-19T18:55:00.008-04:00

Local

Writer: Brian Wood

Illustrator: Ryan Kelly

Publisher: Oni Press
Analysis: Cristina Naccarato

Local was a twelve-part limited comic book series, written by Brian Wood, illustrated by Ryan Kelly, and published by Oni Press. Each issue of Local (like Wood’s more recent series, Demo) was intended to be a stand-alone short story that took place in a different city across North America. Though each issue was mean to be self-contained, a recurring character, Megan, acts as a thread for the reader of this monthly who followed the series in sequence. In some issues, Megan is the main character, and in others, she is merely a spectator, or background figure, yet always recognizable, with her large oval eyes, freckled nose, and key around her neck. As Local went on, it became more of a coming of age story for Megan, while still maintaining it’s establishment as a stand-alone series.

Local in many ways, explores the notion of personal identity, and the idea of how identity is often shaped more by where you are, rather than by who you are. Location in terms of identity is crucial, and for Megan, in every city she travels to, she can reinterpret herself recreate her image as much as she wants. For example, in issue #5, “The Last Lonely Days at the Oxford Theatre,” located in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Megan recreates personal and physical identity throughout the entire narration. Her hair progressively gets shorter, and shorter, her personal history changes each time she encounters a new person, and she also presents herself with a different name each time. Being new to Halifax, Megan’s location allows her to do this without any repercussions, and emphasizes how location is at times indicative of how you identify with yourself.

In terms of locations, and Megan’s constant traveling, the site specificities of each issue make it “Local” to the people who are familiar with the locations, and act as a way in which Wood and Kelly could relate on a more personal level with their readers. Wood mentions in an interview with Comic Book Resources, “I picked twelve cities and towns for the stories, both for aesthetic reasons and commercial (I wanted cities that has strong indie comic shops, so that the book would actually be found there).” Each issue contains real places that readers can identify with, and in turn, also draw from their own personal memories of said places, which creates another element that readers can connect with in a profound way.

As above mentioned, though each issue is meant to be self-contained, and can be read this way, the progression of Megan’s identity throughout the entire series, shows a movement from a confused drifter, to someone who is more self-aware and stable. Another element most young adult readers can relate with. This progress, however, can only be seen by reading the entire series in succession.

The Merging of Real World and the World of Fantasy in Cinderella From Fabletown with Love

2010-04-19T18:25:00.004-04:00

Written by: Chris Roberson
Art by: Shawn McManus
Published by: Vertigo

When going to pick my monthly comic I had no idea what I was looking for as I had never bought a monthly comic before. Once I saw Cinderella I felt that it would be a good choice and this was only affirmed after reading Fables in class. The combination of the real world and the world of fairy tales was something that greatly interested me and this comic illustrated a perfect combination of reality and fantasy.

In the third issue (the cover is shown above), the infusion of the real world into the world of fantasy is apparent on the first page of the comic. This issue begins during the civil war and looks into Cinderella's part in the war and the side she took. The political and social issues of the civil war come to the forefront on this first page. Cinderella is a character we normally associate with her fairy tale character, the girl with the glass slipper, woodland animals as friends and who gets her prince charming in the end. The last thing that would come to mind is Cinderella's involvement in the Civil War, on the side of abolishing slavery with another fairy tale character Belle as a double agent for the south feeding them information.

In this comic the boundaries between the real and fantasy are blurred as the two realms begin to crossover into one another. Fairytale characters are injected into real world settings, situations and issues. This brings cause for the reader to ask what is real and what is not in this comic. This is exactly what the characters in the comic are trying to avoid, the merging of their fairytale world and its magic into the "mundy" world. Many of the traditional aspects of the fairytales remain like Cinderella's friends being woodland animals and Aladdin's magic carpet. One of the main parts of the original Cinderella is the glass slipper that much of the story revolves around. In this comic this connection with shoes is transformed into Cinderella owning a shoe store. The fairytale characters are merely being adapted into the read world taking something originally so distant from it readers to something that is easier for to associate with is as these familiar fairytale characters are implanted into the world in which we live.

Politics and the Women's Place in Iranian Society in Nylon Road

2010-04-19T16:17:00.005-04:00

Written & Illustrated by Parsua Bashi
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin

Parsua Bashi's Nylon Road is a graphic memoir that is overflowing with political and social undertones. Bashi describes her struggles living as a woman in Iran and her attempts to overcome the hardships that women are forced to undergo in her country. As Parsua battles her younger selves many intense political issues come into discussion. During the years in which Parsua was growing up, Iran was at war with Iraq and a revolution had begun. As a result Bashi delves into many of the political issues of the time including questioning the real reasons for war and whether or not the leaders of her country were truly following their religious beliefs or merely just using them as a facade to cover their true agenda. Bashi believes the latter. Politics and religion should be separate entities and not taken advantage of to pursue personal ambitions.

One of the main political issues that comes across in this graphic novel is the position of women in Iranian society. As she battles with her past, Parsua truly discovers the oppression of women in her country and the pains she had to go through due to the treatment of women at the time. At one point Parsua is whipped repeatedly my law officials because she was out walking with a classmate to get art supplies and a so-called religious extremist witnessed what we would think to be entirely typical and would not notice, he finds utterly appalling. Clearly, Bashi is trying to show her readers the current situation in her country and that things must change in order for Iran to prosper.

These political and social undertones also open up the potential use of a graphic novel like Nylon Road as an educational tool in a classroom setting. This novel is one that could be easily incorporated into a Women's Studies or Political Science class at a post-secondary level. It provides a personal account of the political issues and gender inequalities that can be found in Iran. As Bashi battles her younger selves that appear throughout the novel she shows that through self-examination we can all learn something. The status of women in Iran is most definitely questioned in this novel and hope for change is the main political overtone.

Humour and Reflexivity

2010-04-19T14:20:00.003-04:00

Title: "Showing 'Helder'", from The Little Man: Short Stories 1980-1995 (68-101)

Writer and Artist: Chester Brown

Publisher: Drawn and Quarterly

I chose to examine a collection of Chester Brown's short comics because I found it to be rich ground for Jones' theory of reflexivity. The brief comic "Showing 'Helder'" is a commentary on "Helder", a story that precedes it in the anthology. Both stories feature a character called Seth, but in "Helder" Brown narrates a relatively realistic plot, while in "Showing 'Helder'" he breaks the narrative illusion and draws attention to the construction of the medium. Brown achieves this effect to make both stories retrospectively comic, and so nullify the negative emotional impact of "Helder".

On page 76, Chester draws himself in a scene that the reader recognizes from the previous story. This is what Jones calls "authorial awareness", or the intrusion of the author onto the story. Chester Brown achieves it in a similar technique to McCloud--by drawing a comic counterpart to himself. This intrusion draws attention to the construction of the comic and makes the reader critically distant from the fiction he or she is reading. The effect is humorous and playful: the reader is distanced from the dramatic action of the story as it is happening, and is encouraged instead to play with the conventions of comic writing. A humorous effect is appropriate to this particular story because it is aimed at lightening the mood after a dramatic and realistic narrative. "Helder" was a relatively dark story as well, because it involved scenes of domestic abuse and violence. "Showing 'Helder'" does exactly what the title implies--it "shows" the construction of the previous story to mollify its negative emotional effect.

"Showing 'Helder'" is obviously an instance of intertextuality as well, adding another level of reflexivity to the narrative. Even though it references an author's own story, it nevertheless references another text; as Jones argues, this relativizes both texts and undermines their illusion of reality (281). Brown uses this to undermine the realism of the story even further and add a comedic element to both of his stories--even to "Helder", albeit retrospectively. Jones notes that "parody is one genre of comic art that makes particularly strong use of intertextuality" (282). This is because parody creates comedy by undermining the serious emotional effect arising from other texts' illusion of reality. Chester Brown's "Showing 'Helder'" is therefore a self-parodic story that makes itslef and "Helder" become funny in retrospect.

Deni Kasa

Laying Siege to Illustrative Design

2010-04-19T12:11:00.002-04:00

"Siege" is a new mini-series from Marvel Comics, which released its first issue in January of this year, and is set to conclude next month. Essentially, it is a classically epic story, pitting nearly all of the world's Marvel superheroes against each other.

In previous comic yarns that lead up to the offshoot "Siege" series, Marvel villain Norman Osborn consolidates his power in the United States, somehow managing to institute himself as head of the nation's security. The last resistance to his control is Asgard, which is both the mythic capital of the Norse gods, and the Marvel realm based on it. After some brief delay, the focus of the series becomes clear: Osborn means to attack Asgard in order to gain full control of the world's superheroes, or at least to subjugate them.

More than comics I've read in this class, this comic is not a subtle one. It contains all the flair of traditional Marvel comics, owing in part to its inclusion of such a plethora of Marvel characters. It has the immediately-established division between good and evil, and the sense that the world's fortunes rest squarely on the shoulders of these demi-gods, (and sometimes actual gods).

Moreover, the illustrations in the comic are similarly overt. They are intensely detailed, both in terms of the background and the main characters in each panel, and coloured extremely vividly. Marvel used a wide pallet in this comic, though they are generally dark in tone, to illustrate the "impending doom" of the situation. Right from the first issue there are several full-page spreads, predictably depicting the tensest of moments, or an action-packed solo flight across the country to reach someone in time, for instance.

Having to wait for each individual issue makes this comic seem like even more of a TV show than it actually is. It could easily make a smooth transition into a superhero cartoon geared at young teenage boys, with dramatic breaks coming at the conclusion of each issue. Though the detailed images are admittedly eye-catching, they take away from a multimodal experience. Little is done in this series to unravel the possibilities of the genre. Both the words and images could function independently, relating the same story with the same amount of significance.

2010-04-19T11:39:00.002-04:00

American Born Chinese is a 2006 graphic novel by American comics artist Gene Yang, who both wrote and illustrated the work. It tells three separate and seemingly very different stories, which later weave into one another. The first arc tells a traditional Chinese folk tale, the second arc is about a Chinese boy, Jin, while the third is about an American boy, Danny.

Danny does, however, have a Chinese cousin, Chin-Kee. Through Jin and Chin-Kee, the reader experiences very different characters. Jin is a comparatively average boy, who can be timid and awkward at times. He often seems out of place because he was raised with a traditional Chinese cultural background. Chin-Kee, however, is the embodiment of American stereotypes toward the Chinese, and the difference between the two characters can be seen in their illustrations. Chin-Kee is drawn as a stereotypical Chinese man, and his diction mirrors that as well.

A running theme with which Yang grapples is the lens of perception. Chin-Kee is seen the way he is, because he is seen through the protagonist of that story arc, Danny, an average white American jock. Jin, however, is seen as more accepted, relatively, because he is seen through his own perspective, in his own story, so to speak. But this lens of perception does not make life better for Jin.

In addition to the overt racism that is obvious between Danny and Chin-Kee, Yang explores the subtle racism experienced by Jin. The reader can easily overlook this, due to the imminence of Chin-Kee's treatment, and this was likely the goal of Yang: to illustrate a society that is teeming with under-pinned racism. Jin is treated differently, for example, in an important scene in the novel that includes him going on a date with an American girl. Furthermore, he is influenced by the views of his peers, possibly subconsciously, in the way that he is nervous and wary of the date.

Interestingly, the published format of the comic, which has received much acclaim, is rooted in a web comic, which I have not seen. I would presume, though, that web culture and racism there could have been explored in the web comic. Colour plays an obvious role in the work, both in terms of race and in terms of the actual art. These two realms overlap, creating a multimodal experience. The illustrations are very linear and crisp, with clear gutters on every page, and this can serve to elucidate the racial gap that is unfortunately apparent, but even more unfortunately, sometimes very unapparent.

Daytripper

2010-04-19T09:53:00.008-04:00

Written by: Fabio Moon
Art by: Gabriel Ba
Publisher: Vertigo

Daytripper is a series about life that uses death as it's main device. In it we get the story of Bras de Olivia Domingos' life. The series, running for ten issues, shows us the ten most important days in Bras' life, and the catch is that he dies at the end of every one of them. This is a surprise at the end of issue one and gradually comes to be expected as the series moves on. The art by Ba is beautiful and compliments the story, the colours bring each issue the right feel and tone. Issue 2 is happier and set mostly on a beach, the colours there are brighter, light blues and yellow to reflect the themes of young love and hope. In issues 3 and 4 the colours are darker, especially 4 where things are all shades of dark blue and muted. The colour reflects the mood of the characters and whether they are having a good day or bad.

The change in the colour can be seen in the covers above( cover for number 2 is top right and number 3 bottom left). For issue 2 the cover is brighter and covers more of the page, this element shows the reader the tone of the issue. The cover of issue three, one that begins to deal with loss, showcases much darker and more onimous colours. These centered around the image of Bras smoking over packed boxes also add to this darker tone. The images themselves cover less of the page here, as there is more white background there is less to see as there will be less for Bras in the story. These elements of the paratext show the reader the change in tone for each issue. The cover for issue 1(top left above) has all the images emerging from Bras, this tells the reader he is the main character and that things included in the "bubble" behind him are most likely what they will be learning from this story. The white space here disassociates the story from others, we know we are going to focus on one character in this tale as only his past is being represented here.

Daytripper gives us one man's life through ten days. It is up to the reader to put it together and see who this character is. The issues jump around, moving forward and back in time giving Bras' life out of order. This comic presents a chance to look at one character over the years and find out what makes him tick.

Heading to Indian Country

2010-04-19T09:32:00.006-04:00

Scalped by Jason Aaron with art by R.M. Guera tells the story of the Prairie Rose Indian Reservation in South Dakota. The first volume Indian Country (there has been five more so far) introduces us to Dashiell Bad-Horse, a tribal police officer, and Lincoln Red-Crow, one time criminal and now chief. What unfolds is a gritty and bloody crime drama taking what is already familiar about the genre and moving it to the Rez. That's what makes reading Scalped so enjoyable. The plot takes the expected turns in a story complete with double-agents and intrigue but none of it is very surprising. If you have seen the movies you know where Scalped is taking itself. The setting is what sets this offering apart from others. We have all see the Italian mob drama played out on page and on screen dozens of time, and more recently the Irish mob drama has taken over. This story refreshes the genre with its use of the reservation, a setting not often seen for stories like this.

The connection with the crime genre is displayed proudly on the cover. In what Gerard Genette calls the paratext, those things that surround a text and invite the reader into it, Scalped is sure to let the fans of other crime stories know that Scalped will resemble what they have seen before and take them somewhere new entirely. The back cover calls the story a "gripping mix of Sopranos-style organized crime drama and current Native American culture". This connects the book, and also the reader, with what the genre that they are already familiar with. Associating with the type of crime story that is already well liked will draw in readers looking for a similar experience. Just below this quote the back cover shows a large picture of a dead man, and the front shows Dashiell with nun-chucks around his neck with blood dripping from his mouth. These images contribute to the idea of the story of brutal, violent and bloody drama, all of which are good selling points for a crime story.

This first volume of Scalped sets up a fresh interpretation of the kind of crime stories that have been seen on TV and in movies for years. That doesn't take away from the fun of it though, it adds to it. Scalped knows it's selling a similar crime drama product to what is already out there and uses that to it's advantage.

Joe the Barbarian

2010-04-18T19:42:00.003-04:00

Joe the Barbarian: Angles
By: Grant Morrison and Sean Murphy

Stereotypic comic book heroes are usually depicted larger than life. This can be because of the artists choice or because of the foreground and the background in relation to the character. Increasingly, in some comic books which have a reality-based setting, writer/artist choose to depict the hero or protagonist as ordinary people, the same stature and size as an average individual. However Joe, isn’t the average Joe, he is different than the average person and it is interesting the way the artist portrays this. One method I felt the writer/artist was portraying Joe by his surroundings, more specifically the background and the foreground.

In Joe the Barbarian, the main focus of the panel is where the most action takes place. The artist often illustrates this panel in a somewhat distorted vision, where angles are extreme and images are realistically drawn but because of the angles are often observed as larger than they usually are. The images are detailed and the background is sometimes partially obscure, highlighting either Joe or the detailing of the panel.

What is an interesting move by the artist is the choice in repeating the images with minimal but significant changes, like the addition of a few objects or the change in angle. This further propels the reader into the story and complements the main action or narration the writer provides. Also the proximity in the way the angles are illustrated is also a smart decision by the writer and artist. These variation are important because they control when the reader feels the intensity of the action or the suspense of the storyline. Some angles also provide more language than text, especially when there are images that contain no text boxes. Without sound the image can visually speak for itself and the reader can link the images and ideas in succession to create their own suspense and keep them visually engaged in the comic.

Lastly, the angles are a interesting when analyzing Joe and his surroundings. They can pull the readers yes and distract them at the same time, a good way into pulling the reader in the character’s secretive world.

Marjane Satrapi's Embroideries: Women in Arab-Islamic Society

2010-04-18T18:23:00.001-04:00

Though there has been revolutionary success of women’s rights within the socio-political setting, allowing women of different backgrounds more opportunity for education, suffrage, employment, and freedom; in the Arab-Islamic world, most areas of the public sphere are still reinforced by strict religious beliefs and old static traditions. The age-old belief that the family resides in the conduct of its women is greatly respected in this part of the world. Honour is a virtue that has stood the test of time, the Arab-Islamic tradition holds honour to knowing what morals are and holding to tradition, not for oneself but for the greater good This they believe resides in a woman’s obligation to be chaste until marriage, the public concealment of their looks via “the veil” and their ability to upward climb the social ladder. Author Marjane Satrapi delightfully relates all of these Islamic societal norms in one tea-party afternoon spent with her grandmother, mother, aunt and neighbours in her graphic novel called Embroideries.

Satrapi takes an unconventional route in the way she forefronts the role of Iranian women, she offers us, the reader, a behind-the-scenes look into love, sex, marriages and infidelity of the private lives of the females in her family; in doing so Satrapi turns the public oppression of these women into domestic social opportunity and female independence. However, the question remains, are these women that Satrapi displays free? Are they liberated from male bondage and can do whatever they please?

The first page of Satrapi’s Embroideries provides an excellent example to understand how women in society are second to that of their male counter-part. In this opening scene a gourmet meal is prepared by Marjane Satrapi’s grandmother, Mr.Satrapi (Marjane’s grandfather) grants Mrs. Satrapi a compliment, she replies with “Satrapi flatters me.” (Satrapi 1). Marjane Satrapi offers the reader a footnote stating “My grandmother called my grandfather Satrapi, never by his first name. She said one must respect one’s husband” (Satrapi 1). This scene immediately demonstrates the subordinate role women play in this male dominated society. By simply footnoting the text in a conceptual gutter, the author leaves the reader to reflect on this opening panel and doing so the culture dynamics of the Arab-Islamic world.

