Web Comics

For this week, I focused on reading Octopus Pie.I found the format of web comics to be particularly intriguing since, as we discussed in class, they are becoming more popular due to the accessibility both to artists and readers and are and indication of what the future of comics is going to look like. This comic in particular has no outstanding story line, two women living in New York and struggling as many people have, but the avenue which is used to portray it is well thought out and very effective.

Going back to our original idea of the icon in comics, the characters are more or less very generic looking, which of course leaves room for us as the readers to place ourselves and our friends in their place. The use of humor is also beneficial to the delivery of the story. Perhaps it is because few of the other selections I have read focus explicitly on their comedic appeal, but I found myself breezing through the reading simply because it was entertaining, clever, and enjoyable. One scene in particular that resonated with me was where we see drunk Eve with a group of her friends at a bar. They look across the room to see two people they know making out, at which point they all make remarks on how gross/inappropriate/undesirable the scene is. Eve, however, slurs with eyes wide open "But guys...Love is so beautiful." I think that a majority of the audience has probably experienced a drunk friend confessing their love in one way or another, which is what makes this portion of the story especially memorable. If anything, from this comic and what I have learned this semester, I can conclude that successful comics keep the reader in mind: both with the clarity of the message and including elements that people can relate to. Creating interest is what will keep people reading a graphic novel, and personal appeal is key in establishing that connection.

I also looked briefly at Tiny Kitten Teeth. The rendering and illustrative qualities are obviously beautiful and quite unusual as far as the comics I have seen go. However, I did not spend much time reading through it because honestly, I am not a cat person, and was having a hard time enjoying looking at cats so much. A lame excuse, I know, but it is the truth.

Unlovable

Over Thanksgiving Break I took the time to read Unlovable by Esther Pearl Watson. The two things that stood out to me about this book were the style of drawings in their historical context and the premise under which the graphic novel was made. The book states that the author and Mark Todd found a diary in a women's restroom on a road trip from Las Vegas to San Francisco belonging to Tammy Pierce. After reading it, they based Unlovable entirely on its contents, and developed a visual accompaniment for the written text. I find this to be a really intelligent use of resources. Artists often put their own lives into their work, making it more or less autobiographical. However, this is arguably overused, and I believe that it is often difficult to truly evaluate our own lives and depict it in the most entertaining way possible, whatever that may look like. But with unlovable, Watson was able to take someone else's diary and interpret it at her own will. This therefore resulted in a dramatized, but humorous and unusual depiction of a teenager's life in the 80s.

This lends itself to the other aspect of this book that I particularly enjoyed. The drawings that made up each page were, as the title may suggest, horrible. Horrible not in their craft or skill, but in their honest illustration of the unusual characteristics that parallel themselves with teens appearance, the 80s, and youth in general. Tammy, adorned in 80s patterned clothes and permed hair, continually has lopsided nipples, arm pit and leg hair, bright makeup and other slightly disgusting traits. However, from her descriptions of her life in the text, I infer that if Tammy were to draw herself instead of Watson, she would look quite glamorous. This difference shows the creative freedom of working on someone else's story. I enjoyed seeing the crudeness of the characters, and thought that their embodiment of the time they lived in was captured in a way that it was unusual and interesting enough to catch my attention, but in a way where the panels and story line was still clear and aesthetically pleasing.

DRAWRING

Here are a few quick comics I have made concerning things that happen to me on wednesdays. I think the simplicity [and therefore clarity] of the four panel one works loads better than the second.

Love & Rockets - No. 1

Love and Rockets No. 1 by the Hernandez Brothers tells the tale of the Ti-Girls, the Fenomenons, and their search for the troubled Penny Century. The most notable component of this comic is the focus on the role of women. Thinking back, I can't recall a single male character in the entire Ti-Girls comic. I found this to be particularly interesting considering that the authors are both men.