“While the world/image dichotomy may be false or oversimple, learned assumptions about these different codes –written and pictorial –still exert a strong centripetal pull on the reading experience” (Hatfield, 2), the simplicity of images within this opening scene keeps the reality of it at an understanding level, so that the reader is easily able to identify with this situation and the culture. The words further perpetuate and reinforce ideas of dominance and inferiority that is easily identifiable when connected with the images. By Satrapi introducing the reader to the stark black and white hues of her novel and the free flowing dialogue which is carried throughout the book, she expands on the reality and the veracity of the Arab-Islamic culture, in a very thorough manner. Furthermore, this opening scene sets the precedence of an asymmetrical relationship between men and women, an unequal one such that women cannot communicate with their husband on a first name basis. As an introductory scene, one cannot help but assume that the women in this society and this novel are captive within the text and society; this right away forces the reader to assume that these women are the second sex, a feeling that reverberates throughout the novel.

Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis, the Visual Construction of Identity, and "The Veil"

2010-04-18T08:58:00.010-04:00

Persepolis by: Marjane Satrapi
Cristina Naccarato

Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, as mentioned by J. Kyle Lebel in a previous post, is an autobiographical memoir about a young woman growing up during the Islamic Revolution, the capture of the American Embassy, and the Iran-Iraq War. Persepolis is an autographic (as Whitlock and Poletti describe in their essay, Self-Regarding Art, " Life narrative fabricated in and through drawing and design using various technologies, modes, and materials") exploring Satrapi’s own personal history, but also how her own history is intertwined with the history of her country, and in turn how her identity has been constructed through these relationships.

Satrapi’s recollection of her experience depicts how great of an impact the Islamic revolution has on her own life, as well as the lives of young Iranian women. One of the biggest impacts these women had to face was the forced wearing of “the veil.” This was a direct symbol of the force that Islamic fundamentalism had on the bodies of Muslim girls and women. Satrapi specifically, growing up in a radical family with two parents who were Marxist intellectuals, found this particularly restrictive, and threatening, and in turn, experienced a loss of self in this process.

Satrapi’s use of a black and white panel, emphasizes this lack of individuality, yet, she very consciously individualizes each character through herdrawings. Her female figures are human, have their own character, and individuality traits even with the veil on. By visually showing their restrictive appearance, but then adding specific character differentiations, Satrapi multi-modally constructs the identity of her characters, emphasizing that each woman is unique.

For example, in this frame, each girl has been drawn, seemingly exactly the same, but on closer inspection, Satrapi has given each female a different hairstyle, different eyes and different nose, which emphasizes her notion that these girls are all unique.

By consciously constructing individuality, Satrapi’s intend to honor the resistence of Iranian women is successful. Veiled women are often dehumanized and classified as indistinguishable, but Satrapi breaks these barriers and subverts the view of Iranian women, presenting them as individual as Western women.

Memories of 9/11: Alissa Torres' struggle to survive in 'American Widow'

2010-04-16T21:10:00.004-04:00

Writer: Alissa Torres
Illustrator: Sungyoon Choi

American Widow is the raw re-telling of one woman's attempt to pick up the pieces of her shattered life after 9/11. Alissa Torres was a young mother-to-be whose husband had begun working for Cantor Fitzgerald, a company situated in one of the twin towers on September 10, 2001. His death began a journey for Alissa that is as fearful as terror itself and poses the questions, "how do you move forward after such a tragedy"?
Alissa Torres uses this graphic novel to discuss her struggle to survive financially and emotionally after her husband's death. Here, we can see her problems with finding aid that was promised by the government, issues with the Red Cross in preparing her husband's funeral, and the lack of support by friends and citizens of the US.

Reviews discuss American Widow as a failure in terms of telling an accurate story because there are aspects of Alissa's life that are mentioned but never fully discussed. For example, Alissa does not go into detail about her son, nor does she discuss the topic of the arguement between herself and her husband that was never resolved. But, this graphic novel isn't about those details. Rather, Alissa tells her story by sticking to the facts of those grueling months after 9/11, and the empty promises of the American government and those agencies that promised to help 9/11 victims and never pulled through.

American Widow feels like experiencing the painful discomfort of an open wound. The reader follows the story along with Alissa as she encounters every jab at her rights as a widow and as a human being.

I was a grade 9 student with glasses and braces sitting in science class when planes were flying into buildings, killing to inflict terror on an entire nation. I remember exactly what the weather was like that day, and I remember how I felt as I watched the news. But I cannot relate to Alissa Torres and the many many victims and survivors of 9/11 because I did not feel fear that day like so many others did. If I can't relate, then how can I judge her story? As a graphic novel, American Widow has all of the ingredients- panels, gutters, flow and a storyline. To Alissa Torres, this was the best way to tell her story. And maybe parts are left out because, as a reader, we cannot understand or empathize with her; we don't have the same memories of 9/11 as Alissa Torres does. Maybe all we have to do is read her story as an example of what terrorism and national tragedy are capable of.

The Comics Bildungsroman: Analysing the Depiction of Marjane Satrapi's Development in Persepolis

2010-04-15T13:20:00.005-04:00

Persepolis 1 & 2
Written and Drawn by: Marjane Satrapi
Analysis by: J. Kyle LeBel

Among the most endearing storytelling modes is the bildungsroman, the novel of development from childhood into adolescence. Literary classics from many epochs are stories of development, ranging from Dickens’ Great Expectations (1860-61) to Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children (1981). There is a resonance to stories about charming characters growing up that makes the bildungsroman not only timeless, but compatible to any storytelling medium, including graphic novels. Among the finest graphic bildungsromans is Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, a series spanning two volumes that masterfully utilizes the visual and textual elements of a graphic novel to demonstrate Marjane’s personal and psychological growth. Through the two volumes (in English translation), Satrapi’s treatment of the visual and textual aspects of the graphic novel demonstrate an author who understands the capabilities of the medium, and uses the available rhetorical devices to chart Marjane’s personal development. For the first volume, Marjane’s story is predominantly quick paced and visual based. Yet in the second volume, Satrapi utilizes the textual aspects of the graphic novel to a greater extent, slowing the pacing to show a worldly and articulate heroine.

Throughout both volumes, Satrapi’s visual inventiveness when creating non-diegetic images brilliantly captures Marjane’s states of mind and her feelings regarding her place within a changing Iran. These images take on psychological slants, such as the large panel in volume one of Marjane floating through outer space, representing her feeling of dislocation within the world (Satrapi 71), or when Marjane depicts herself as a warped Hulk-like figure as a representation of the transformations she undergoes during puberty in volume two (Satrapi 35/1). These images also take metaphorical slants, as when Marjane depicts herself behind prison bars in volume two (163/7), linking her future life as a married woman to life as a prisoner. Through the aforementioned compositions, and many others, Satrapi exhibits full understanding of how the graphic novel medium can form meaning through the visuals, and utilizes her artwork to its fullest effect in relaying crucial information regarding the storyline, and her own state of mind.
Yet there are marked differences between the interplay of words and images in each volume of Persepolis, as these differences rhetorically convey the maturation of Marjane as a human being. Most of the panels in Persepolis 1 contain what Scott McCloud describes as “duo-specific images” (153), images where the text and drawings relay the similar amounts of information with regards to the storyline. Conversely, many of Satrapi’s panels in volume 2 feature more “word-specific images [where the] pictures illustrate, but do not add significantly to a text” (McCloud 153). The increased focus on words within the panels demonstrates the growth of Marjane as a character, because the much of the imagery steeped in a child’s imagination from Persepolis 1 is replaced by more verbal descriptions of her thoughts and actions. For example, a typical image found in Persepolis 1 is one where Marjane imagines herself operating outside of her physical capabilities as a child—or as a human being. One image emblematic of this is where she sees herself as a devil in her mirror, complete with horns brimming from her head, while saying she “had a diabolical feeling of power” (53/5). Such an image highlights the range a child’s imagination can take, doing so with equal integration of the visual and the textual.

Meanwhile, a common panel in Persepolis 2 is one where Marjane will describe a character she has relations with, or an event she attended, while using the image in the panel for merely supplemental purposes. One example of this occurs when she speaks of her brief relationship with Markus, a boy she meets while attending school in Vienna, and why the relationship failed. She says “I no longer condemn him. Markus had a history, a family, friends. I had no one but him” (Satrapi 83/6), while the image she depicts is of Markus and his people surrounding him. While important people in Markus’ life are in the image, their depiction is secondary, as Satrapi’s words describing Markus and her relationship to him is the primary focal-point in the panel. Even a crucial panel in Persepolis 2’s climax features a word-specific panel, as Marjane’s dialogue is the only portion of the panel containing relevant information to the plot. “I can’t take it anymore. I want to leave this country” (183/3) exclaims Marjane while she sits in a car with her friend. Though Marjane is making a grand declaration regarding her intentions to permanently leave her homeland, Satrapi opts not to depict the facial expressions of her younger-self as she makes one of the most important statements in her life. Instead, Satrapi shows Marjane’s speech bubble seeping out the car, while the car drives through the Tehran cityscape. Truth be told, the Tehran cityscape makes the reader aware of the setting, a place Marjane’s declares her intention to leave. However, the words are the primary focus of the scene, and the streets of Tehran and the large mountain in the backdrop has no direct relation to Marjane’s words, while her statement is the main focal point of the panel.

To be fair, Persepolis as a series may not be a bildungsroman in the truest sense. It is not a “novel of development,” since the term novel implies a work of fiction, and Persepolis is entirely real. But it is a story of growth, and a story of maturation, while Satrapi is far more candid in the retelling of her life story than most people would be. The growth of Marjane from childhood to adulthood shows real development through the artistic possibilities of the comics medium, and the interplay between text and image varies greatly in Persepolis 1 and Persepolis 2. The first part is a visual and textually equal story, where a child’s imagination runs wild, while the shift towards the textual in the second part marks Marjane’s intellectual maturation, with greater emphasis placed on some of the textual elements instead of the visual elements. Together, Persepolis becomes not only a story of growth, but a story showcasing a true understanding of the rhetorical tools at available within the comics medium. Satrapi’s use of the available rhetorical means enables Persepolis to be just as emotionally and intellectually resonant as any purely textual bildungsroman that came before it.

Note: Persepolis is available as seperate volumes in the UWindsor Leddy Library. It is also available as one volume titled The Complete Persepolis, which can be found at retail bookstores and online. The above analysis used the separate volumes from Leddy for the analysis, though I personally recommend picking up The Complete Persepolis.

Get Yer Sea Legs to Read the Panels of "Treasure Island"

2010-04-12T03:46:00.008-04:00

Comic: Treasure Island

Writer: Roy Thomas
Penciler: Mario Gully
Inker: Pat Davidson
Colorist: A. Crossley
Distributor: Marvel

Ahoy there! This be one right good graphic novel, indeed it is. But there be some trouble with certain parts o' the flow: like a rough ocean it be! Ye may very well be needing yer comic-sea legs afore ye have a smooth voyage through some o' this text's paneling! Yar, and such!

Okay, I can't keep that up much longer.

Did you want that in English? This was a nice graphic novel, but sometimes, the paneling can be a little awkward, making a couple pages difficult to read.

Now, near the beginning of the comic, the paneling is a bit wild and cascaded. This is not really the difficult part yet. Though this can slow down the reading and perhaps leave you a little uncertain, this is done to reflect the uncertainty and mystery surrounding the beginning of the story. Who are these frightening buccaneers, what do they want, what will they do to get it?

Later on, when the main character knows what he's doing and where he's going (in other words, when he finds his heading), the paneling levels out and becomes more or less normal. Well, normal in the sense that the panels begin to line up, at least.

The really difficult part, for me at least, is when they alter the usual way of reading a two-page spread. If you look up Scott McCloud or Durwin Talon, they'll both stress the importance of panels flowing nicely. You don't want your readers to get stuck or confused: it takes them out of the story! The average western reader reads a text from left to right, top to bottom, one page and then the next. What the creators attempted to do in a few two-page spreads of Treasure Island might have worked if the pages were seamlessly connected (and did not sink into the spine). However, this is a graphic novel and the pages DO go down into the spine.
So what is this thing that they did? Well, the tried to make it so that you read those special spreads in this order: top of page 1, top of page 2, bottom of page 1, bottom of page 2. They did this by having a panel in between the two pages, half on one and half on the other, at the top half of the spread. The problem is that the crease at the spine splits the small panel so that you bounce off it and head from top of page 1 to bottom of page 1 like you would with any other graphic novel. Here, look at this example. The red line represents what habit might make you do (and therefore not read it properly). Let me tell you, doing it this way makes the story seem awkward, but really you're just not reading it right (this is how I read it the first time). The green is how, more-or-less, you are expected to read it. Behold! (did pirates say behold? hmm, probably not...)
I was going to have a moving picture that showed you the red and then the green, but that would take forever and a day to load. >_<
Do you see what I mean? The crease acts almost like a panel-edge, like the gutter. With small panels like these, the carry-over on the next page isn't enough to pull they eye past the book's spine. The effect of the crease might be hard to appreciate at this size (especially since I stuck both pages together), but just imagine it. Take that little line you see in my picture and intensify it. There are at least two more instances of this in the text, but we'll just look at one more.

There we go, you can see the line better in this one. The text can be a bit confusing when you read it wrong. Heh. Luckily for me, I realized what was going on before I got much farther, then reread these parts quickly. By the third one, I thougt to re-read it before I got two pages away! What progress!

I'm definitely not saying you should avoid this graphic novel. It was a delight. I only want to warn you about a possible couple of awkward layouts (and, of course, see the effect layouts can have in different conditions/situations). It believe what the creators were trying to do was a good idea, but it just doesn't work (at least for some people) very well in a book form (compared to, say, digital form where the spread would have no interruption).

Avast, mateys!

What Makes A Supervillan "Incorruptible?"

2010-04-11T01:47:00.011-04:00

Comic: Incorruptible
Writer: Mark Waid
Artist: Jean Diaz
Publisher: Boom! Studios

"Mark Waid is evil." That's the line I read wherever I find something about his series "Irredeemable." And trust me, they mean it in a good way.

Let's start with the situation in the story.

Imagine a world where the greatest of all superheroes, the Plutonian (who is essentially Superman), decides he's going on a killing spree. An unstoppable supervillain is created. That is the situation in Irredeemable. Mark Waid turns superheroism on its head and leaves a dark hopeless world behind. Incorruptible is a spin-off of that series where he does just the opposite: a man-of-steel supervillain decides that he must change his ways and become a hero.

Max Damage is this man. He is attempting to "go straight" and become the incorruptible force of good any superhero is expected to be. In the first two issues, the ones I've had the pleasure of reading, we see his first attempts at heroics.

The opportunity for the creators to show his transition to becoming a hero in the body of the comics are used wonderfully. Intertextuality with other comic book heroes and the symbolism of Max's portrayal are key tools to do this. These are the things I'll be addressing today.

I'll start with the first issue (the cover page of which is above). Max Damage is immediately comparable to two of the most incorruptible and famous superheroes around: Batman, and Superman himself. Take a look at the page on the right and tell me that's not a Superman flying stance. If it's not, then my name is Shirley Sunwell McDougall. Since that is definitely not my name, I have now proven with math that that is totally a Superman stance. :) He's even got a hair curl going on!

The call to Superman is of course partially undone by Max's so very un-Superman appearance! No cape, no tights; heck, Max is looking much more like the Punisher with his dark jeans and jacket. So we have a mixed image: half-representing the pure good Man of Steel, half-representing the vengeful violent Punisher. The dark look on his face isn't helping the goodie-goodie half either. On the other hand, trigger-happy police officers sure look like evil henchmen in the second panel, shooting at our hero.
Then, there are a few Batman-esque aspects of Max's portrayal as well. First of all, he's got a batcave. And even though he doesn't have a batmobile, he does have a sweet car. When we first see him in the comic, he is a shadowy figure jumping down from a high post to save the day. Sound like our Dark Knight? And the topping on the cake is that he's working with a member of the police to help him do his good deeds (so, a Gordan equivalent) despite a corrupt department.

So where is our caped man in tights? Right here! Burning the world to the ground around him. It will be the duty of a villain to stop a hero from destroying everything.

In the second issue, we see Max Damage portrayed as half-way between being a hero and a villain. Most prominently, this is seen when he is only able to shave half of his stubble before having to go out and start being a good guy. For a good deal of the issue, we see him from his clean-shaven side when he's representing the force of good. When his heroic methods are somewhat questionable, we see the two sides of his face (and of his character). My favorite example of this is when he loses some control at the violent actions of three police officers (see right). Look at the dark shading on the stubble-covered side of his face. That says it all.

As stated before, despite his best efforts he only manages to be a half-way hero in this issue. Again, here, police shoot bullets that just bounce off his body, they look like bad guys shooting at Superman. But Max Damage, besides not being in absolute control of himself, also can't convince anyone of his change of heart. He tries to assure the police, they shoot at him. When he tries to ask people questions nicely, they beg for their lives, requiring him to ask harshly to get them to talk. Unfortunately it seems like nobody is appreciating the clean-shaved half of his face!

On a final note, he also seems to be missing another common superhero quality: a second identity. He has no mask, no disguise, and the closest thing to a costume he has could resemble the get-up of a common biker. To his credit though, he, like any superhero in his world, has no time for non-super life.

This being my first monthly-comic experience, I didn't stay on top of things and missed the third issue (sold out when I called in for it). I'm certainly on the edge of my seat, wanting to know what comes next. I plan to follow both series, and if you even almost like superheroes (in movies, cartoons, or comics) then this will be an engaging read for you as well. It intelligently plays with what is expected of heroes and entwining it with the manners of villains. With the role reversal played out not just in the plot, but images and characteristics as well, it should prove to be a fascinating ride.

Becoming a True Believer: The Beginning of my Comic Collecting Career

2010-04-09T01:20:00.015-04:00

It’s probably difficult to believe, but I didn’t seriously become a true comic book fan until freshman year of University. Sure I knew about Spider-man; who didn’t? I watched The Incredible Hulk on T.V. whenever it was on; Lou Frigno was the greatest Hulk I ever seen! I even downloaded the X-Men theme song from the 90’s as my cell phone ring tone. But really, I hated the idea of collecting comics for the soul purpose of continuality, by the time I was old enough to appreciate comics, single issues were always some part of a larger arc, and I hated being out of the loop!

By the end of freshman year, however, I picked up my first real graphic novel; Ultimate Spider-man Collection 1.
When I first read through the pages of the trade paperback (tpb), it was like going to an arcade for the first time, I knew all about the material, but never experienced it. Everything felt familiar, but at the same time new. Parker was still a geek, but he was witty and fun. The spider was no longer radioactive, but genetically engineered. Like a shot from Spidey’s web I became caught in this narrative of Spider-man mythos! Eventually, I started to collect these tpb via Amazon.ca. And it began…

Soon enough, a friend of mine, the legendary Aaron Feldman, asked if I wanted to go to Rogues Gallery with him. I never went to a comic shop before so I didn’t know what to expect. All I had as expectation was the sarcastic, fat, balding Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons. But when I entered the wooden door into a small room filled with boxes of comics, T-shirts, and Thor toys, I knew I was welcomed. Even George, the real comic book guy, was approachable and friendly. About seven tbp’s (and about 160 dollars) later, I’ve discovered my new hobby!