The first prominent feminine theme that defines the story is the competition between stereotypes. Despite the fact that all of our characters are super gals in one way or another, we have a constant tension between the Fenomenons--slender, flashy, beautiful women who attract [or steal] attention--and the Ti-Girls--old, overweight, unconventional hero types. Although they eventually find a way to cooperate and save the day, their multifaceted interactions are an exaggerated portrayal of the female psyche in real life. Members of the audience do not have super powers, but can nevertheless relate to the way these women act because there is an aspect of reality in the character development. Women are competitive, judgmental, and make assumptions about other women based on nothing more than their appearance, which the Hernandez brothers pay keen attention to and use as a storytelling element.

Another motif throughout the comic is motherhood. More specifically, we see a demonstration of different mother-daughter relationships, and the power of maternal instincts. Penny Century's entire ordeal is based in the fact that she lost her daughters, and is thrown into blind rage by their separation. This too is based on some level of reality: readers can easily understand the possibility of a woman reacting severely to such a situation. The authors take this subject to another level later in the story when the Ti-Girls somehow "give" maternal instinct to one of the heroes in order to aid her in locating Penny Century's daughters. Again we see motherly tendencies, which are a very real part of most peoples' lives and are often unexplainable to a point, being exaggerated to add interest to the barrier that the characters face.

Sandman - Neil Gaiman

In addition to reading Neil Gaiman's Sandman #5, I did some research on his life and other work to gain a better understanding of his influence on the world of comics. In short, his success is far reaching, and his comics demonstrate only a part of his ability as a writer. But regardless, his graphic work has earned tremendous recognition, which I would argue is due to the fact that Gaiman is so versatile. Gaiman's experience ranges from children's books to venues beyond the visual arts such as poetry and prose. In short, his multiplied success allows him a greater understanding of what will appeal to any given audience.

Sandman's mystical subject matter was what struck me the most while reading it for the first time. Such topics are easy to butcher, so it is impressive to witness a thoughtful treatment of magic and myth paired with quality design in his comics. In the video we watched during this week's class, Alan Moore [whose work I think clearly relates to that of Gaiman]discusses the necessity for successful fantasy to remain a derivative of reality in some aspect. Despite its fictitious qualities, the reader remains grounded in parts of Sandman such as the zombie figure receiving a ride from a usual woman in a usual car, or our empathy that results from the same character having lost his mother and using that as a driving force for his actions. Overall, Gaiman's knowledge and care in his own work are what allow him to so eloquently execute comics that resonate with a great number of people.

Asterios Polyp

Asterios Polyp by David Mazzuccheli--for lack of a less dramatic phrase--changed my life. Initially the visual aspect of the graphic novel struck me unlike any other graphic piece I have encountered. The use of color and varied typography as more in-depth storytelling elements was highly sophisticated, and because of their addition to the collective story, the characters are more developed, which results in greater audience interaction with the story.

Beyond the visual artistic components I was highly impressed with the intellectual content of Asterios Polyp. Mazzuccheli found intriguing ways of illustrating abstract concepts that surround the subject of thought and intellectual limits. In other words, this novel dealt with the core of Asterios' inner wiring which serves as an examination of greater human kind in general. For example, in one section of the book we see a diagram resembling some kind of atomic structure with the statement that Asterios is the center of his own story. We see his face very large in the center next to his wife's [which is considerably smaller] with other prominent people in his life in varying positions around them on the atomic track. Not only does this illustration give us insight as to the flaws in Asterios' character, but we also better understand how he operates due to the fact that we can place ourselves in his position from the structure of the panel to see that if we are honest enough with ourselves we will probably see that our own personal diagram would be similar to Asterios'.

Soon after we see this panel, Mazzuccheli presents another version of the social diagram after telling the readers of Asterios' divorce with his wife. At this point his head has shrunk, the atoms have been blown off their track, and the viewer sees a chaotic version of what had previously been shown to them. This of course signifies the importance of being level headed by pictorally representing Asterios' struggles after finding himself more or less alone.