But still no single issues.

That’s why this project of getting single issues was so important. I have finally become a collector of comics, but I needed to find out why I really hated collecting singles. I went with Jeff Lemire’s Sweet Tooth.
Already they were thinner than usual, making it less likely to survive in my room. Tpb’s always survive cramming and shelving because their books. Singles need to be carefully put away in plastic covering, too much effort on my part. Secondly, I wasn’t able to go every week (because heaven help me, I have expensive sushi/comic tastes), so sometimes I would miss a chapter. And there is nothing worse then waiting for something that has already come out. But thankfully, I have up to issue 8, so I’m not behind.

So that’s the lengthy origin of my super hero comic hobby. Since then, I have collected nearly 250 different trades, and have managed to branch out a little from the capes to Maus to The Nobody to Gears of War...

And so I say in conclusion the famous words of Stan Lee...

Aw forget it.

BATMAN: The Widening Gyre

2010-04-08T16:35:00.002-04:00

PULITZER PRIZE

Writer: Kevin Smith
Artist: Walt Flangan
Lettering: Jared K. Fletcher
Released by DC

Intertextuality is a funny thing; it only works if you get it! So when I picked up Kevin Smith’s newest attempt at rendering the Gotham landscape I was shocked to see a blending of Yeats’ Poetry, what is considered high literature, with the superhero genre, which is usually regarded in a less then prestigious light, coalescing in a dialogue suited for Clerks III. Comical, yes, but just not the right style for the brooding bat. As each issue progresses Smith seems to figure out which characters, like the wisecracking Robin and the cougaresque Catwoman, are more suited to his askew eccentricities and bawdy jokes. Thankfully Smith finds his stride after the free-for-all of the 1^st issue. Combining some of the heaviest hitters from the Rouges Gallery, including Baron Blitzkrieg, Poison Ivy, Etrigan, Croc and the Joker in one plot structure. Smith also sets up the continuing story arch which introduces a new masked vigilante and flirts with the idea of the dark knight,hanging up his cape and cowl and retiring into the arms of our favorite bombshell Silver St. Cloud to the become Bruce Wayne he is thinks he is searching for.

Each villain, even if only seen for one panel adds another layer of intertext to the plot, especially when you follow the schizophrenic story line. As Smith explained it, the series will have twelve issues split into two six-issue books. Issue # 1 will run through September 2009 to April 2010 and, after a six-month hiatus, Book 2 will run through July 2010 and through December 2010. This split in release dates mimics the intertextual outline of the title, a line from the William Butler Yeats poem "The Second Coming" located below.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

~William Butler Yeats

Yeats’ poem uses Christian imagery concerning the Apocalypse and second coming allegorically to describe the atmosphere in post-war Europe. As each Issue is released it is entitled after the next segment in the poem: Issue #1 - the widening gyre, #2 - Turning and turning, #3 - the falconer, #4 - Things fall apart, #5 - centre cannot hold, and #6 - Mere anarchy.

The gyre is representative of a theory of history and metaphysics, drawn from Yeats's book A Vision, which he claimed to receive from spirits. The theory centers on a diagram composed of two conic helixes or gyres, one situated inside the other circling in a continuous cycle. Yeats claimed that model captured the contrary motions inherent in the process and access of history in the lives of the individual. This model is indicative of the caped crusader constantly cycling duel identities within himself which is played out again and again through Batman’s personal history as he constantly faces his laundry list of villains: never escaping, never faltering, until now. His Personal History is set in a model of perpetual motion, forever repeating, because of his traumatic beginning.

The intermix of poetic line and reasoning, allows Smith to transgress through the Batman universe pulling in past exploits and battles to inform the current situations. The flashbacks are creatively constructed with a washed out colour pallet and more traditional character design harking back to a mid sixties Bat with a flamboyant bowl cut boy wonder. There is even an instance where Catwoman tries to seduce Batman, in Issue # 5, wearing Eartha Kit’s purple and pink ensemble as a throwback to the glory days of Adam West and the live action series. The story line parallels the Bat’s internal identity struggle, reinforcing it by collapsing the past, present and future. The attack of Barron Blitzkrieg allows for Batman to Patrol with Dick Grayson as Nightwing, and flashbacks to remind the reader of the Dynamic Duo when Dick still donned Robins Green and Red, while at the same time reminding us of the present Robin, Tim Drake, over the intercom while the whole cataclysm of remembrance and resurgence is tied up by the future savior Baphomet. Smith seems to be trying to saturate the plot with so much memorabilia that from chaos a new hero will emerge, rather than a re-envisioning, but at this point it’s unclear which character will survive as the protector of Gotham.

Discussing History Using Licensed Comic Characters.

2010-04-08T15:23:00.005-04:00

Graphic Novel: X-Men: Magneto Testament
Writer: Greg Pak
Artist: Carmine Di Giandomenico
Publisher: Marvel
Year: 2009

Magneto. The master of magnetism. For decades, he has been the sympathetic villain of the X-Men. The reason? Being a holocaust victim, Magneto fears that being part of the mutant minority will eventually lead to genocide of his people. Comic writer Greg Pak and artist Carmine Di Giandomenico went back to Magento’s origins in such a way where the story is more about fact than fiction, a rare gem found in iconic superhero lore.

In a nutshell, Pak creates a story about a young man Max Eisenhardt (Magneto) and his family going through the events of the holocaust. Even though Max does have limited control of metal, not at one single point does the story leave realism. In fact, his ability is so insignificant the only time he uses it is to unwillingly dodge a single bullet. History plays such an important factor in this book that it becomes an accurate portrayal of the holocaust.

This all has to do with the paratext of the book. To start off, the first page before the comic begins has a giant skull and crossbones sign that says “Halt”, indicating that this isn’t some fantastical superhero comic, this is about the holocaust. Throughout the story, there are narrator notes with facts showing the number of the deaths within a year and so on. For example, caption boxes, well known techniques to give setting in superhero comics, will say “August 2, 1944. ‘Zigenunernacht’ or Gypsy Night. The Gypsy family camp is liquidated. 2,987 people are gassed and burned in the outdoor pits.” Comments like this are so specific that it forces the reader outside of the story of Magneto and focuses on the information about the holocaust. It also questions where this information came from.

Thankfully, the afterwards contain twenty pages of research, extra holocaust information as well as several afterwards from Greg Pak. He mentions that when “working on ‘Magneto: Testament’ three years ago, they [we] made a commitment to strive to be as historically accurate as possible.” Again, there is a departure from superhero comics and more focus on history, using a superhero character. Furthermore, in Pak’s afterward, he mentions that the book includes “extensive endnotes citing sources and providing additional context” in order to “inspire further discussion and research.” One of the most interesting extra’s is a Teacher’s Guide which helps teachers create a lesson plan where they can use this text, and supplement other literary works, in order to discuss the holocaust.

All of this research and careful use of paratext further demonstrates that comics, even those containing staple licensed characters, can be used to express a realist, historical, narrative.

Female Characters Hit Opposites of the Attraction Spectrum

2010-04-01T15:29:00.004-04:00

Demo "The Waking life of Angels" Issue 1
Brian Wood/Becky Cloonan
Vertigo

The typical heroine is the woman none of us females can live up to. She is placed on the pedestal where all of the regularly proportioned, avergage women are looking up towards with sympathy.

When I first picked up this issue, my focus went immediately to the cover page, that wonderful paratextual element that either attracts a curious reader or not. Is it surprising to find an attractive feminine face with flowing hair and a line of cleavage? Not at all, since the purpose of the cover is to entice readers to pick up the comic. But what message does this woman present, not only to the world of comic readers but to women on a global scale? We see this type of woman in other mediums as well, such as film and even novels.

Flipping through the pages of this issue, I found it interesting that almost all of the panels where the heroine is depicted show her with her shirt falling off of her shoulders, her hair in her face, or her facial expression as one of seduction and mystery. There were moments when I was reading this comic that I forgot what the story was about; I became completely immersed in the perfection of the heroine, although strictly physical perfection, but perfection all the same.

Contrasted to this perfect woman is that other typical female found in many of the comics I've read this semester; she is the opposite of physical perfection and never plays the role of the heroine. Rather, this type of female stands on the sidelines of the story while the male protagonist does his job. Oh, and frankly, she's ugly. Now, where do all of the other women...the real women...fit?

So, if we're going to think about comics as a form of teaching elementary and high school students a few things in the classroom, shouldn't we also be teaching them about reality, even in the comic world created of mostly make-believe? Young boys read comics where women are portrayed in physical perfection or are just plain ugly. They have no opportunity to value the "real" woman...you know, like the one standing up at the front of the classroom or the one that makes their PB&J sandwiches in the morning. Young girls also read comics but a large portion of them cannot relate to the female protagonists because they don't have constant cleavage and perfect skin.

So what purpose do these two types of women serve? Are they used to sell issues? Are they meant to attract a certain audience? Being a new-comer to the world of comics, I'd like to explore this issue because I think it is something that can be altered to serve a more positive purpose.

The Paratext of 'Pride of Baghdad'

2010-03-29T14:37:00.004-04:00

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan
Artist: Niko Henrichon
Lettering: Todd Klein
Released by VERTIGO

Let’s judge a book by its cover. What does it tells us? What do we read from a lion’s deep, large eyes peering through a twisted metal cage with the word PRIDE written in block white letters below his mouth? A simpler question may be, why do we pick up a book as opposed to all of the others in a book store or library. The answer, according to Gerard Genette is the power of paratextuality.

PRIDE OF BAGHDAD is based on a story from the opening days of the War in Iraq, when American jets bombed the capital city and ending up destroying the walls of the Baghdad Zoo. It was said that animals roamed throughout the city for the next few days, confused and not knowing who to trust. More importantly, this anecdote becomes an allegory for people caught in a warzone. A pride of lions stand in for countless men, women and children who were oppressed by their own government but confused as to where life goes next.

No text exists on its own, so the way it is displayed to the public is an important part of how it is received. Examples of paratexts include the author’s name, the title, cover art, critical reviews and essays, synopses, prefaces and even the table of content. Whether or not paratextual elements influence the text itself, they do surround and extend it, bringing the story directly to us and mediated the way we approach a text. Creators are competing with an increasingly large amount of new works, and paratextuality works to draw readers in. Only images or text that the writer or his associates have put on the cover and take responsibility for falls into the category of paratext; sale stickers are not paratext, though they may be a very powerful way to grab attention. Although critical reviews do not come directly from the author, they are carefully selected and become part of the authors own work.

The paratext is more than a boundary separating the reader from the story. Genette wants us to think of it as a threshold “that offers the world at large the possibility of either stepping inside or turning back.” Often, paratextual elements will give the reader an opportunity to make assumptions about the text. The second paragraph of the synopsis says “PRIDE OF BAGHDAD raises vital questions about the true meaning of freedom.” By the 2006 release of this text, the war in Iraq had already gone sour and a plethora of anti-war literature was being created by American artists. “Whatever aesthetic or ideological investment the author makes,” according to Genette “in a paratextual element… (it) is always subordinate to ‘its’ text, and this functionality determines the essence of its appeal and its existence.” Making readers aware that the book is going to be critical in some way of ‘the true meaning of freedom’ can draw in readers who may or may not read comics because it is a subject they understand and look to explore.

Some paratextual elements, called ‘public’ by Genette, are directed at anyone who may only briefly encounter the work. For example, above author Brian K. Vaughan’s name reads “From the Award-Winning Writer of ‘Y: The Last Man’ and ‘Ex Machina’.” Readers of both of those series will already recognize his name and other comic enthusiasts will recognize them as being highly regarded and possibly be interested in reading this. I for one had a vague idea about ‘Y’ but the paratext affected me simply because I knew others had read that series and really enjoyed it; if I had no knowledge of Vaughan or any of his previous work, the fact that I am told his work is award winning may draw my attention. This is why so many novels have seals for the Giller or Pulitzer Prize proudly shown on the cover –or the comic equivalent, the Eisner. People like to read what is popular and it encourages readers to think that it will be a top notch book.

Critical reviews are an important part of Paratextuality. On the front cover there is one from USA Today but it is the eleven on the back that show how truly admired the work is. Reviews from New York Times and Publisher’s Weekly may be more respected then from the Portland Oregonian, but each individual review used adds credibility.

I first picked up PRIDE OF BAGHDAD because of the bright cover. The orange and reds look like fire and conveyed ideas of crisis and power. The cover art and the comic itself share a similar colour palette, which shows a coherency of the art and shows the reader what they should expect. Niko Henrichon’s realistic art and bright colours really make the story leap. The bright orange expresses the volatility and firery nature of the text. What really got me reading, however, was when I opened the book and saw the first title page. The blue skies and wispy translucent clouds were calming and mythic. More importantly, because is written in Arabic, it brings the reader into the culture that the American military had entered and makes the reader, at least for a second, look at the story –and in turn the war- through the eyes of Iraqi civilians. Paratexts give the reader a chance to make a decision about what to spend their time and money on; the paratext for this book is particularly effective at conveying the emotional power of the work.

The Hidden War

2010-03-24T21:04:00.005-04:00

DMZ:Vol. 6 The Hidden War
Writer: Brian Wood
Artists: Riccardo Burchielli, Danidel Zezelj, Nathan Fox
Colourist: Jeromy Cox
Letter: Jared K. Fletcher
VERTIGO: Comic Books for Mature Readers

The Hidden War shifts attention from the frontline soldiers, news reports and politicians to the breathing pulse of New York City, its people. The Manhatters have been struggling all this time to survive, living in some of the worst conditions imaginable and now their stories are being told personally right from the DMZ. Now in its 51^st issue, DMZ takes on a very different format in Vol.5 The Hidden War, issues 23-28. The paratext sets up this exposé of the private lives of those living in that luminal space between war and calm. This structure builds on what Duncan and Smith refer to as the “proliferating narrative” where the main plot of news coverage provided by Matty Roth, the now freelance photojournalist formally of Liberty News, concerning the action at ground zero (130). The rising action follows the plot device concerning the volatile conflict between the Free States, the U.S. federal government and the civilians living in Manhattan. This structural expansion includes six mini vignettes that introduce new characters as well as focusing in on existing ones to give us a better understanding of the environment that is inaccessible from Matty’s point of view. In vol. 5, recurring characters like Wilson and Kelly become further developed, providing back story intertwined with glimpses of the future. Matty is used, in flashback sequences for the most part, as a link between these very different individuals allowing the narrative web to further develop beyond the limited view of Matty’s main plot to construct a fuller and more diverse whole.

The first story, illustrated by Burchielli, looks at the guerilla graffiti artist “Decade Later” who, trying for one last shot at fame, planned a grand work involving the MTA. Decade Later first appeared in Vol. 2 Body of a Journalist, and it is his graffiti and other artworks that unite city throughout the series. His tag and messages, such as the play on words “FAITH FULL,” are prolific and all call attention to maintaining hope when it seems hopeless, which seems to be a common feeling for many of the residents of the DMZ. The title/character name is “symbolic,” as Magnussen would suggest, of the plot structure (201). The narrative jumps from the beginning of the war to a decade later and back again, marking the flash back with a bleached colour palette. But despite the time Decade’s problems are the same, he’s still trying to avoid recruitment and he’s still trying to create that piece that speaks to the city and world.

With each new tale we become more aware of how the DMZ affects the people who come into contact with its indifference. The wasteland constructs a new moral code enforcing a type of social Darwinism. The third biography, illustrated by Zezelj, looks at “Wilson”: The grandfather of China town who first appeared in Vol. 1 On the Ground. It details how the low level gangster becomes a triad headman and the militant mob boss of Chinatown as the fire of war begins. The war provided the chaos needed to birth a new regime to protect his neighborhood in the DMZ.

Each narrative is disjointed from the next by shifting art and artists. But the liner panels also seem to set this collection apart from the other volumes while uniting it as a whole. The spatiotopic stacking of horizontal panels with smaller inserts propels the reader forward as the eye is drawn to the larger the chunky dramatic scenes. This adds cohesion to the overall arthrology of the book as a whole despite the variation in appearance. The colour tones shift from cool and gloomy, increasing in heat and intensity as each story progresses and then after the central peak with “Kelly” at the center of the text they return to the cool blue of the initial pages. Each element seems to cycle back creating concentric narratives that overlap and circle each other. Each character in this Volume seems completely unconnected to the next at first, if you disregard their central link to Matty Roth. But, Wood builds on this template, fleshing out the grid, to further substantiate the recurring themes and images, like the graffiti or the outsider indifference to Manhattan’s residents, which have become signature elements of the DMZ. By placing this companion collection at the center of the series the reader becomes more involved and aware of the potential world Wood and Burchielle are trying to create.

Comic Books as a Literacy Aid

2010-03-08T12:23:00.010-05:00

When comic books were first introduced to the general public they were considered to be detrimental to the welfare if youngsters. In many ways it's easy to understand how this idea came to be -- many people are afraid of things of which they know nothing. This idea was still somewhat prevalent when I was a child (back in the 50s and 60s), however, there was a line of comic books introduced in the 60s called "Classics Illustrated". This line of comic books took classic children's tales such as Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid and The Emperor's New Clothes (two of my favourites as a child) and reproduced them in comic book format. These comic books were designed to help introduce young readers to the classics and I'll be honest with you, I found them much more enjoyable to read than the actual stories. The reason why is simple. It was more pleasurable to have the pictures break up the monotony of the words. It is for this reason that I believe comic books can be an effective aid in literacy. While they may not be classic writings, they do serve a purpose.
One example that I can relate to you involves a current University of Windsor student. This is an older gentleman who told me that when he was in grade school and high school, he was unable to pass English because of his inability to read. The method he used to help himself learn to read involved the Looney Tunes comic book series. He would pour over these comics continuously in an effort to learn to read words. As time progressed he became more familiar with the words and eventually was able to read -- by associating the pictures to the words. By the time he was in his late teens he was able to read Tarzan and has enjoyed reading books ever since. Had it not been for these comics books fueling a desire to read, this gentleman may not have learned the pleasure of reading a book.
Another example that is more current, involves some youngsters that I have encountered at my son's school. I assist with the homework club at the school. One aspect of the homework is to read after they have completed any other assigned lessons. I was surprised when I noticed how many of the youngsters (gr. 4-5) have difficulty reading. The other item that surprised me was that often the books these children were using to assist their reading were comic book format, mostly digest in nature. They would look at the pictures first, then attempt to read. This format seemed to be more acceptable and less frustrating than a standard book. Even if the comic book is not literature "proper", it still has a function and can be a useful tool in helping children read. One mother was telling me how frustrated she would get trying to entice her daughter to read -- she finally said, even if it's a comic book, at least she trying to read something.
The early years of comics books may have gotten a bum rap, but over time they have definitely proved that they have a place in society. They have evolved just as many other mediums have evolved. They have grown from the small floppy comic books to include what is now considered graphic novels. A huge step in the literary evolution of acceptable reading materials. In my opinion, this is a step forward not a step backward. As we watch the printed word disappear from daily newspapers, where comic strips were once "the thing" for a kid to look at in Saturday's paper, it is encouraging to see that a new form of "the written word" has taken hold. Comic books and graphic novels have their place in literature. Anything and everything can benefit an individual in their quest to read should be encouraged and not dismissed.

Arthrology in "Incognito"

2010-03-01T22:52:00.002-05:00

Incognito Iss. 1
Ed Brubaker (writer)

Sean Phillips (penciller)

Val Staples (inker)

Icon [Marvel Comics]

"Incognito" is the story of Zack Overkill, a superhuman criminal who confessed against his employers to get accepted into the witness protection program. He is safe so long as he stays "incognito", but his boredom with ordinary life leads him to try to get his powers back. Needless to say, his cover is blown shortly thereafter. This sets up the plot of a very interesting and morally gray superhero story centered around self-discovery, rather than abstract ideas of right and wrong.

The first issue establishes Zack's dissatisfaction with his everyday life as an office clerk in the witness protection program. The main plot of the issue follows Zack's movement from one rebellious act on a Christmas party (he has sex with one of his co-workers) to his renewed adoption of a super-persona. This plot is mirrored as a subtle arthrological "narration" in some recurring vertically-oriented panels on the left page of a few two-page spreads in the issue. I believe that, if they are taken alone, the progression from the first of these panels to the last mirrors the general plot of the issue.

The first vertical panel on page 6 shows Zack right after having sex with his co-worker, thus breaking the rules of his workplace. The perspective is from the top of the city--as a superhero might view the city--and it is only until the next panel that this perspective makes sense: Zack is standing on the roof of his building. This panel, therefore, foreshadows the implications of his first transgressive act. On page 10, the second vertically oriented panel occupies the same space in the two-page spread as the one on page six. This panel offers a view of the city from the street-level: Zack has just been reminded that he is just an ordinary person now, and the panel reflects the deflation of the hopes he had in page 6. On page 14, the next vertical panel--in the same place and of the same size as the previous two--depicts Zack standing over a ruin of a recent fight between supermutants. Although it is white-washed by the media, the truth behind the event is clear as day to Zack, who then meditates on the way he will use to regain his powers. The last vertically-oriented panel on page 18 (the appropriate page according to the pattern every four pages) is not as long as the others, making it stand out. It also stands out because this is the first panel when Zack Overkill appears in his new costume. The mini-plot of the vertical panels is complete: Zack proceeds from great hopes to a sharp emotional deflation, then to an assessment of the activity of superhumans in his universe, to his new resolve to assume his place among those superhumans again.

The arthrology of these vertical panels on pages 6, 10, 14 and 18 constructs a compendious version of this issue's plot. This means that in addition to the ordinary ways in which arthrology constructs a text, in this particular issue it allows for panels that form part of both the larger text of the comic as a whole and a four-panel "mini-text" that summarizes the plot.

Deni Kasa

What else happens over 28 Days

2010-02-08T18:02:00.009-05:00

28 Days Later
Writer: Michael Alan Nelson
Artist: Declan Shalvey
Colourist: Nick Filardi
Letter: Ed Dukeshire
Released by BOOM! Studios

It is almost impossible to imagine an age not so long ago that was free of teen vampires and choked to the teeth with flesh thirsty living-dead. A time when the zombie was king and it was impossible not to take notice of remake after remake of classic horror films brought back to satisfy the public’s thirst for blood. Arguably the best of the era was Academy Award Winning Director Danny Boyle’s 2002 offering 28 Days Later. Critically and commercially successful, the film has inspired a sequel and a threequel (?) in the works. Such a startling and violent franchise seemed a perfect project for Irish artist Declan Shalvey, best known for Hero Killers which earned him an Eagle Award in 2007. Boom! Studios, the company responsible for the project is not new to the theme: it’s first release was Zombie Tales #1 in June 2005. Although not its focus, Boom! has produced several film-franchise adaptations including Disney titles Cars and Uncle Scrooge.

The series is focused on Selena, a bandana’d young Brit with a long blade and a short temper. Her super-human slice speed makes short work of any and all would-be infectors. After spending the better part of the month, post outbreak, in a Norwegian refugee camp, she has joined a group of Americans lead by a hot-shot journalist who need her expertise of ‘ground zero’, London. His goal: get behind quarantined lines and get to the bottom of what is believed to be a government cover-up, the story of a career. The artists want to bridge the gaps between the original film and its sequel, 28 Weeks Later.

The art contains many elements of classic horror blood-spatter and Shalvey uses a dark colour palette to convey tone of the comic. A world where so few survivors are given the task to continue subsistence against slim odds calls for the muted grey skies being depicted. Moreover, by making the gutters black, the already bleak world they have created through dialogue becomes consumed with gloom. While reading 28 Days Later, the fear inside the characters comes out by the way they are depicted –often with their heads down or wide-eyed, awaiting inevitable attack. Selena is often drawn in profile because she is always moving forward and trying to prepare herself and her group for another encounter. Likewise, Trina, an older, pig-faced woman who refuses to trust Selena is always seated, afraid to get in anyone’s way. The creators also play with the speech balloon; yelling is not always conveyed by the traditional bold lettering, but by surrounding the balloon in thick, red lines (Figure 1). Because we are familiar with what colours ‘mean’ in art, the audience knows that these screams are filled with fear and immediacy.

Comics have this unique way of story-telling through several layers of information that is processed by Multi-modality. “Comics,” to quote Dale Jacobs “provide a complex environment for the negotiation of meaning” which includes everything from colour to page layout. Although the gutters are dark, they still separate panels, and force the reader to make judgments as to both time-lapse and movement that is not expressed in the panels themselves. For example, on page 8 the conversation between Clint and Trina uses alternating panels, each depicting the two characters speaking back and forth (Figure 2). The last panel of the page, however, shows a consoling arm on Trina’s shoulder but no corresponding face to show exactly whose are it is. Through reading comics, one can easily assume the arm belongs to Clint because of a developed sense of Coherence: being able to anticipate and interpret what is happening within the margins of the page. Coherence also allows shadows in one panel to represent the murderous zombies that were running towards the protagonists in the panel preceding it.

Our understanding is not limited to the way colour or characters are used, but in the way the comics page is laid out. The panels are nearly all page-width, what would be called wide-angled in film. This style of panel sets the focus on the chaotic world he has created. Using smaller panels or close-ups focus on the individual and are used throughout the book when only one character is speaking or doing something particularly important to plot advancement. Scott McCloud, in Chapter 1 of his Making Comics, calls the creator’s choice between using different distances and angles ‘Choice of Frame’, which plays a role in creating a clear, convincing story. Combined with coherence, Choice of Flow by the creator to try and guide audience “through and between panels” in a way that he or she means the story to be read. It is impossible to predict exactly how each individual reader will go through the page because our eyes are often drawn to the center or the largest thing on the page instead of the top left hand corner where the first panel is almost always situated. Having distinct panels that are separate from one another and flow left to right or top to bottom is the most common way to achieve clear flow.

Common to the medium is the use of onomatopoetic words and corresponding text. Those familiar with the campy television Batman know that a punch makes the sound ‘whack’ or ‘smack’. After the explosion of several Molotov cocktails, the o’s in ‘WHOOSH!’ are much larger than the other letters, signaling their precedence. Also, the word is in yellow, a stark contrast to the dark environment around it. In the next panel, a mess of fire and flailing bodies, the yellows and bright reds hearken back to the large yellow lettering of ‘WHOOSH!’ that came before.

The $3.99 price-tag is justified because the narrative isn’t slowed down by any ads or artist essays. The 28 Days Later series is a great addition to the franchise not only because it avoids retelling a story fans of the films already know, but it is quick paced and is incredibly gory.

-Justin Quenneville

Comic Book Covers and Paratextuality

2010-02-02T11:30:00.005-05:00

Next week in the Graphic Novels seminar, we will be discussing Gerard Genette's idea of paratexts, those elements that surround the narrative text itself. He writes that, "the paratext is what enables a text to become a book and to be offered as such to its readers and, more generally, to the public. More than a boundary or sealed border, the paratext is, rather, a threshold, or -- a word Borges used apropros of a preface -- a 'vestibule' that offers the world at large the possibility of either stepping inside or turning back" (Paratexts: Thresholds of Interpretation 1-2). Prefaces, introductions, publisher's information, author's names, and titles are just some of the paratextual elements that can contain and act as thresholds to comics narratives.

Of course, the cover, with all of its individual paratextual elements, also acts as a paratext itself, quite literally a threshold for potential readers as they decide whether to step inside or turn back. With this in mind, I want to draw your attention to a new series at Newsarama called "Cover Story" that involves interviews with creators about comic book covers. The first interview is an insightful talk with Gabriel Ba about the cover of Daytripper #3 (a very interesting new book that's well worth a look). Here's a snip of what Ba has to say:

"This issue tells a very heavy story of loss, and that's what I wanted on the cover. Opposed to the two first ones that are very happy and full of colors, because we were still dealing with a word full of possibilities, this cover needed something different. The colors are more intense, stronger, and the images are darker."

It's a useful interview to read and to think about in terms of the idea of paratextuality. I'm looking forward to more of these kinds of interviews as part of the "Cover Story" feature.

Inking and Comics University

2010-02-02T10:57:00.005-05:00

There's a good post on the process of inking right now over at Comics University. In it, Jonas Diego, the inker, explains how he works and how inking fits into the creative process of putting together Lola: A Ghost Story. Here's a sample of what Diego has to say:

"With Elbert’s pencils I don’t go immediately to inks.

I spend some time figuring out the intent for a particular page via a script I was provided with. After that I spend some time with a blue Prismacolor pencil adding elements which I feel will help in the storytelling, setting up shadows to help create the mood and ambiance the scene needs, and correct some details in the art.

It is only after accomplishing this that I start inking over the blue lines."

Too often, I think we overlook the contributions of inkers, letterers, and colorists to the process of creating a narrative in comic form. Posts like this one are a good reminder of these kinds of important collaborations.

Resuscitating a Beloved Hero in the Comics Medium: Robocop's Return

2010-01-30T17:31:00.007-05:00

Robocop: Issue 1
Written by: Rob Williams
Illustrated by: Fabiano Neves
Coloured by: Diogo Nascimento
Lettered by: Simon Bowland

Reviving a character who has been absent from comics for a lengthy period of time can be tricky, especially if the character made his first appearance in another medium. Yet sometimes the unfolding events of the late 2000s and early 2010s call for a certain character to be brought back to address current social and political situations, and transpose them to the world the beloved character occupies. Dynamite Comics strives to do precisely that, as writer Rob Williams (2000AD, Star Wars) brings Robocop back to the decaying wasteland of Old Detroit (becoming more akin to the Detroit of present day) and clean out the crime-infested streets.

The aim of the series, as stated in the Dynamite press release, is to "continue to explore more of the dangers of Detroit, its citizens, and Officer Murphy's [Robocops] continued dealings with the scum that stalks the streets — all the while missing his human side" (http://io9.com/5287423/robocops-comic-return-will-be-soon-violent). Given the economic calamities of the United States, and Detroit being considered the most embattled city in the present recession, what series would be more fitting to revisit than one based on a film highly satirical towards corporate greed, and set in America's unemployment capital? When examining this question, the reasons for reviving Robocop are justified. Next, one must ask how well writer Rob Williams manages to respect the 1987 film while successfully updating the story for modern times in a different medium.

Being based on a highly beloved film provides for much intertextuality within Robocop, and as a result, fans will be able to spot visual cues connecting Robocop the film to Robocop the comic series. The television parodies of frivolous game shows, and the satirical take on info-tainment news are present, pointing to the tone of its source material, while updating it for today's times. The debauched TV-show host who would exclaim "I'd buy that for a dollar" in the film returns in the comic, yet this time he is able to touch on Detroit's dire economic stance, saying "I'd buy that for a dollar! If I still had a dollar that is." Similarly, just as the film opens with an assault on the senses newsreport, the comic does so as well, making a connection between the storytelling form found in the original source and the adaptation.

Though being as true to the spirit of its source as possible, Williams embellishes the possibilities the comics format provides for his storytelling, making it explicitly clear that Robocop will have the look and feel of a comic book. In a comic book, the writer and artists have no control over how the reader will intake the story, and the next sequential image will not be the first the reader looks at. Illustrator Fabiano Neves expresses his awareness of this conundrum, and simply accepts it, when he places a dynamic image featuring a worm's-eye shot of the comic's protagonist holding a rocket launcher and looking menacing as the very last panel in the first issue. While other important information regarding the progression of the story is contained in the previous panels, such an image is too striking for the eye to ignore, causing the narrative flow to break from cohesion, since the last panel is to alluring for the eye to miss. Such a skip in narrative cannot be accomplished when watching a film. Williams and Neves accept this, and using the striking final panel to signal the end of part one, hoping to create strong anticipation for the next issue when it arrives.

Williams and Neves also call attention to the comics form through their use of onomatopoeia to replicate sound, and the colour palette. The second last panel contains an explosion with the word '"BOOM" in big bold red lettering. The onomatopoeia emphasizes the size and force of the explosion, while the red bubbled lettering allows Williams and Neves to utilize the methods available in comics storytelling to express their story. The colour palette also brings attention to the comics form, as the clear-line style colourer Diogo Nascimento and letterer Simon Bowland use harkens to the classic superhero style attributed to Jack Kirby, albeit in a more modern style.

In the ways mentioned above, the creative team responsible for Robocop were successful in adapting a beloved character from the 1980s and placing him into the 2010s. Yet, to say the Robocop comic is on par with Paul Verhoeven's film would be false. One of the adaptations biggest detriments is the sometimes corny dialogue Williams provides. A line like "Suck on Uncle Sam's fat one!" may be funny in a film, if an actor were to give proper vocal inflection. However, on paper in a voice-bubble, the line comes across as being juvenile. Throughout much of Robocop volume 1, Williams tries to recreate some of the humourous dialogue from the film, but with the absence of competent actors, the words in the voice-bubbles seem cheesy and contrived.

Thankfully, Williams' dialogue is merely a minor distraction, and for the most part, the creators were successful in bringing Robocop back within the comic medium. Hopefully, they will expand upon what has been established within issue one, and correct their sidesteps along the way.

J. Kyle LeBel
January 30, 2010

Coming Soon: Guest Bloggers from the Contemporary Graphic Novels Seminar

2010-01-15T11:14:00.004-05:00

Over the next several months, the members of my Contemporary Graphic Novels seminar will be on board as guest bloggers on More Than Words. Each of them has to read a monthly comic book for the duration of the class and then post 2 entries on that comic. In addition, each of them will be blogging on one book from the Leddy Library collection of graphic novels (a collection you should definitely check out if you are in Windsor). If you were reading the blog when last year's class guestblogged, you know that the next few months will feature some lively and engaging writing about comics. I'm looking forward to reading their posts and seeing the range of texts they have chosen.

Teaming Up for Literacy: Spider-Man and The Electric Company

2010-01-12T10:56:00.013-05:00

Right now I’m working on some more material related to the idea of multimodal literacy sponsorship. I’m particularly interested in the multiple ways that comics have sponsored multimodal literacy throughout their history. From the critical literacy that the EC horror titles sponsored in the 1950s through their continual re-examinations of contemporary society, to the educational comics that were published in response and that sponsored a more conventional literacy that aligned with the contemporary educational practices and social values. From the religious comics published by Oral Roberts in the 1950s and Spire in the 1970s and the ways multimodal literacy was used to promote Christianity, to the rise of Marvel Comics in the 1960s and the creation of a specific multimodal discourse community centered around the Marvel narrative continuity. I’m interested in the ways in which literacy sponsorship happens outside schools and the complex webs that these multiple sponsors of multimodal literacies create. But I’m also interested in the ways that multimodal literacy sponsorship happens in conjunction with educational programs. Hence my interest in the 1970s partnership between the Children’s Television Workshop (CTW) and Marvel Comics that brought Spider-Man to The Electric Company and The Electric Company to Spidey Super Stories.

The Electric Company, a show produced by the non-profit Children’s Television Workshop (CTW) aimed at teaching reading through the use of television, debuted in 1971. The target audience for the show was poor readers, 7-10 years old, who had, as The Electric Company Final Report put it, “already tasted failure in school reading programs and for whom television could provide a non-threatening and familiar alternative to the classroom experience” (6). In other words, the aim was to use a multimodal medium (i.e. one in which viewers not only made meaning through the linguistic mode, but also through the audio, visual, gestural, and spatial modes) in order to promote linguistic (or print) literacy which students would then presumably be able to transfer to the books they would encounter in school and other settings.

As the show was being aired, researchers connected with CTW pushed for more inclusion of opportunities for sustained reading so that viewers would engage with print that was longer than a single sentence and that was embedded in a narrative. One of the ways that the producers decided to introduce such sequences was through the use of Spider-Man, a character with whom viewers would be familiar. The idea was that in these live-action narrative sequences, Spider-Man would never speak. Rather, his speeches would appear in word balloons above his head, drawing on a familiar convention from comic books in order to promote reading as a way for viewers to follow the simple narratives.

Beginning with Spider-Man’s debut on The Electric Company in 1974, a partnership ensued between Marvel Comics and CTW based around short self-contained narratives that appeared on both the television show and in Spidey Super Stories, a comic introduced by Marvel in the fall of 1974. According to The Electric Company Final Report, the use of Spider-Man in The Electric Company

provided considerable motivation to read and became extremely popular with viewers. Capitalizing on the popularity of these segments, a special Electric Company “Spidey” comic was designed for newsstand distribution as a way of providing additional reading matter of a controlled kind. This comic looked much like any other, but had carefully placed print, short messages, controlled vocabulary and was designed to encourage the poor reader to read rather than to merely rely on pictures. (66)

Though the two groups had different reasons for this cooperation, the partnership clearly benefitted both CTW and Marvel Comics as they reached out to their target audience of poor readers, 7-10 years of age.

In other words, both Marvel and CTW, can be seen as sponsors of literacy, a concept I take from Deborah Brandt. In her article entitled “Sponsors of Literacy,” Brandt defines literacy sponsors in this way: “Sponsors, as I have come to think of them, are any agents, local or distant, concrete or abstract, who enable, support, teach, model, as well as recruit, regulate, suppress, or withhold literacy – and gain advantage by it in some way” (166). Though their reasons differ (as one is a non-profit educational group and the other is a for-profit comic book publisher), both Marvel and CTW sponsor literacy and their cross-media partnership is an excellent example of the ways in which content can be linked across media even at the earliest stages of literacy development.

So, what I’m doing right now is examining this partnership, the ways in which the two groups used their partnership to sponsor both print and multimodal literacies for their target audience, and the benefits each derived from such sponsorship of literacy. I’m having a lot of fun hanging out with Easy Reader, J. Arthur Crank, and Spider-Man, and thinking through how this complex web of multimodal literacy sponsorship happened.