Overall, I felt that this novel was successful because it paired stunning design with an honest examination of human tendencies. It could be my personal sympathy with Asterios, but I truly felt that by reading Asterios Polyp I was reading about some abstract version of my life, or peoples' lives in general. Sounds lame maybe, but what can I say? My interest in graphic novels has skyrocketed in these past few months.

Persepolis

Marjane Satrapi's work Persepolis stood out to me among the novels I have read thus far this semester because of its context. The plot follows a decent chunk of Marjane's life, and although other works such as Blankets does the same, Persepolis seemed to have so much more information within the story.

I read the entire novel in two days, and considered stopping several times due to other work I had. I thought "I have a good enough idea about what is going on that I can finish this after Thursday." However, luckily I persevered and discovered that there are important developments in Satrapi's tale throughout the plot. My greatest connection with this novel is not one of deep analysis, but of quantity. After completing the novel, I felt like I had just lived her life with her and experienced those same struggles, as opposed to merely observing it.

Manga & the Japanese Comics Tradition

For this week, I read Phoenix: Karma vol. 4 by Osamu Tezuka. This graphic novel resonated with me in several different ways. My first reaction was surprise: nearly the first half of the book seemed to consist of the protagonist trotting around killing whoever he pleased regardless of who they were or his relationship to them [ex: he slays his wife part-way through the plot].However, things took a turn after he killed his wife and Tezuka introduced some valuable life lessons into the story. I was impressed that such eloquent themes evolved out of such a violent start, which added a deeper level of legitimacy to this genre for me.

But beyond these elements of the graphic novel, what struck me the most were the panel progressions that depicted a short amount of elapsed time, and focused on the images to explain the scene as opposed to words. Any words that were used were onomatopoeias, which retains a pictoral quality despite the inclusion of actual letters. A few examples of these progressions are shown below.

I think that I am attracted to theses kinds of sequences because of my roots as an illustrator. Although my interest of sequential work and the use of text in any art form has always been there and continues to grow, I am most impressed by smart design within pictures that do not rely on another form of language for the audience to respond.

Stereotype & the Ethics of Representation

After discussing stereotypes in class and reading American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Tang this week, I was reminded again of Scott McCloud's agrument of the icon. The importance of the icon is demonstrated most effectively in the context of stereotypes.

Because comics depend on immediacy in recognizing the content of each panel, comic artists often play on stereotypes to maintain that level of urgency in communication with readers. In Tang's novel, the character cousin Chin-kee is a perfect example of the embodiment of a stereotype. He introduces himself on page 48 in a single panel that spreads the whole page and exclaims "HARRO AMELLICA!" wearing a typical Asian garment, with his hands clasped together in front of his chest. Cousin Chin-kee's yellowy skin, slit eyes and flat looking nose also add to our impression of his character. Tang holds no barriers in conveying to the audience that Cousin Chin-kee is clearly of Asian descent, and his execution is highly effective.

Although Chin-kee's traits are iconic and the most effective way to communicate to readers, there is also the potential of Tang's creation of his character being offensive. As with discussion of any stereotype, the line is often thin between acceptable and attacking. This leads us to the question as to what methods are available for comics artists besides use of the stereotype? In other words, how would Tang pictorally demonstrate Cousin Chin-kee's race without giving him slit eyes, a distinct accent, etc? The most satisfying answer that I have come up with is that the use of stereotypes in comics is more or less inevitable, and the difference between okay and not lies within the context of the stereotype and to what degree it is taken.

As for Cousin Chin-kee's character, Tang pushed his mannerisms much farther than any other character in the novel, and displayed him in a comical way. Although it is not too far for me as a reader, I can easily see how some individuals may be left with a bad taste in their mouth because of Cousin Chin-kee.

Wordlessness

Throughout the semester I have been playing around with crating a few comics of my own. Here are some rough ideas I have come up with.