David Finch Signs Exclusive With DC

2010-01-11T21:04:00.004-05:00

I don't normally announce industry happenings on this blog, but I wanted to take this opportunity to mention that Newsarama is reporting that Windsor's own David Finch has just signed an exclusive with DC Comics. Not only is Finch an incredibly talented artist, but he has been very generous in giving his time to talk about comics in various settings around Windsor, including on programs like The Comic Book Syndicate and at BookFest Windsor 2009. At the end of the BookFest session he did with fellow Windsor comics creator Tony Gray, Finch was presented with the Schuster Award for the Most Outstanding Canadian Artist of 2008. I was pleased to see him recognized for his work.

I've heard Finch speak a couple of times about his artistic processes and about collaborating with different writers within the confines of working for one of the big companies. Those talks are always informative and I really do appreciate the time that he takes to give some insight into what goes into putting together a commercial comic book. So, here's a big congratulations going out to David Finch. I, for one, am hoping we get to see what he will do with Batman.

New Narrative Conference, Toronto, May 6-7, 2010

2010-01-11T20:55:00.004-05:00

Just before the Toronto Comic Arts Festival (May 8-9, 2010), an academic comics conference is being held at the University of Toronto. Both TCAF and the New Narrative conference are great events if you're serious about comics.

Here is the call for papers:

3rd annual New Narrative conference:
Narrative arts and visual media
An interdisciplinary conference at the University of Toronto
6 – 7 May 2010

In keeping with the spirit of sequels, we are again soliciting papers on a wide range of graphic novels, comic art, and related visual media. Comics, whether in the form of novelistic illustrations, newspaper serials, animated films, film adaptations, graphic novels, or sequential art narratives, have been with us since the rise of literature itself, yet until recently such media have never been considered “serious”—or at least, serious enough to be considered novels that might be on university syllabi. But are illustrated novels and live action films really about the pictures and not the narrative? How can the history of the form be reconciled with consumer culture and the ill-defined categories of “high” and “low” culture?

Papers which examine and interpret these narratives in interdisciplinary forms are most welcome. Essays on novelistic illustrations, newspaper serials, animated films, film adaptations, graphic novels, or sequential art narratives may consider the following (incomplete) list:

graphic novels and auto/biography illustrated and multi-media works
web design and on-line comix film adaptations of comics
series; engravings and caricatures the Comics Code Authority
the “invention” of manga geopolitics/war and the graphic novel
bande desinée & European comix early comics & comic history
illustrations in (literary) novels woodcut and “silent” artists

Proposals should be 400-500 words and must clearly indicate significance, the line of argument, principal texts considered, and relation to existing scholarship (or originality). One email copy of the proposal, and a 50 word bio note must be included, as an attachment in MS Word.

Deadline for proposals is 31 March 2010 (responses by 08 April 2010)

Jeff Parker, Assistant Professor, and/or Dr Andrew Lesk
Department of English, University of Toronto
E-mail: andrew.lesk@utoronto.ca

See also http://andrewlesk.com/conferences.html

This Conference will take place just before the Toronto Comics Arts Festival on May 8 and 9. (See Torontocomics.com)

Breaking Radio Silence: What's Been Up With Research and Teaching

2009-10-17T17:06:00.004-04:00

It's been a great while since I've posted to this blog, but I'm back and hope to be consistently posting once again. I did manage to get a lot of comics-related work done this summer, both on the Marvel 1976 project and on an essay called "More at Stake: Vampires and the Comics Code." That work and the current work I'm doing on The Electric Company and their partnership with Marvel in the 1970s (remember Spidey Super Stories? Spider-Man's recurring appearances on the television show?) really seem to be swirling around the same ideas regarding multimodal literacy that I've been developing over the last several years. So, over the last few months, the larger project has been becoming more coherently articulated in my head and that's been very exciting. I'll try to spin out some of these ideas and the relationships I see between them over the next few months.

The other pressing issue right now is book orders for next semester's Contemporary Graphic Novels seminar. Here's my mostly finalized list (in no particular order). Any comments would be much appreciated.

Fell: Feral City (Ellis/Templesmith)
Batman: Year One (Miller/Mazzucchelli)
DMZ: On the Ground (Wood/Burchielli)
Fables: Legends in Exile (Willingham/Medina)
Swallow Me Whole (Powell)
The Amazing Remarkable Monsieur Leotard (Campbell/Best)
The Sandman: The Dream Hunters (Gaiman/Russell)
Exit Wounds (Modan)
Nat Turner (Baker)

There you have it. I'll likely be having the students in the seminar blogging here about graphic novels in the collection at UW's Leddy Library, so stay tuned for that beginning in January. And I promise not to take six months between posts again. No, really.

Marvel 1976 Project

2009-05-04T10:12:00.008-04:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I am just beginning work on a book-length project that uses Marvel comics circa 1976 as its frame. The natural question, of course, is why this focus? Why 1976? Why Marvel? Why not DC 1985 or Charlton 1968? Or why not Marvel in the 1960s?

Let me explain. In March we taped an episode The Comic Book Syndicate on which I was a guest panelist (the episode will premiere on Wednesday, May 6 at Phog Lounge and will soon be on Cogeco in Windsor). As one segment, Michael Poirier asked us each to talk about the first comic we remember reading. It wasn't one specific comic that came to mind, but a storyline in Marvel Team-Up that involved Spider-Man and the Scarlet Witch traveling back in time to the Salem Witch Trials.The storyline, which featured Cotton Mather as one of the villains, played out over several issues, pulling my ten-year old self into the narrative in ways I had never experienced before in my casual reading of Spider-Man, Batman, or Archie.

That story arc led me to explore the rest of the Marvel universe, or at least the small corner of it that I could afford and that was available to me at the local drugstore. It led me to, among other things, the first issue of Nova, The Fantastic Four, Captain America, The Amazing Spider-Man, and the first issue of Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man. In other words, 1976 was the real beginning of my real interest in comics and the point at which Marvel became an important sponsor of my multimodal literacy, an idea about which I've written in "Marveling at The Man Called Nova: Comics as Sponsors of Multimodal Literacy" (College Composition and Communication 59.2, December 2007). As I thought about those issues of Marvel Team-Up and the other Marvel comics I consumed that year, it dawned on me that by focusing on Marvel comics in 1976, I could productively expand on the ideas I had begun to develop in "Marveling." The frame would allow me to discuss not only multimodal literacy, but related issues such as continuity, materiality, paratextuality, and intertextuality, and the ways in which the literacies I was developing by reading Marvel comics were intimately connected with the literacies I was developing through other sponsors of literacy in my life.

For example, in reading those issues of Marvel Team-Up, not only was I fascinated by the superheroes and their predicaments, I became so curious about Salem, the Witch Trials, and Cotton Mather that I went to the school library to find out more. For the first time history mattered to me as a ten-year old boy in rural Alberta and so, at a very rudimentary level, I began to explore it.

And, of course, the comics drew me into the world of the American bicentennial, leading me to wonder about what that all meant. What were they celebrating? Why? In essence, though I couldn't have named it at the time, I was beginning to ask questions about national identity and about my identity as a Canadian (read not-American). Hard stuff for a kid, but comics made me begin to grapple with these issues and have conversations with my friends about them.

So, why Marvel and why 1976? Short answer: because it helps me to situate my thinking about a variety of questions regarding literacy and comics. That said, I'm planning to read everything Marvel produced that year (I realized the cover date is a couple of months later than when it came out, but using a 1976 cover date simplifies the frame). That's a lot of comics -- just over 500. I'll be tracking them down in multiple forms (back issues, Essential editions, Marvel digital database, Michigan State) and thinking about the experience of reading those multiple formats will form part of the project as well.

Wish me luck as I go back in time and visit my ten-year old self. It should be interesting.

Contemporary Graphic Novel Seminar: Over Now, But Back Next Yeat

2009-04-22T09:28:00.005-04:00

Here we are at the end of another semester. I want to thank all of the members of my Contemporary Graphic Novel Seminar for all of their great contributions to the blog over the last several months. It proved to be a fascinating class and I'm pleased that readers got to see just a bit of the complex thinking about comics that students did. Again, thanks to all who contributed, both in class and on the blog. And thanks as well to Jeff Lemire for his productive visit to class and for his wonderful reading. It was a great semester.

A lot of the students who are currently in their 3rd year at UW have asked me if I'm going to be teaching this course next year, so I am happy to announce that I will be teaching the Contemporary Graphic Novel Seminar in the Winter 2010 semester. I'm looking forward to more great conversations about comics and comics theory; readers can look forward to a whole new set of guest bloggers for More Than Words.

In the meantime, I'll be back with my regular musings about comics, theory, literacy, and education. As I do so, I plan to use the blog to do some thinking about a larger research project that involves Marvel 1976. More on that in the next couple of days.

Loss of Innocence, The Gain of Black

2009-04-17T19:56:00.002-04:00

The Three Musketeers, The Illiad, The Wizard of Oz and The Picture of Dorian Gray: what do all these classic novels have in common? It may or may not surprise you, but Marvel has constructed all of these famous pieces of literature into the graphic novel form. The fact that such books are becoming part of the comic book realm signifies how the graphic novel has gained respect and credibility over the past several years. The transformation of these books out of their original form is definitely something to think about—comic books may tell the same story but they convey meaning differently, which completely alters how readers interact and interpret the text. After all, if comic books told the story the same way as a book with mere text, why would anyone consider altering its medium?

The basic plot line consists of an artist named Basil Hallward who paints a picture of the innocent, Dorian Gray and finishes it just as he introduces Dorian to Lord Harry. Hallward quickly regrets introducing the men to one another as Lord Harry puts ideas into Dorian’s head of how tragic it is that he will continue to grow old but his painting will forever be beautiful. Through a plea, Dorian unknowingly gives up his soul to reverse the process in which his body will always remain beautiful and youthful while the picture will age. Ultimately, with no soul, Dorian increasingly loses his innocence into a state of pure evilness committing several terrible acts no one ever thought he would be capable of. As he changes emotionally and spiritually, the picture changes physically becoming more horrific and disturbing with the amount of immoral acts that he commits.

After familiarizing myself with comic book theory and applying it to The Picture of Dorian Gray, I found it interesting how visuals and words worked together in a multimodal fashion to convey the themes, motifs and symbols. Several themes are depicted throughout the relationship between text and images, such as realism and romance as conveyed in art, the dichotomy of young and old and the loss of innocence. For the purpose of this blog, I will focus primarily on the last theme.

While the original novel evokes the theme of innocence with its depiction of the colour white, the colour black is incorporated in the graphic novel to symbolize Dorian’s growing corruption and loss of morality. The panels are always painted black but as the novel progresses and Dorian Gray becomes increasingly sinful, these dark panels become thicker, intensifying the dreary mood. This technique evokes Groensteen’s theories on the panel from "System of Comics." In this piece, he argues that the mere existence of panels in comic books makes them loaded with meaning and they can never be neutral even if they are white. Therefore, the dark mood and feeling of uneasiness that these panels establish correlate to the overall theme of The Picture of Dorian Gray.

It is interesting to note as well that while Sybil is typically dressed in light, pastel colours, right as she tells Dorian that she wants to give up her acting, there is a shadow over her dress that makes it look like she is literally dressed in black. In addition, in the midst of Dorian ending their relationship, Sybil leans over him to kiss his hand in which her entire face is blocked out as a black silhouette. Her change of dress and blackened face may be seen as a foreshadowing for Dorian’s change. This scene with Sybil is the first selfish and cruel act that he commits which signifies the initial step to his losing of innocence. Her blackness as an innocent character reminds the reader that all people are capable of losing their sense of purity and all humans have the potential to commit immoral acts (just like Dorian Gray).

The relationship between the text and images of Dorian in this scene also reveals the growing loss of his innocence as a young man. Originally, his body language presented him to have a delicate nature as a gentleman when he shook hands warmly and made eye contact when he greeted other characters. However, in this scene when ending the relationship with Sybil, his body language evokes a sense of coldness and distance, which correlates to his unkind and insensitive words. He tells Sybil, “You have killed my love” when he looks carelessly to the ground as she stands over him. He repeats this phrase more abrasively by shrugging her off, glaring with an angry face. Again, with the final panel before he leaves her, there is a dark shadow over his face as he states, “What are you now [without your art]? A third-rate actress with a pretty face.”

Marvel’s The Picture of Dorian Gray shows how the comic book medium can evoke major themes from the classic text through its multimodal nature. The relationship between text and images helps extrapolate various themes often through complex and sophisticated modes. For some reason, visuals in literature have been discredited while words are placed at an utmost importance. However, visuals can be just as stimulating and evoke imagination in different ways than text does alone (as we have seen in this novel). Since the “picture” of Dorian Gray is a loaded, iconic symbol, it seems only appropriate that The Picture of Dorian Gray should be captured into the form of a comic book.

Black Hole -- Charles Burns

2009-04-13T23:33:00.001-04:00

The story is set in the 1970’s at a highschool in Seattle. The main character/couple in the graphic novel are ‘Keith’ and ‘Chris’ (female character). This ‘Black Hole’ graphic novel allows readers to take a giant step back into time and possibly remember or create the highschool never and worries of fitting in. Charles Burns wrote this graphic novel to raise awareness of STDs and AIDS, because this subject was not spoken of and also not educated
This comic in particular is very important in my opinion to the education of young teenagers who are sexually active or beginning to engage in sexual activity. Charles Burns raises awareness about sexually transmitted disease. This telling tale is strictly fictional, plot wise but the dangers of unprotected sex are very real. The strange plague preys on teenagers through sexual content is a clever way to educate and provide a scare tactic for parents. The importance of text and visual in this piece is understanding that the teens are not aware of what the plague is or how exactly it is transmitted. They have an idea but I don’t think they realize the seriousness of this issue because it is not talked about. I believe that the relationship between the text and its morals plus the images gave a multimodal meaning to this graphic novel. For example, when Chris gets out of the water and we get a visual image on the entire page that is only the back of her naked body. She has the ‘plague’ and it is ripping her skin apart starting from the spine. All of this teenagers see this and are dumbfounded but know to stay away from her. This is a multimodal approach to Charles Burns graphic novel. Black Hole describes a dark passage of time where we cannot see what it is that is infecting us because we refuse to acknowledge it. Burns bring this to our attention many times and in many different ways. From the woman who has a tail to main character, Chris who has a fear of holes and openings… hence his plagued body that consists of a hole in the center of his neck.
I took out the graphic novel ‘Black Hole’ by Charles Burns from the Leddy library. I was mesmerized by the use black and white images that concentrated on black bold visuals to convey a dark truth.
Comics are useful in education because of the theory multi-modality where words, images and gestures are put together to make meaning. This is very useful for those who are not literate in English or any other language for that matter that is translated or written in a different language for comics. Have you noticed that
I believe that by Burns delivering these important messages for safe sex he is using forms of reflexivity. From Jones article regards author’s reflexive voice, it is clear, to myself that the ‘Black Hole’s’ narrator/ character… Keith is a representation and form of reflexivity—authorial awareness using Keith’s character to come through the text and be able to go through the discovery of illness, sex and character.

CROSSED -- Garth Ennis & Jacen Burrows

2009-04-13T23:00:00.001-04:00

I went down to Rogues Gallery in search of a comic. I told the very friendly and helpful young man that I was looking for something that I was going to be excited about reading... something twisted... wrong... sexy... hellish... raunchy... gross, perhaps?... and so the 'very friendly and helpful young man' asked me how I felt about zombies... I love zombies and so, there it was ... he suggested and later presented me with the "Crossed" comic series from Garth Ennis and Jacen Burrows.
I was not aware of Garth Ennis' twisted reputation for comic book writing. I flipped through the comic and there was alot of blood, alot of gore and alot more disturbing images... that I am guessing I asked for. This comic definitely grasped my attention and left a lot of lines on my forehead. Garth Ennis uses many different types of panels—but one in particular is his two page spread that has to be the most disturbing and questionable form of art. While the zombies are ripping apart the young daughter, they proceed to use crude (anal, masturbation) sexual content that by far is the most moving spread from the entire comic. In fact… when I think of ‘Crossed’, I think of that sexually gory detailed two page spread.
This comic is used for complete sick pleasure. I would definitely recommend it to those who crave an ‘eye opener/jaw dropped’ but it is not suitable for young children in the least and I’ve heard that some adults have a hard time taking in these images.
I read ‘Crossed’ a couple of times and I did not cover any panels as I read. I simply read it word for word and image by image. I really felt the author’s authorial awareness /reflexive voice come to life. In Jones article, he talks about how the authors foreground the narrating voice and speak through characters. But I don’t think that the text is something that Garth Ennis was shining through, rather the images and shocking ideas. When people at the comic book store saw ME buying Garth Ennis comics they had huge grins and eyes. I didn’t get what the big deal was… but later I found out that Garth Ennis’ sick imagery comes to life in the zombies’ character. The zombies speak for the sick world that takes over Garth’s mind and leads him to create such twisted graphics for comics. So apparently Garth Ennis has a 'reputation' for raunch.

Adapting a Classic: Marvel Illustrated tackles Treasure Island!

2009-04-12T21:17:00.012-04:00

Marvell Illustrated has adapted many classic literary work such as Dumas' The Man in the Iron Mask (April 2008), Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans (April 2008), Wilde's The Picture of Doria n Grey (September 2008), Homer's The Illiad (November 2008), Melville's Moby Dick (October 2008) and Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island (April 2008).

Writer Roy Thomas, admits that his first interaction with the story was through film; the 1950's Disney version featuring Robert Newton as Long John Silver and Bobby Driscoll as young, Jim Hawkins. The reader can see the film's influence in comparing the graphic novel cover and the film cover from the movie. The characters of Long John Silver and Jim Hawkins were drawn to look very similar to the actors from this version of the film and even echo each other in a this screen caption.

The film influence can also been see in the choice of panels throughout the novel. Like in film, when a particular event is supposed to cause tension in the audience the frames are long, rectangular panels that show the eyes of a scared Jim Hawkins and the events that surround him.

Personally, I believe it is a perfect story for the comics medium based generally on the content and audience that is the same in the cases of The Illiad, The Man in the Iron Mask, Moby Dick and The Last of the Mohicans. Treasure Island is essentially "a boys' adventure novel--or an adventure novel period" says Thomas (Thomas, i). Like some of the great superhero comics, it has an "intriguing, and richly-described setting... well-drawn and fascinating characters... and a story that just won't quit" (i). The villain, Long Joh Silver, is if not more so, than just as terrifying as Lex Luthor any day with young, bright-eyed boy characters who strive for justice.

Thomas claims that the challenges of adaptation included "paring down its approximately 250 pages to the 132 pages of a graphic novel, to be published first in six equal-size installments" (ii). He also references the problem with stories that have been adapted many times over: "the most quoted lines from the novel are usually misquoted" (ii). The name Billy Bones, used in all the movies and the television shows, never appears in the original work because the character is referred to as Bill Bones (ii). Also the line "fifteen men on a dead man's chest" is actually supposed to say "the dead man's chest" (ii).