Maus

Art Spiegelman's Maus translated comics from a relatively narrow genure into a more literary one, which caused many more people to respond to this story than previous graphic novels. Maus's success is due to the fact that the story appeals to a broad spectrum of people beyond those who had been invested in comics up to the date of its publication. Characteristics that allow for Maus's popularity are the fact that the author closely incorporated his personal experience with the work, the iconic imagery that is used throughout, and the particularly humanistic nature of the dialogue.

Maus tells the story of Art Spiegelman gathering information about his parents' experience with the Holocaust, which lends itself seamlessly to artist vulnerability. It is often the case in the arts that the closer an artist is to their work emotionally, the more successful it is because that personal inner content is somehow translated directly to the audience who in turn responds more actively. Spiegelman addresses themes such as family and the importance of memories throughout--particularly in discussing his mother's suicide--which have a universal basis which stirs our inner human in one way or another. Because the themes that Maus depicts hold value in any human experience, the audience can become much more easily involved, and thus interested, in the happenings of the book.

The iconic nature of Maus also provides the audience with a strong base with which to connect to the story. Because there are no human characters in the book, each reader can more easily empathize with the personalities that Spiegelman illustrates. Fully developed humans as a means for conveying the plot would have placed this graphic novel among the array of literature that has already been created, and further alienated the audience. Specifically, the love story between Art's father and mother and the struggles it entails is general yet personal enough to evoke meaningful emotions. These feelings because they are two sweet looking mice as opposed to humans.

Although Maus contains purely animal characters, it retains a human quality through the dialogue which further connects the reader to the story. Art's father has a heavy accent due to his heritage, which is translated through the written speech within the panels. Art as the protagonist has distinct speech habits as well. Despite the fact that he does not have an accent like his fathers, the audience witnesses the development of his character regardless due to the casual nature of his words. His uninhibited exposure of his true personality lends to closer relationship with the audience and progresses the success of the novel as a whole. Overall, Spiegelman's effort in making the text unique and true to actual speech adds a deeper level of intimacy to Maus.

In conclusion, the elevated level at which the reader can connect with Maus is what makes it such a notable work in the world of comics. Spiegelman is unafraid to show his personal involvement with the piece, capitalizes on the benefits of iconography, and takes care to include many human details: all contributing to the holistic success of this piece of literature.

Underground: Mother's Oats

The experience of reading underground comics threw me into new territory in the world of comics, and art in general. Startling as it was, I found myself quite attracted to the selection I read not because of the subject matter, but the ideation and attitude surrounding it. The personal liberation that accompanies the creation of comics allows for complete inhibition in expression, particularly concerning subjects such as sex, drugs, and other obscenities that are otherwise taboo to mainstream culture.

Mother's Oats had parodies of advertisements filling pages before the comics that stood out to me as particularly entertaining because of their ruthlessness. One ad depicted two elderly people and stated "Getting old? Try LSD! I mean like what the hell? If you're that far gone why not?" This message signifies both the culturally defiant nature of underground comics and the adoption of drugs as an acceptable--perhaps even valuable--part of everyday life. I may respond to this idea positively because it is one that many of my dearest friends would be quick to advocate, but I also see great value in the openmindedness that it signifies. The uncensored tendencies of underground comics provides for a broad range of honest self expression, which I believe is the most valuable aspect of this genre.

Craig Thompson & Blankets

Craig Thompson's Blankets was a wonderful experience for me. I understand why there are varying opinions surrounding it, but I personally find it to be very impressive, and beautifully crafted.

Some of my favorite parts of the story were when Thompson recalled his experiences of sharing a bed with his younger brother. Thematically, his relationship with his brother represents his holistic struggle between submitting to the influences of his past and facing developing himself as he grown up independently. Craig also has similar conflicts concerning Raina, and his religion.