Thomas even admits to making a mistake in the costuming that they didn't get away with: "An English-born friend informed me later, men's ties didn't really come along till a few decades later" (i). He also reveals that by reading the novel again, he realized that "Long John Silver...is a [much] more three-dimensional, fascinating personage than [he] had remembered from either the film or the novel. He is the focal point of the story the thing on which one's pleasure in it rises and falls" (ii). This could explain the first page and last pages of the graphic novel that show the larger, main image of Long John Silver with a smaller picture of Jim Hawkins at the bottom-left or upper-right corner. Also the cover design emphasized Long John Silver over Jim, as well as in the multiple versions featured in the last pages of the graphic novel.

Thomas says that "the editors as well as the artists and I tried to make certain we used the right kinds of guns and ships and scenery, as far as possible" ( i). He hopes that the graphic novel version of the story will give fans "an excuse to read [it] again" and to create fans out of other comics readers. Lastly, he describes the problem with adapting this particular novel, over others, was the entire narration spoken by the character, Jim Hawkins (ii). There was the temptation, says Thomas, to leave out the narration but "Jim's captions are dialogue, in their way, nearly as much as are the conversations between him and Silver" (ii). While Thomas credits the movie as influencing the graphic adaptation, he lastly states that "[Jim's] narration gives the novel its point of view. A graphic novel adaptation should, I think, be more than just a movie on paper" (ii).

Art Spiegelman's Maus

2009-04-10T12:23:00.004-04:00

When I first heard about Maus I thought it would be another clichéd survival of the holocaust story. I had no intentions of reading it. However, I saw it in Leddy and decided to give it a look. I was pleasantly shocked. The style of the story (both comic and with the people of different races and groups portrayed as different animals) “succeeds perfectly” as Umber Eco writes, “in shocking us out of any lingering sense of familiarity with the events described.” Defamiliarization, in this case, acts to make the story more real and accessible. In the slew of survival tales out there this one stands out because of its form and style; a style which shows the war as varying shades of grey not the black and white of good and evil. Friends and families, in this narrative, sell their friends out in order to live another day. Spiegelman also stays away from themes in other literature on the Second World War. In fact these books are more about, as Ian Johnston argues in On Spiegelman’s Maus I and II, how to read and understand Holocaust narratives. Even more central to the book is Spiegelman’s relationship with his father.

The difficulty in understanding and portraying the Holocaust narrative the character Art Spiegelman experiences is reflected in the changing use of panels throughout the text. The comic is divided between two narratives, the first is the present with Art and his father, the second is the narration which Art’s father is giving. The first narrative has a typically very structured form. It sticks to its grid without any major breaks. This reflects the everyday of their lives, how it has become normalized.

The father’s story narrative begins with the same regularized format but as his world becomes more chaotic so does the panel structure. Not only is this a reflection of the world that the characters found themselves in but it reflects the “impossibility of fitting in the father's experiences into the framework of an easy, regular, and predictable pattern.” (Johnston)

Maus is a reflexive comic, challenging the nature of storytelling and how truthful it can be. In the middle of Maus I we get a comic written by Spiegelman. The characters tell him that it is very true and objective. But we are told this by characters drawn and written by the self-same author. At the end of Maus II we have Spiegelman’s father telling us that after he reunited with his wife they “lived happy, happy ever after.” Over the course of the narrative, however, we have learned that this could not be further from the truth. We already know by this point that she actually committed suicide. Part way through the narrative Art is contemplating whether or not he can even publish this (obviously he can, we are reading it). By doing this he pulls us out of the story and points out that we are reading a comic. Using reflexivity in his tale emphasizes his difficulty in writing this story and the reflects the difficulty of a younger generation in dealing with the suffering of their parents.

Three Piece Suit By Eddie Campbell

2009-04-07T21:09:00.002-04:00

I read Eddie Campbell’s graphic novel Three Piece Suit which is a volume of three separate graphic novels of his put together. The first is Graffiti Kitchen, which is based around the character Alec MacGarry, a character that reappears throughout the volume. However, Campbell says that the three stories are meant to stand alone. In Graffiti Kitchen the characters life and mind is very fragmented, he seems to be unsure of what he wants. This concept of the character is displayed through the techniques used in the graphic novel itself. The panel border constantly changes size and width and sometimes there is no border at all. The text looks hand written, its messy and looks almost like someone scribbled it. The drawing style mirrors this type of text, the lines used are a very expressive type style and look likes scribbles as well. This idea is reflected in the story when Campbell states in one of the panels that: “I think the ancestors of the comic strip are to be found in the facetious scribbles on ancient walls such as those preserved in Pompeii and Rome”.

The second graphic novel in the volume is called Little Italy, it’s a collection of random comic strips all of which seem to examine questions or aspects of life. The drawing style differs slightly in each story, however they are all more clearly drawn and with straighter lines when compared to Graffiti Kitchen. The final graphic novel is The Dance of Lifey Death in which the character Alec appears again, only now married and with kids. The stories in this graphic novel examine, much like Little Italy, stories about aspects of life but all within the character Alec. The paneling structure doesn’t seem to break away to much from a nine panel structure, however, one thing that is easily noticed about Campbell is that he tends to experiment with the lines used to contain the border and often has only the illusion of a border. Throughout all the three stories Campbell often brings to light questions about comics, how they’re structured, how they’re written, and especially how others view them.

Stephen King’s The Stand becomes a Marvel adaptation that “stands out”

2009-04-07T17:03:00.002-04:00

Stephen King's The Stand is arguably his single most popular work. Like books into film, there is an understandable concern for whether adaptations of good fiction will actually turn out to be "good." That being said, the graphic novel adaptation of The Stand is one of those rare cases in which people may not jump so quickly to the phrase "the book's always better."

What makes Marvel's version of The Stand so cool to read is its graphiation. Again, it is a rare thing that Stephen King's knack for narration is overshadowed by visual art. Stanley Kubrick accomplished this making the film adaptation of The Shining, and Marvel joins his company, thereby almost removing from the book the grips of the author.

In Donald Ault's article "Preludium: Crumb, Barks, and Noomin: Re-Considering the Aesthetics of Underground Comics," he claims that "In most mainstream comics, the "auteur" designation is simply misleading because of the assembly line production of comic book texts, with separate writers, plotters, editors, pencillers, inkers, and colorists" (86). While this may be true, Marvel's The Stand definitely retains King's creepy story elements, but visually depicts it in such a way that the macabre still has effect. The "assembly line" quality may seem a derogatorily-named one, but I believe that in reading this adaptation it is seen that each job on the assembly line was performed by the most expert of workers - not the underpaid and non-unionized.

But what is still at question is what makes The Stand 'stand out' in comparison to the original prose novel. I believe that to successfully compensate for the imaginative narration of King is no little task. To achieve in the reader of Marvel's version a more horrific, tumultuous, and nail-biting experience than reading the original book is something that requires awesomely effective appeals to the senses. And Marvel does this through graphiation. They attempt to create images that scare you more than your own mind is capable of doing. This, they do through the assembly line at Marvel. And this they do extremely well.

M. Thomas Inge discusses the popularity and effect of visual appeals to the senses in his paper "Comic Books, A Bibliographic Essay." He begins answering the question of what accounts for the popularity and staying power of comic book art: "In the first place, it appeals to the senses: the brightly coloured pages and heavily outlined figures grip the attention of the reader and like all art satisfy the urge of the eye to place the riotous colon of life into a balanced perspective. Second, it appeals to the imagination in its role as narration, and like all literature, it satisfies the thirst for vicarious adventure into worlds and experiences outside daily reality. Finally, it appeals to the mind in its effort to create rational order out of the chaos of existence by reducing conflict and complexity into a simplified and therefore less threatening moral battle between the forces of good and evil" (295).

I believe that what will ultimately count as a success in Marvel's The Stand series is the ability to appeal to the senses, its appeal to imagination in its role as narration. This is why the original version by King was so successful, and this is why Marvel's will as well.

"It may be true," says Inge, "that the comic book had not fully reached its aesthetic potential as narrative and visual art, but the numerous bright spots and accomplishments are sufficient to suggest its genuine potential as an art form of the future. Given the fact that we have become a society in which the majority of information is conveyed by visual means, and if he Gutenberg revolution is indeed over as some would have us believe, the comic book of the future may remain one of our last links with the printed word" (302). If what Inge says is true, and prose novels are on their way out, then the Steven King-purists (if there are such people) should not be offended by Marvel adapting their horror-bible in comic book form. They should instead be proud of what Marvel's "assembly line" workers have done to produce a quality graphic version of The Stand.

In The Age of "Terrorism"...

2009-04-06T14:36:00.003-04:00

Pride of Baghdad

Verdict: Awesome

Fun Fact: It's almost a true story. About lions. In Iraq.

Characters:

Zill: The... 'Alpha Male'?
Ali: The baby.
Safa: The “Old woman”
Noor: The“Mom”

So I've been reading too much Scott Pilgrim...

Really, though, Pride of Baghdad is brilliant. Brian K. Vaughan's writing once again shines and Niko Henrichon's art pushes this story to the next level. Whilst being fairly straightforward sequentially (there is only one temporal break; a single flashback) it manages to do some amazing things with the prototypical comics form. I might actually argue that the lack of spatial or temporal breaks (which are pretty frequent elsewhere) creates a deeper relationship between the reader and the pride. What of the comics form, though? Well, it uses the reveal (something fantastically unique to the medium) so effectively. Some of the best that I've seen in a while (the opening few pages a case-in point; the first two are pictured). The climax of the story is also a reveal (with beautiful art to boot) and one of my favourite moments.

The colour usage also brings a lot to the table. I've a big debate with myself about what I prefer: black and white or colour? I can't answer it. I never can. I suppose it is – really – whatever suits the content.

It suits Pride.

The colours frequently reflect the environment; there are a lot of earthy browns and oranges (reflecting the colours of the lions) and as the story progresses floral greens begin to enter. There is a really nice switch of scenic colour when the pride encounters a turtle to murky greens. This foreshadows – quite nicely – the arrival of tanks (“what the walkers call their shells”) that share this colouring in a two-page reveal. The aforementioned flashback utilises the darkest colour set and, unsurprisingly-but-nevertheless-effectively, is representing a rather dark moment in Safa's past. The earthy colour set is broken twice toward the end of the book; it becomes darker (but not as dark as the flashback) when Noor enters some ruins and encounters an extremely threatening bear (whose lettering is brilliant. Read it. See it!) And once again at the very end of the book as we see Baghdad burning in the distance and turn to the final full page showing a statue of a lion pinning down a man. This comes in the wake of...

[BRIEF SPOILERS FOLLOW... IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT... UHH!]

...the lions being killed with ease by American soldiers... which I found – well – amazing. A lovely - and not transparent - criticism of the way the “other” seems to be portrayed as the enemy and how we get caught up in this (despite the truth of situations). Hell, that kinda stuff is rife in Pride. This book isn't arrogant, it isn't distant and it isn't even one-sided. It's a really well-written and well-illustrated take on a war-torn country that one can identify with on a personal level... and it's about lions.

I like what comics can do.

Mother, Come Home -- The Trick of Paratexts

2009-04-02T23:11:00.005-04:00

Upon first glance, Paul Hornshemeier’s Mother, Come Home seems pretty straightforward. The muted colour palette, understated drawing style . . . even the powerful (albeit not so uplifting) story is pretty clear-cut. Here, Thomas Tennant narrates his own story of dealing with the loss of his mother, and the resulting mental collapse of his father when he was a little boy. The subject-matter’s heavy, yes, but nothing inside the book is overly-complicated. The page layout is all very orderly; the story’s divided into nice little sections; nothing “experimental” or “weird” is going on.

But that’s the trick, isn’t it?

Like Sturm’s Unstable Molecules (discussed in class earlier this semester), the paratextual elements in Mother, Come Home play with the audience’s sense of what is real and what is not and in doing so, relate the physical make-up of the book to the major themes within the narrative.

In his Paratexts: Thresholds of Interpretation, Gerard Genette defines a paratextual element as “a vestibule that offers the world at large the possibility of either stepping inside or turning back” that “is at the service of a better reception for the text and a more pertinent reading of it”. Mother, Come Home uses what Genette calls official peritexts, which is to say elements originally produced as part of the book (the cover, titles, back matter) that the publisher or author openly accepts or endorses; it is these official peritexts that transform the rather straightforward story into a real-life (but fictional) domestic tragedy that ultimately acts as a promise never to be fulfilled.

If we look at the cover, we’re first presented with a lion’s head door-knocker, effectively inviting us into the book. The lion’s head as a symbol will also later become quite significant – as readers, we will make connections from this first image to the lion mask Thomas is given by his mother shortly before her death. (The mask quickly becomes a shield from the outside world, as Thomas escapes to an imaginary world rather than deal with the harsh reality of his mother’s absence.) Secondly, we read the title and then the credits underneath. Paul Hornschemeier is named, presumably as the author of the book, “With an Introduction by Thomas Tennant”, the main character of the story – implying that Thomas Tennant is a real person. Inside the book, Paul Hornschemeier is further credited as the “designer”, never the “writer” or “creator”, furthering the illusion that Thomas is more than just a character from the story. Within the first few pages of the story, Thomas even describes problems he had “writing this introduction” when first approached to do so. All of these tricks, (for lack of a better word), persuade us to see Thomas as a real person, which – I think – is an attempt to make the story all the more emotionally powerful, because it is perceived as being “real”, not made-up.

The book’s set up and back-matter also work to confuse the line between fiction and reality. We read Thomas’ story as an introduction because we are told that’s what it is – a preface to a much larger work, the first chapter of which is titled “We Are All Released”. So by the end, we expect more. More story, more explanation . . . essentially, there is a lack of closure because of this promise that there is more to come, even if we never actually get to see it, even if it doesn’t actually exist. Thomas’s story is the story but setting it up as an introduction to a larger work makes us read it differently than if it were just given to us as a story.

Why?

Well, I think partially to continue to blur our ideas of reality vs. fiction but also to make us read it as something that needs to be fully understood before moving on – think of it as a step-by-step guide, I guess: You should know and understand step 1 before moving on to step 2. In this way, readers are urged to pay close attention to the story because what they take from it will inform their reading of the rest of the book (that doesn’t and will never actually exist).

It’s a very poignant use of paratexts, and one that I probably wouldn’t have been ready for if we hadn’t already come across something similar. This use of paratexts, of course, is just one of the many great things Hornschemeier does in this book with regards to the comics form and story-telling in general. Highly recommended.

Not your average feel-good Disney story

2009-04-02T18:06:00.010-04:00

After reading and discussing the graphic novel The Other Side which deals with the Vietnam war in class, I became interested in finding other graphic novels within the same genre to see how they handle the sentimentality of war. Given the current political situation, I mostly wanted to find a comic about recent events in the Middle East and the "war on terror" in general. Every search I did on the web led me to the same book: Pride of Baghdad, written by Brian K. Vaughan and art by Niko Henrichon. This graphic novel has received immense media attention since its release in 2006 and much has been said about it already (which I will try not to reiterate).

Basically, it is based on the true story of a family of four lions that escaped from Baghdad Zoo during an American air raid in Iraq. They were eventually shot and killed by American soldiers. In the graphic novel, the family comprises of a two females, one of whom has a cub and one male - they are personified and wandering the war-torn city of Baghdad, hungry and scared, not knowing what exactly to do with their newfound freedom.

The artwork is exquisite in terms of the precision and accuracy of feral anatomy and the use of colour. The overall look and feel is often compared to the Lion King by several critics because of the warm yellow and orange tones used throughout. I also found the images reminiscent of the Disney classic and almost expected to feel that sense of warmth I did back when I watched the Lion King as a child. However, the emotionally heavy subject matter and storyline took me much further the Lion King has potential for. The colour scheme also provides a strong sense of time and place, which situates the reader within the comic. In other words, it evokes the desolation and fear of a place torn apart by mindless bombing.

Also, in terms of Genette's idea of paratext, the title of the book is translated into Arabic on a double page spread in the beginning. Even though I could read and understand it, it works more like an image (and would do likely be just an image for most North-American readers); it works towards locating the reader within the Middle Eastern setting where the story is taking place.

Even though the characters, setting and course of events is loaded with political allegory, it is extremely subtle in its execution. Upon initial reading, the story seems rather simplistic and the reader may not understand what the author is trying to get at. However, various motifs come across in subsequent readings and the one I most clearly understood has to do with the survival techniques used by the lions. The inevitability of their death was heartbreaking because I knew the story before getting into the graphic novel. It seemed to be saying that these lions can survive in the animal kingdom, in their own world, but they are no match for the military beasts that have invaded their city.

Another instance where use of colour creates a certain mood is when the character Safa has flashbacks of being raped in the jungle by several lions. Henrichon uses dull blue and muted shades to elicit the emotional pain experienced by Safa.

However, I did have an issue with the ending of the graphic novel. Pride of Baghdad has been considered one of the most important books (not just graphic novel) of 2006 and I would have agreed with that if it wasn't for the way Vaughan concluded it. The American soldier saying "they are free" seemed a little exaggerated like the author was trying too hard to make the audience sympathize with the soldiers. The required emotionality was present without the soldiers having to articulate it. I think this is a good example of when images speak for themselves and there is no need for narrative. All in all, I loved reading this graphic novel and it's one I can keep coming back to and get new insights each time.

All hell breaks loose in Dead Irons

2009-04-02T02:18:00.010-04:00

I have been following a new monthly series, Dead Irons, from Dynamite which has 6 parts (currently at its second issue). What essentially attracted me to this comic when I first flipped through it at Rogue's Gallery is the highly expressionistic art done by Jason Shawn Alexander. It is a considerably abstract choice that is carried throughout and may sometimes make it difficult to understand what exactly you are looking at. In addition to the artistic style that looks like painting, the entire comic uses dark and brooding colours to create an evil and haunting sort of mood. This is a great example of a point McCloud notes, "an extreme stylistic choice can invest every moment of a story with an overriding mood." This kind of setting also evokes certain emotions while reading the comic; there's a sense of dread and panic the entire time.

The plot revolves around Silas Irons, a recently turned vampire seeking spiritual salvation despite his situation, in search of his bounty-hunting siblings who are also undead (vampire, zombie, werewolf). As the plot progresses in the second issue, we find that the reason for Silas' fate is his own father who sacrificed his children's souls to resurrect their dead mother.

Even though the storyline really interested me right off the bat, I found that each issue was much too short for my liking. At first, I couldn't conceptualize a storyline at all; I had to re-read the first issue. I can't imagine how regular comic readers survive unsatisfying monthly doses (which are indefinite for some comics like this one - new issues don't actually get released each month). The story is hard enough to understand due to striking visual material, which consumed more of my attention than the actual story or the dialogue, without having it end abruptly.

To elaborate upon the effect of the art, I felt as though I was lingering on the images a lot and focusing on what they show (sometimes they were confusing) and perhaps ignoring narrative surrounding them. This portrays the concept of reflexivity because the art refuses to imitate real life and calls attention to the fact that the comic is constructed. Along with that, there are several instances of "sound words" in the comic that seem like they have been drawn onto the panel so that they are part of the character's world, rather than external to it. For example, on page 10 in issue #2, the words "blam blam" disappear beneath the border of the panel.

Moreover, gutter space and panel borders are used very creatively throughout the series. A majority of the comic contains panels without any gutter space at all between them, producing the effect of time elapsing very quickly, demanding the reader's attention from one panel to the next in a matter of seconds. The whole comic is really action-oriented; a majority of it follows McCloud's concept of action-to-action sequence because it is "plot-driven."

However, it seems a bit paradoxical because the painting style gives each scene a sense of timelessness because it requires so much attention. The action is supposedly happening very fast but the art slows it down; it made me want to keep coming back to read the issues one more time. An example of this is the first double page spread of the series, in issue #2, which is a completely unbordered everlasting panel. It depicts the undead monsters attacking a town in the Old West in a feeding frenzy and it seems to go on forever. The focal point is clearly the wolf with bared teeth; it is unexpected when you turn the page to it and makes you take a step back.

Silas Irons is shown having flashbacks at various times in the story and readers are really given a chance to get sucked into the story and actually identify with a character. And it is specifically during the tormenting memories of his father that black gutters are used between panels. This highlights the intensity of emotion felt by the character.

In terms of lettering, I noticed something interesting and that was the font used for the werewolf's speech. It is a classic horror font in melting red and stands apart from all the rest, which is a generic typesetting for all characters. To me that indicated that the werewolf is a little more evil than his counterparts.

One problem I had during the process of reading (and some other people may have also mentioned this) had to do with the advertisements that appeared several times. I found them extremely distracting and they distanced me from the comic even further.
Overall, I was hooked on Dead Irons and will definitely be picking up the rest of the issues when they come out.

ULTIMATUM

2009-03-30T20:44:00.004-04:00

Being an amateur comic reader, I was recommended the new series Ultimatum which currently has three issues out of the eventual five. The series which is based on the idea that the end is coming, merges together almost every mainstream super hero you could think of. The Fantastic Four, Spiderman, the Hulk, X-Men, the Ultimates, and the list goes on. After Magneto from the X-men begins a kind of doomsday on earth, the superheroes have to band together to save earth.
The comic itself has a kind of chaotic feel. Although I have a general knowledge of some of the superheroes, I found that the vast amount of characters from different series and the condensed individual storylines made the issue confusing at times. I found that this randomness of the huge group of characters made me somewhat disinterested when reading it, and displays what McCloud says about disrupting the flow of the comic. Another factor that disrupts the flow, is that the series is clearly a commercial comic. Almost every other page is an advertisement which as McCloud points out “yanks the readers out of the world of the story” (33), never allowing you to fully get lost in the narrative.
The series seems to have a lot of similarities to the All Star Superman we read in class. The style of drawing seems somewhat similar as well as the choice of panel structure, like All Star Superman, constantly changes playing around with different set ups and often overlaps panels. Eco talks about redundant narratives in comics, and that these types of literature (superheroes) often gives us the same story lines only slightly different. In the storyline almost every characters significant other is killed making revenge their motivation. This repetitive narrative, especially when set up beside one another in the same story, has a drawn out feel of reading the same story just with a different drawn character attached to it. Overall I’d say that the idea of mixing all these different superheroes doesn’t flesh out, and that the heroes should probably stick to their own worlds.

O Mister Sandman, Weave Me A Dream...

2009-03-29T23:53:00.001-04:00

I recently started reading “The Sandman” series by Neil Gaiman and P. Craig Russell and was just bowled over by the stunning artwork that is both elegant in its simplicity and yet manages to evoke the tone of myth. Paired with the lyrical and poetic words, it seemed more like a mythic tale than something that can be bought for only a few dollars (hallelujah, engaging reading material that won’t break the bank).

In issue #1 “The Dream Hunters” story is set into two parts; part one tells the beginning myth of how the fox met and fell in love with a monk in a remote temple and part two tells of the start of disaster as monsters plot the monk’s death and the fox takes it upon herself to save him at all costs.

Before the story proper begins there is a sort of poem to introduce the main themes: dream and reality being intertwined. The story blurs this line as it first establishes a fox and a badger competing to drive the monk from his temple so that one of them would have a nice home. The badger uses a dream to persuade the monk that he has been summoned by the emperor but the monk sees the badger tail and sees that he is being manipulated, and refuses to leave. In the dream, the fox takes the form of a beautiful woman and tries to get him to run from bandits with her. Again, the monk recognizes that no woman has eyes the shade of fox eyes and is not fooled into leaving the temple. In both cases dreams are used to try and manipulate the monk but neither creature can truly hide their true identity, and it is the monk’s ability to see clearly that saves his temple.

The idea of the power in dreams being connected to our waking lives seems like a new age concept or is relegated to a Freudian analysis of our unconscious but within the story dreams are another plane of existence where powerful beings can guide (as the Master Fox does for the red fox) or influence lives (such as the Baku who eat bad dreams and thus take away their ill omens).

Though the story brings to mind myths about talking animals and speaking through dreams there is a connection to how comics as a form work. In comics there is little separation between reality and dreams, the only obstacle is in translating the imagination onto paper in a way the readers will understand.

In the Afterword by Neil Gaiman he talks about the creation of “The Dream Hunters” being done after the Sandman series as a compliment to the original. While I think it would be worthwhile to read the original I don’t think I need to in order to understand this story.

I thought it quite interesting that while people saw the original work as fiction itself, the references within the work were taken as actual literary works, which could not be found as they were made up by the author. I always find it interesting that in any work of fiction readers expect a certain amount of our reality to seep in and if it can’t be found in real people or places than the references to myths must be historical. Personally I found the story to be attractive because it was done in the style of myth and therefore I needed no outside sources I order to understand it. The story creates its own back-story in chapter one and therefore no additional context is needed.
Overall, it is so lovely I’m going to reread it before I start on the next installment.

32 Stories Worthy of Attention

2009-03-28T11:50:00.020-04:00

Writer and artist Adrian Tomine claims that 32 Short Stories: The Complete OPTIC NERVE Mini-Comics “would not exist had high school been a pleasant experience for [him].” Tomine describes himself as a socially detached adolescent, a loner if you will, who spent his weekend evenings keeping himself occupied by “making serious attempts to create stories in comics form.”

Eventually, Tomine self-published some of his stories (derived from the sketchbooks which “he didn’t intend for anyone to see”) under the title Optic Nerve. Issues #1-5 were written between 1991-93―a period spanning Tomine’s high school career and his transition into college. By 1994, just prior to the release of issue #7, Tomine was offered a publishing contract with Drawn and Quarterly, “effectively ending the mini-comic incarnation of Optic Nerve.”

32 Stories witnesses an evolution in Tomnie’s style. Decidedly minimalistic, Tomnie’s comics develop from rather crudely rendered sketches to highly stylized panels, as evident even in his manner of depicting story titles.

Paradigmatic of Tomine’s tone, “Man’s Best” is a sinisterly humorous tale of a man who, after buying a fox terrier at the behest of his wife, succumbs to his paranoid delusions that dogs are “watchers… spies, y’know?”

Gene Kannenberg argues that “lettering plays an important yet often overlooked role in [...] visual storytelling,” as it is related to “the dynamic interplay of image and text” in comics. He maintains that a relationship exists between lettering and “narrative consequences.” Kannenberg distinguishes between narrative, metanarrative, and extranarrative qualities. He deems that metanarrative qualities may “provide information about the narrative, beyond the information in the grammatical content of the words [...]. Through formal presentation and manipulation, text can convey metanarrative information such as sound/tone of voice, characterization, pacing, and thematic resonance.”

“Back Break” speaks to the way in which textual design, or the appearance of font, may function as a metanarrative. The lettering of the title of this story is so intense, it functions to produce a sort of synaesthesia because it looks the way pain feels.

In addition to text, iconographic images work to communicate meaning not explicitly articulated in words. For example, information within the caption and the speech bubble in this panel don’t convey a sense of atmosphere; however, facial expressions indicate mood, and the thought bubble demonstrates a visual translation of what the character in the bottom right is thinking.

Tomine utilizes autobiographical material and, what he deems, “realistic fictional character[s]” in his oneiric treatment of matter-of-fact subject matter. His stories are infused with poignant wit; a darkly comic sensibility (at times digressing into self-deprecation); and a keen introspective quality.

If 32 Stories is the first example of his work you’ve seen, Tomine (in his introduction) implores that you seek out his more current work because he is most proud of it. 32 Stories has served as my introduction to Adrian Tomine and I will definitely be seeking more; not because of Tomine’s humble attitude toward his earliest comics, but because I really loved the entire collection. If you are at all ironic in your awareness of the world, or appreciate the funny in the morose, I highly recommend 32 Stories.

2009-03-27T21:01:00.005-04:00

Y: The Last Man - Unmanned

2009-03-23T19:32:00.016-04:00

Writing about Brian K. Vaughn’s Y: The Last Man is a bit like attempting to write about The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band or John Cassavates; its difficult to formulate anything new about something that has already seen so much published about it. What is left to be said? Everybody I talk to who is even casually into comics (and many who are not) have heard of the series and can tell you its concept without hesitation: Yorick Brown is the last man on Earth after the mysterious and simultaneous death of all other creatures in the world with a Y chromosome (with the exception of Yorick’s pet Capuchin monkey Ampersand). The monthly title (which saw its finale in January 2008 at issue 60) went on depicting Yorick’s quest to find his girlfriend Beth, who had been in the Australian Outback when the ‘plague’ struck. Simultaneously, he is being escorted by the mysterious government Agent 355 and geneticist Dr. Allison Mann on a mission assigned by the President of the United States to discover why Yorick and his pet survived the mass-death and how they could begin to repopulate the planet using his genetic information. These three characters' journey also has them encountering the man-hating cult The Sisters of the Amazon, Israeli terrorists, and even a Japanese assassin whom all have different agendas for the world’s last man. The series has garnered incredible amounts of commercial and critical success, from newspaper articles to academic essays, and it has even been reported that New Line Cinema has purchased the rights for film adaptation and plans to release it in the form of a trilogy. Surely there is something special about Vaughn’s brain-child narrative to be able to appeal to such a broad audience, including many people who usually have little interest in the comic medium.

Currently available at the University of Windsor’s Leddy Library is the first paperback collection of Y: The Last Man - Unmanned. This collection sets up the series, introducing the central characters, their motivations, and exactly what a world without men would be like - a world where 48% of the population have suddenly died out, and the remaining female body of the Earth must figure out the religious, social, and political ramifications of such an event, as well as retaining the knowledge that this means the human race is now poised to extinction without males to reproduce with. Unmanned is rich in social commentary about racism, sexism, the division of power between gender lines, the fragility of human society, and love. Despite the heavy-handed and apocalyptic content of the comic, its characters never dip into maudlin brooding long before humorous dialogue keeps the pace flowing (after a former model-turned-corpse collector discovers Yorick, she ‘investigates’ to make sure he is truly a living male or just a cross-dresser).

Not only thematically engaging, the presentation of the book is fascinating too. Artist Pia Guerra renders the characters simply without relying on immense shading or atmospheres, but uses facial and body expression to deliver striking communication to the reader. In a powerful moment, Yorick’s mother discovers to great relief that her son has survived the mass-death, while the next panels see Yorick overcome by grief at the revelation his father has died along with all the other men. The shadows on his face, his downcast stare, and the lack of tension of his body gesture all generate an incredible delivery of emotion.

The graphic novel also uses some unique elements to tell the story, one being a reoccurring long black panel that informs the reader of the locations and time lines of events occurring in the story. This results in a very cinematic feel to the graphic novel, fitting to the epic scope of the work. Another reoccurring element is the shape of a Y, a motif that acts both as a reminder to the world’s loss of the men and to correlate to Yorick’s mission. Page 127, for example, shows Yorick, Dr. Mann, and Agent 355 appearing in the centre of a Y shaped intersection in a barren and empty street, a physical representation of how their separate paths have intersected during their individual quests. Yet for all of the unique techniques and themes ongoing in Unmanned, what makes Y: The Last Man such an engaging read in the end is its reliance and emphasis on the individual characters which make the story seem so human.

Yorick is the hero of the story, but is often depicted as fool-hearty, judgmental, and naive. Though empathetic at times, he is never uniformly written as an admirable character, but also as cocky and arrogant. There is Agent 355, a member of the mysterious US government agency known as the Culper Ring. She is serious and methodical, acting as the foil to Yorick’s foolish brashness. As much as she is annoyed by his constant complaining and attempts at making jokes, she is also seen as loyal to her mission and is protective of Yorick in an almost motherly way: check out page 100 where she berates Yorick after revealing himself to be a man to a gang of murderous man-hating Amazons. Then there is the cynical and sarcastic Dr. Allison Mann, a character not seen much of in this book but became a major player as the series progressed. Like 355, she is a foil to Yorick’s naivety and brashness, a figure who is confident and intelligent, but whose hubris lays in her fixation to outdo her father’s work and who initially blames herself for causing the extermination of men due to the “immaculate birth” of her cloned child. These are not stock types but well-rounded and complex characters who are engaging and empathetic.

Reiterating what many others have said, Brian K. Vaughn has created a masterpiece of speculative science fiction. Y: The Last Man is a work that not only delves into the deep rooted social issues of patriarchy, but also presents characters as people, not as types. They are never statically humorous, nor maudlin, nor pitiful, nor sympathetic, but flow amongst these to create characters that are engaging and humane. Unmanned is a fantastic introduction to what is truly one of this decades’s essential comic series, and is recommended to those who enjoy their graphic fiction with a bit of brain, heart, and humanity.

9-11 Emergency Relief: Visual Rhetoric

2009-03-20T14:05:00.013-04:00

“ I’m still in shock. I have this feeling that I’m going to walk into the house and turn on the TV and see Captain America, The Avengers, Superman or the JLA saving us” – From "Fiction is Better Than Reality" by Danny Donovan – writer for DC comics

In one of the most powerful statements in 9-11 Emergency Relief, comic writer Danny Donovan compares fiction to reality. The fact that this is located within the few opening pages really brings out the "comic book" aspect the creators are trying to achieve within this work.

On September 11, 2001, the terrorist attacks touched many people worldwide that many cartoonists turned to art to express their grief and support. From creators like Will Eisner and Harvey Peker, this work shows an amazing, touching and unique way to express grief and support.

This project created to benefit the American Red Cross, features a wide variety of collections of personal non-fiction accounts of many experiences on September 11th. What is so unique about 9-11 Emergency Relief is that it has the ability to transform a variety of different perspectives through the many shapes, design and drawings used by different cartoonists. The fact that this comic is not created by just one cartoonist, but a number of popular cartoonists only helps to enhance the strong visuals within this comic.

With the use of black and white colour, this visual element adds the tone of the comic as being "darker". No colour panels or images would have been appropriate. Also, the cover of this comic shows a recognizable, image of a firefighter, representing the story as a whole and not being separate stories.

In Defining Visual Rhetorics, both Hill and Helmers study the relationship of visual images to persuasion. They question,

"How do images act rhetorically upon viewers?"

I am also taking a Rhetoric course here at the University of Windsor and through this reading, I wanted to tie the idea of rhetoric to 9-11 Emergency Relief because this comic most certainly does persuade its audience in many different ways. Readers are led to believe that these stories are real, while in reality most of them are fictional. "Historically, images have played an important role in developing consciousness and the relationship of the self to its surroundings." (Hill and Helmers 1). The images in this comic are persuaded perfectly as they are created with so much detail and emotion. Another aspect very important to rhetoric is emotion in whatever is being "persuaded." The emotion in each of these stories located in the comic is evident. Not only are the cartoonists creating this emotion, their audience is feeling it through the images in the comic. "Rhetoricians working from a variety of disciplinary persectives are beginning to pay a substantial amount of attention to issues of visual rhetoric.

Through an analysis of photographs and drawings...scholars are exploring the many ways in which visual elements are used to influence people's attitudes, opinions and beliefs." (Hill and Helmers 3). The visuals of this comic are all differently created, even though the same theme is being presented. What makes this comic "real"? Obviously, this is a real tragedy that has affected the word, but what makes these stories real? It is the art of rhetoric, the persuassion of through visual rhetoric that the audience sees and reads, which makes readers feel a great deal of emotion. Hill and Helmers also discuss the relationship between viewing and time saying, “Images work on us synchronically and diachronically. Synchronically, we view the image that represents the present. Diachronic viewings are slightly more complicated, for we view an image that represents the past and was created in the past, but we also view contemporaneous images with a knowledge of their precursors and their previous meanings...” (5).

There are two main cartoonists to be given recognition in this comic. First, is Dean Haspiel and the second, Josh Neufield. Here, (above) Haspiel uses the power of the one-page panel with a bleed of a smaller panel showing the heavy emotions of the character as soon as he is a witness of the plane crashing into one of the towers. The panel is showing the synchronic view that shows the image in the present.

If you notice this page, the panels are different shapes and again, the sound "RRRUUMMBB" is prominant as it is located in the middle of page. Again, the idea to be emotional is key as the readers will most likely look at the background of this panel because more "action" is going on.

Josh Neufield also creates his own story of September 11th. Look closely to the brilliance of the last panel. This panel is the most captivating as it finally slows the reader down to take the whole page in. Throughout the page, it has so much detail and action going on that the last panel, showing the horrifying scene through the eyes of the character is really appealing.

Enders and Games

2009-03-14T19:58:00.005-04:00

I’m currently following the five-part Ender’s Game comic (by Yost, Ferry, and D’Armata) that Marvel has been putting out in anticipation of the upcoming film. For years, I’ve been meaning to read the source material, Orson Scott Card’s Hugo- and Nebula-winning novel of the same name, but haven’t had the time and figured that a five part comic series would be a little simpler to fit into my schedule. Only three comics into the young Ender’s futuristic military training, I’m continually impressed by the artwork of the comic, but I’ve been worrying about how much information from the novel I’m missing out on by experiencing Ender’s Game as a comic book.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that a comic book version is inferior to a novel version of a story. It’s just different. The novel has more time to explain, where the comic must always show, or risk wasting space and compromising the reader’s attention. As with the two versions of Paul Auster’s City of Glass that we discussed in class recently, the two versions of Ender’s Game each use their respective medium in a different way to present the same story. A few daus agp. I asked my friend, Sean, who recently read the novel, about the “Giant’s Drink” training game where Ender plays a mouse. Sean’s response simultaneously confirmed my fears of missing information while also sparking my interest in the comic’s visual choices.