Often, Craig and his brother's experiences are cut short in some way by "reality," or facing adult expectations, which illustrates how he must ultimately defy dependency. Occasions which best represent this theme are when the boys create electric sparks with their bed sheets, pee on each other, and eventually get their own beds. For the first, the boys are disappointed when after sharing their exciting discovery with their parents, are told that it is not "little glittery sprites" in their bed, but merely static. Next, when their mother discovers the boys peeing on each other, Craig mentions that taking a shower to clean up rather than a bath signified an unspoken--and arguably unwanted--transition into adulthood. Lastly, after finally getting their own beds, the brothers end up sharing by choice, until "seeking refuge in each other's beds became completely inexcusable," which highlights the influence of outside pressures to grow out of childish behavior. As a whole, Craig's relationship with his brother is the most light hearted avenue of addressing individuality, a major theme in Blankets.

The Comic Book: Carl Barks

While reading for the forth week of class, Carl Barks' comics with Donald Duck were the most surprising to me. Although I grew up knowing Donald Duck's character, I had only watched the cartoons, and never read the comics. As a kid I found myself annoyed by Donald, mostly because of his voice but also his general manner of conducting himself. When it came down to my juvenile judgement, I always preferred other cartoons above Donald Duck.

However, I found that I did not have those hints of disgust while reading the comics. The Mad Chemist was one story that I read, and although Donald was still quite aloof, I found that it was enjoyable, and that the comics are much more appealing to me than the television cartoons. I think that this difference is due to the increased participation that is required of the audience in reading comics.

This characteristic relates the idea of audience participation with different kinds of media. With digital storytelling such as movies or television shows, the activity is external, and all that we have to do is ingest what is in front of us. Comics become much more personal because we fabricate the missing aspects of the story in our minds, which activates our imagination and increases our personal investment in the story. In other words, my experience with Donald Duck varied between the cartoons and comics because of the distinction between projected reality [comics] and physical reality [animation]. I believe that because of my imaginative nature, I am much more drawn to the internal activity that reading the Donald Duck comics allows as opposed to the forced imagery of animated stories.

The Comic Strip

Winsor McCay has remained one of my favorite illustrators ever since I was first introduced to his work last year. Conveniently enough for the purposes of the Literature of Comics and Graphic Narratives class, Little Nemo in Slumberland and Dream of the Rarebit Fiend are among my favorite bodies of work that I have come across not only for their artistic merit but the substance in their subject matter.

Upon a general reading of either strip, the audience can clearly understand that McCay presents us with dream sequences. However, after closer reading there is much more to be appreciated than a mere group of pictures.

The structure of the panels reflects the plot within them, as their size and shape often change according to the state in the dream, the characters within the dream, or the difference between being awake or asleep. Not only does this characteristic provide more meaning to what is happening within the strip, it also makes for a more visually interesting page. McCay also composes each frame to subtly indicate what may happen in the next panel, and thus creates a relatively seamless path for the reader to follow. For example, a character continuing to slump or fall over during the course of several panels may be leading up to the final "awakening" panel in which we see that the dreamer has fallen out of bed. McCay is able to combine finesse in all aspects of visual storytelling to produce a beautiful and sophisticated work that stands out as the pinnacle of comic strip creation.

I also found the differences between Little Nemo in Slumberland and Dream of a Rarebit Fiend to be intriguing. Although they both are categorized under "dreams," the two strips adopt contrasting approaches to how they address the subject. Little Nemo centers around children, seeing as Nemo himself is a small boy who wanders throughout his own dreamlands. Although he seems quite alarmed at certain points, the general tone is one of wonder and discovery. Dreams of a Rarebit Fiend on the other hand deals much more so with fear and insecurities. The latter also has adult characters, which I interpret to be a comment on the differences between adult and child mindsets. Whereas children typically approach the unknown with an absorbent mindset, adults are much more rigid in their uncertainty which results in much more frantic reactions to the situations presented in their dreams. But in both cases, the comic strips bring to surface issues that are relatable in the sense that many people have felt or thought about the subjects that McCay addresses, but never voice. Because of the universality contrasting the personal secrecy of McCay's subjects, readers can easily place themselves in the characters situation and can easily become emotionally invested in the episodes which is a valuable quality in any good piece of work.