What Sean said was that in the novel, there is no way Ender could have done the things he did in the “Giant’s Drink” game, without having his own (human) body. The comic never textually states that Ender becomes a mouse when in the game. It only shows a mouse representing his in-game actions. I told Sean about other panels of Ender playing training games as himself, and Sean responded that these were, in fact, part of the same “Giant’s Drink” game. What I had initially assumed to be two separate games, I now understood to be the comic book’s way of showing a conflation of Ender’s tactical in-game self, and his real-world self, as an individual. This understanding instilled great value in the one panel showing Ender’s reflection in a computer screen displaying the in-game mouse. The panel expressed a fusion of the two sides of Ender, his in-game and real-world selves.

In the pages following the panel metaphorically expressing the fusion of these two aspects of Ender’s character, we encounter the panels where we see in-game Ender (or his digital image, as the case may be) overlaid by text addressing real-world Ender. Unlike earlier panels where caption boxes separated text and narrative belonging to real-world Ender from images of his training games, this panel places combines the two in the image alone. I find it very innovative how this panel manages to use Scott McCloud’s notion of interdependence of word and text by not only combining them (as in the sense of text-image montage), but more than this, by fusing them as one with no caption balloon or box to draw a clear dividing line between the two. The fusion of text and image in this panel come to mirror concurrent metaphorical fusion of Ender’s two selves.

Without knowledge of the source text, I would have completely missed out on this metaphorical merger presented visually within the comic. Not only am I now convinced of the necessity that I read the novel, but I have a greater respect for the comic, which I had initially taken to be merely an abridged, comic book version of the novel. More than reading the novel, though, what I’m truly looking forward to is re-reading the comic book to see the other ways that Ferry and D’Armata have made use of the visual possibilities of their medium.

More Than Words (But Still Mostly Words)

2009-03-14T18:52:00.009-04:00

A lot of time is spent talking about the deeper levels of communication present in comic books such as that which occurs throught multimodality or in the gutters between panels. Lately, though I began to wonder: could a comic book be of any real, artistic value if it only relied on images as supplemental to the text? If so, would it still even be a comic book?

Then I found Adrian Tomine’s Sleepwalk and Other Stories in Leddy’s graphic novel collection. Tomine presents us with a collection of sixteen bittersweet short stories of individuals from all ages and walks of life. Reminiscent of James Joyce’s Dubliners, the stories in Tomine’s collection merely hold up a mirror to world around us, with minimal interest in moralizing on what is reflected. The predominantly psychological interest Tomine takes in his characters holds the reader’s attention in spite of a minimal amount of action. It is because of this innecessity of action that Tomine’s book manages to work with so little emphasis given to the visual element of the medium.

In suggesting that Tomine does not make full use of the visual possibilities of the comics genre I am not suggesting that he has failed to do so. Nor am I suggesting that this takes away from his work in any way. Sleepwalk and Other Stories is an excellent read and truly deserves to be called literature. The artwork is quite good while the style is highly appropriate for the tone of his stories, but rarely do the images aspire to do much more than depict what is described in the narration of the caption box, or present a character speaking. There are exceptions, of course, such as “Lunch Break” and “Hazel Eyes”. The first relies heavily on silence and uses text in only about a quarter of the panels while the latter capitalizes on the multimodal communicative potential of the comic books genre quite well. Ultimately, though, despite the minimal use of visual aspects of the comic book form, Tomine’s Sleepwalk and Other Stories is a refreshing medium between the graphic novel and more ‘traditional literature’ that relies solely on text.

The Strong Points of Shortcomings: An analysis of writer/artist interdependence

2009-03-08T22:39:00.002-04:00

"I'm so cute! I listen to indie rock! But... I'm sad. Can you relate?" On the cover of The Comics Journal #205, Adrian Tomine drew one of his characters, often accused as being "trendy" or "emo," in hopes of self-parodying his work. Character and identity are recurring themes in Tomine's work, and none might be better at displaying this than Shortcomings, which can be found in the stacks of Leddy Library's graphic novel section.

Shortcomings is a semi-autobiographical comic series, in which a Japanese American named Ben Tanaka juggles the struggles with his racial identity and his relationship with his girlfriend, Miko Hayashi. Ben, a manager at the local independently owned movie house, is extremely cynical, critical, sarcastic, and insensitive. His relationship goes to hell when he is accused of having a wandering eye in the direction of Caucasian girls. The tragic flaw of Ben is that he confuses personal problems with political ones, and the truth of the situation is always just outside his peripherals. This is essentially the root of his shortcomings.

In Scott McCloud's book Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art, he talks about the importance of viewer identification. This I think is very significant regarding Tomine's book.

"Throughout its history," says McCloud, "comics have harnessed the power of cartoons to command viewer involvement and identification, and realism to capture the beauty and complexity of the visible world. (McCloud, 204). I believe it is Tomine's purpose of creating a character like Ben Tenaka to achieve in the readership some form of identifiication, however slight. We have all been in relationships that crumble by ways of miscomunication, atleast I assume we have. Tomine's cultural references, be it North American or Asian, are definitely intended to inspire reader involvement and indentification. Throughout the book, I found myself saying over and over "I know what you mean, man."

What makes Tomine's book so different and interesting is that his dialogue is so laden with characterization and emotion, and it is this that sets the book apart from anything I've seen personally. One thing that has always bothered me when reading comics as an English major was that the text was lacking in everything but basic description informing the pictures. In Shortcomings I have found Woody Allen. I have found such an attention to conversational detail and style, that I could be reading a storyboard and a script at the same time.

In Will Eisner's Comics & Sequential Art, he speaks at length about the importance of the writer's role in storytelling. He says that the artwork – the visual aspect of it, may dominate the reader's attention. "This then," says Eisner, "lures the artist to concentrate his skills on style, technique and graphic devices which are designed to dazzle the eye. The reader's receptivity to the sensory effect and often his evaluation of its worth reinforces this concern and encourages the proliferation of artistic athletes who produce pages of absolutely stunning art held together by almost no story at all" (Eisner 123). What Eisner is saying is that the writer and the artist must work together to form a complete 50/50 collaboration. There needs to be interdependence between them. "In view of [...] interdependence there is therefore no choice (in fairness to the art form itself) but to recognize the primacy of the writing. In doing so, however, one must then immediately acknowledge that in a perfect (or pure) configuration the writer and the artist should be embodied in the same person. The writing (or the writer) must be in control to the very end" (Eisner, 127).

What makes Shortcomings so great is that Tomine is in complete control throughout his story, for he is both the writer and artist. This is why the story, rich with dialogue, is complimented so well with the art.

Scott McCloud talks about this kind of word/picture interdependence in more detail: "Words and pictures have great powers to tell stories when creators fully exploit them both[...]Perhaps the most common type of word/picture combination is the interdependent, where words and pictures go hand in hand to convey an idea that neither could convey alone (McCloud, 152-155).

If you enjoy a more realistic, socially provocative read I strongly suggest picking up one of Adrian Tomine's books from the Leddy Library. It is easily seen in his work the sort of writer/artist duo at its best, and this is probably because Tomine is a one-man show.

Theory and Practice: Incognito

2009-03-08T12:57:00.004-04:00

On February 23^rd, our Graphic Novel seminar class looked at the introduction to Gerard Genette’s Paratexts: Thresholds of Interpretation. At this time I was starting to read the monthly Incognito by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips and saw that this comic is a perfect example of how paratext works. Genette defines paratext everything surrounding the text which adorns, reinforces and accompanies with verbal, visual or other productions. Examples of paratext include, but are not limited to: author's name, a title, a preface, and illustrations. These various forms of paratext, while not necessarily a part of the body of the work, affect the text in many ways; from sales to meaning.

Cover:

Because it sold so well, the first issue of Incognito was re-issued with an alternate cover. Each cover functions differently as paratext carries a different meaning. The original cover’s more dramatic scene frames the comic in the super-hero genre; albeit darker styled than say superman, as accentuated by the primarily black and grey colours with heavy shading. The character on this cover is obviously a super-villain and he looks very “cognito”, which makes a potential reader wonder what is incognito about this comic.

The second print cover is far less dramatic and is dominated by black with accents of red and white. While still portraying itself in the super-hero genre (where else would you find people putting on masks?) it also is reminiscent of the crime genre in the way the cover is drawn. Incognito, as a title, works with the picture to make a potential reader wonder more about the man on the front of the comic. It is unknown whether he is good or evil and why he has to be incognito.

Back matter:

In the back matter, Ed Brubaker explains that part of the intentions

of this comic was a nod back to the old pulp fiction comics such as The Shadow. As such, each issue thus far has had an excerpt from Jess Nevins’ Encyclopedia of Pulp Heroes.

Paratext, Genette explains, can change the way in which readers will understand the comic. If they chose to read it the paratext frames the issue and future issues as a sort of pulp hero story, at least for those familiar with the tradition. Even those who do not know traditional pulp fiction will look at Zach Overkill differently. Because the back matter presents descriptions of heroes, this makes him seem more akin to heroes than to the villains. The villains do not get a full description, only honourable mention as antithesis to the hero. Framing the text in this fashion causes at least one reader to wonder if this means Zach is developing into a sort of super-hero. Note that by hero I am talking about a grey-area hero like batman or Rorschach, not a super-man.

The Waiting Game...

2009-03-05T20:18:00.004-05:00

Dear Readers,

I finally managed to delve into the first issue of my monthly comic, Batman Confidential. I've never read a monthly comic before...I'd pick up the occasional Cheryl Blossom, or Betty and Veronica here and there but they weren't much for cliffhangers. Unfortunately for me, that means I never had to develop any sort of real readership towards comics. In any case I start reading The Curse of King Tut! and am really starting to get into the storyline and then much to my boyfriend's surprise I let out a resounding "NOOOO!!!!" What happened you find yourself asking? Well, to put it frankly...it ended! This is likely the most frustrating read I've ever had to bear. What are these monthly subscribers thinking? I can't imagine doing this all year round. Fortunately for me my monthly is a three-part series which means I'll likely get to see most of it played out before summer starts.

The Batman Confidential series is set during Batman's earliest days as a crime fighting super hero. This particular episode, The Curse of King Tut, is the first, and what I believe is the only, appearance of King Tut in Gotham City. Many mysterious murders have taken the lives of museum executives and the only clues left behind come in the form of riddles. The next logical choice for Batman and Commissioner Gordon is to turn to the only man they know capable of creating such masterminded puzzles, The Riddler, who is currently residing in Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The Riddler, provides the answer to the riddles and even offers up his services to help prevent future killings but only on the condition that he be set free, of course. Batman turns down this offer as he can only assume The Riddler is in on the plot. After the discovery of one more body and a small battle with the Egyptian prince himself, they return to Arkham to seek The Riddler who naturally has managed to escape.

The series also features different writers for the various storylines. This one is written by Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, and much like the other comics in this series, is intended to showcase the important developments between Batman and the criminals he'll spend many years chasing after. I'd love to say how great this comic is but unfortunately its hardly even begun.

Yours in Suspense,

Erica

Graphic Novels Collection at University of Windsor's Leddy Library

2009-03-04T19:17:00.004-05:00

As I have mentioned before, Leddy Library here at the University of Windsor has a great collection of graphic novels. Begun in 2005, the collection is continually growing, encompassing everything from full runs of Y: The Last Man and Sandman to Chester Brown's I Never Liked You and Seth's Clyde Fans to the recently re-issued collections of Peanuts and Terry and the Pirates. There are academic books on comics such as Thierry Groensteen's System of Comics and Jeet Heer's and Kent Worcester's edited collection, A Comics Studies Reader. There's a bit of manga, a smattering of European comics, some Scrooge McDuck, and even a collection of two of romance comics. In short, there's something to interest everyone.

But don't take my word for it. Check out Leddy's Graphic Novels page at Library Thing to get a sense of some of the titles in the collection.

As well, if you're on the UW campus later this month, stop and check out the display of posters on how and why to read a graphic novel, created by the students in the Contemporary Graphic Novels seminar. Not only will you learn something about comics, but you'll be able to see even more of what's available in the collection at Leddy. And I guarantee you that the librarians at Leddy are nicer than Rex Libris.

A Cocktail of Comics and Pictures

2009-03-02T21:37:00.015-05:00

“Lullaby of Broadway” is one of Maurice Vellekoop’s many comics from his books “Vellevision.” The comic revolves around a male character showing his day to day life leading up to his death. Visually, there is no colour. It is a black and white comic which is fitting for the story line that follows a seemingly mundane life. With no colour involved, the visual element adds to the character of the story who is an actor with a rocking night life.

The absence of text makes what Macleod calls choice of moment more important. The telling of the story is left entirely up to which moment is shown when. I think this is why Vellekoop uses the action-to-action panel sequence. Macleod states that this type is efficient in keeping the pace of the story brisk, which Vellekoop accomplishes well only showing a moment from every few hours of his life so as to keep the story from becoming boring.

The choice of frame, another concept from Macleod, is obviously how the panels are framed. Vellekoop accomplished framing in an interesting way using a small clock in the top left corner of the frame to indicate the passing of time. Without text to indicate some sort of time frame, the framing is much more important in Vellekoop’s comic. Macleod stresses not making these visual elements too distracting for the reader, but the clocks in conjunction with the black and white colour does not create a distracting frame.

Vellekoop uses the establishing shot often in this comic to set up large scenes that needed a certain chaotic mood set. Showing a wider angle with more people and actions going on help set the chaotic nights, a sense of nightlife scenery, that the main character leads. In terms of the ending, these establishing shots are very important. The main character is eventually killed as a result of the chaos so setting up this atmosphere in establishing shots basically builds the story’s end.

Macleod also talks about choice of word that brings an unparalleled level of specificity, with some names and concepts only able to me made clear through words. However, I disagree with Macleod on this concept because Vellekoop accomplishes a clear narrative and sense of irony through pictures alone in “Lullaby of Broadway.”

To Laugh Or Cry: A Comic about the 2008 Tigers

2009-02-24T21:56:00.005-05:00

How did I miss this comic over at Roar of the Tigers? As a comics scholar, I'm fascinated. As a Tigers' fan, not so much. Much woe is right. Just look at how sad Paws is here.

But it's spring and hope reigns. As I write this post, it's the eve of the Tigers first pre-season game. Right now Dontrelle WIllis is a stud pitcher again, Gerald Laird is going to steal a dozen bases, and Rick Porcello is the second coming of Mark Fidrych.

Read the comic I must, if only to get last year out of my system. Maybe next year's comic will be a little happier. The Spazzosaurus just needs to stay well clear of the pitching staff.

Riddle Me This: What Graphic Novel Would You Recommend to Someone Who Doesn't Read Graphic Novels?

2009-02-23T21:50:00.007-05:00

In conjunction with Jeff Lemire's visit to the University of Windsor on March 30 (more soon), we're trying to promote the graphic novel collection at Leddy Library. Of course, the people who read comics make very good use of the collection and for those people, all you have to do is point them in the right direction. But what about the person who has never read comics or hasn't read comics since childhood? How do you get that person to sit down with a graphic novel? How do you encourage non-comics readers to explore what's out there?

So, the question is, what graphic novel would you recommend for a non-comics reader and why? Drop a line in the comments section with the title, writer/artist, and one or two sentences that explains your reasoning.

For the Graphic Novels Seminar, the students are creating Annotated Comics Pages that will show/theorize how to read a comics page. What I would like to do is take some of your suggestions and include them in this library display that is being created for the end of the semester (to coincide with the Lemire visit). My hope is that all of it will come together to help create even more interest in the excellent collection of graphic novels that is housed at Leddy Library.

Dark Adaptation by Lorenz Peter

2009-02-21T11:26:00.002-05:00

Dark Adaptation: A Graphic Novel on Life and Life’s Conflicts
Canadian comic Lorenz Peter hauntingly portrays the impact and struggle of dealing with family in his personal graphic novel “Dark Adaptation”. This graphic novel focuses on the mind’s process as the protagonist learns his mother has cancer and how it affects him and his life. It’s a memoir into the struggles of life and how one person, Loulou, deals with life’s conflicts, specifically cancer in his mother. This novel enticed me because the story is relatable to everyday individuals in how it expresses human vice and illustrates life as never being perfect, but ends with a moral. This graphic novel seems to evoke a novel like pattern by containing a clear moral at the end, which is to simply be happy in your life and live each day because you never know when you will lose someone. It illustrates the importance of living in the moment and letting go of past grudges and mistakes. Peter uses language and images to convey this message by focusing on his protagonist’s coming of terms with his mother’s cancer by undergoing a mental regression and remembering his past, while in the end coming to terms with his family, their past struggles, and realizing life is too short to hold familial grudges.
This graphic novel’s enticing images are one of the first things that drew my interest. Peter uses black and white images which are hand-drawn but have the look of a photograph at times. His detail is unbelievable, focusing on hiding words within scenery to provoke the reader to contemplate the meaning literally and visually within each image. I also find it interesting how he relies so heavily on images to convey meaning and 4 pages + sometimes go by with no words. Instead Peter relies on images to carry the plot and the reader along. When Peter does use language his script is pencil-like, expressing the personal theme of the novel and helping to illustrate the memoir-like theme.
The framing of the novel is also very important contextually. Peter uses frames to illustrate human life scenarios and images of nature and society are not framed at all, but instead blend into the white pages to create their own frame. I think this is insignificant because it illustrates the power of nature and expresses it as something uncontrollable, whereas society and humans are bound by control and physical boundaries. This is just one example of the ways Peter uses images to illustrate meaning within his text.
Overall I really enjoyed this graphic novel and would recommend it to people of all ages that want a graphic novel that focuses on life and how one individual deals with life’s conflicts.

Graphic Novels Seminar: Supplementary Readings

2009-02-20T15:30:00.005-05:00

As promised to the students in the Graphic Novels Seminar and for anyone else who is interested, here are links to some supplemental readings for the last half of the course. In addition to these four books, we have The Other Side (Aaron and Stewart) and Ghost Stories (Lemire) left to read.

City of Glass (Karasik and Mazzucchelli)
The Poetics of the Page: City of Glass, the graphic novel (Kuhlman)
"Paul Auster's City of Glass: The Graphic Novel" (Coughlan) - MFS Modern Fiction Studies Volume 52, Number 4, Winter 2006, pp. 832-854 (Available through Leddy Library through Literature Online)

The Tale of One Bad Rat (Talbot)
Panel Borders Interview with Bryan Talbot

Funhome (Bechdel)
"An Interview with Alison Bechdel" (Chute) - MFS Modern Fiction Studies Volume 52, Number 4, Winter 2006, pp. 1004-1013 (Available through Leddy Library through Literature Online)

The Fate of the Artist (Campbell)
Tom Spurgeon Interview with Eddie Campbell
Gutter Geek Review of The Fate of the Artist

Comics Autobiography
"Autographics: The Seeing 'I' of Comics" (Whitlock) - MFS Modern Fiction Studies Volume 52, Number 4, Winter 2006, pp. 965-79 (Available through Leddy Library through Literature Online)