Scott McCloud - Understanding Comics

Reading a text book in the format of a comic book itself was a new and thrilling experience for me. Hell yes, this is another reason why I love art school was the first thought that came to my mind as I considered the fact that most of my friends from back home were pouring over hours of writing lab reports while I was cozying up with some tea to read a comic about comics.

And indeed, it was a pretty pleasant experience. Coming from someone who doesn't know much beyond the surface level of comics, I feel much more knowledgeable after reading Understanding Comics, and a few aspects were particularly interesting to me. The first topic that stuck with me was the difference between Eastern and Western comics. Although I have always noticed that there is a clear visual difference between eastern and western comics, I had never pondered the reason behind why those variances exist. For example, McCloud mentioned that eastern comics are often characterized by more realistically rendered backgrounds contrasted by stylized and simpler characters. Up until this point, I assumed that anime, manga, and things of that sort were just different, and a little strange to be honest. It was interesting to hear, however, that this difference is due to the fact that Western comic culture rejected the new and radical pairing of different styles, which left Eastern cultures to embrace it as their own. I feel like this topic illustrates a key difference that exists between these two groups that is relevant beyond the world of comics and can be applied to a lot of current events.

The idea of the icon was another topic that I have been thinking about after reading Understanding Comics. While my instinct tells me that more realistic and rendered images are easier for audiences to relate to, McCloud argues that icons, or subjects shown at a basic level hit much closer to home. His reasoning behind this makes a lot of sense, because the lack of specificity in icons allows for our minds to fill in the details, and often place a part of ourselves in the characters or story.

Over the course of this class so far, I have enjoyed viewing comics on a deeper level and have grown to be interested in how they can comment on our society at large or even address humanity as a whole.

Shaun Tan - The Arrival

Upon first reading The Arrival, a graphic novel by Shaun Tan, I was struck in the first few moments by the appearance of the pages. The imaged used to compose the story are beautifully illustrated, and evidently composed with care and sophistication. Being an illustrator, I was impressed and my relationship with this book was off to an excellent start.

But perhaps the most notable aspect of The Arrival is the fact that there are no words to tell the story. I quickly found, however, that this peculiarity did nothing to diminish the communication between the pages and the reader, but rather added to the overall effectiveness of the story.

The story tells of a man who leaves home, and travels to a fantastical land in which he finds his way into the extant culture, and is reunited with his wife and child by the end of the tale. In the unusual construction of the environment, we sense the same isolation that the protagonist experiences upon arriving in the new world. The language is indistinguishable, the objects unfamiliar, and the creatures only vague resemblances of the ones that we have knowledge of. A lack of written word is therefore an appropriate vessel for The Arrival because it introduces the reader to a new way of reading and interaction, and parallels motifs that the plot possesses.

I suspect that some readers would react negatively to this change in literature, and argue that without words, we are not reading at all. Although there is basis for that claim, I believe that despite the untraditional method in which the novel presents itself is in fact reading, and can certainly be considered a piece of literature. In my definition of reading, the result of gaining information and what we walk away with as the audience is more important than fussing over how we get to that point. I believe that I now understand just as rich of a story by reading The Arrival without words as I would were it to include text. As was mentioned earlier, this story is a good example of how a piece could potentially be stronger by relying solely on visual language.

Overall I found The Arrival to be highly engaging, both on on subjective and objective levels. The technical craft of the art with which Tan recalls the tale is undoubtedly admirable, and tell us of greater themes such as family, love, and isolation. Its lack of words is an intriguing characteristic, but does not disappoint and serves to draw the reader in more intimately with the sophisticated happenings of the book.