Asterios Polyp by David Mazzucchelli is something of a conundrum for me. It combines a multitude of my interests and provides an emotionally connecting story in a way that I not only thought was not possible, but continually surprised me. I say this in a sincere way of course; not in an amazon book review kind of way. When we discussed the book in class I took note of it, as philosophical though is constant source of inspiration for ideas in my artwork. The discussion of unique storytelling devices that were, in a way, fourth-wall breaking intrigued me as well. One of the large reasons it has always been difficult for me to invest myself in many serialized comic stories is the lack of surprise in the method of storytelling, or even the story being told. I guess part of this is tied to the fact that my thought processes have always leaned more towards the logical, the scientific, and the factual; much like Asterios. However, I also can get incredibly sentimental over small, innate things like anyone else. Because most popular storytelling archetypes rely on juxtaposition of opposities and highly polarized personalities, I find myself often completely unable to relate to a main character, who's personality is usually either in complete contrast to my own, or so overbearing that I have no desire to relate to them. Asterios Polyp presents a character his is both unlikable, and yet completely centered in his world view so it is both incredibly easy to follow his story and at times incredibly frustrating.
Even beyond the characters story arcs, the use of the medium to convey the philosophical problems presented by the characters was inventive and completely caught me by surprise. The use of style to depict the characters, the way the text boxes are often matched to the personalities of the characters themselves, the discussion of the validity of comparing opposites when shades of grey exist all represent both an incredibly studied use of the medium, and a challenging of ideals that we have come to accept within it. In fact, the discussion of the validity of opposites truly existing was one of the most interesting to me, because within the story itself Asterios is constantly confronted with characters that stand as opposite to himself. And yet within the challenge of the notion itself, a sense of respect is given to the opinions which he disagrees with. Though the character Asterios might have trouble interacting with the people he stands in contrast with, we can see that the people he might be insulting in conversation do have a valid point and in return consider Asterios' position. It reminds me a lot of Dan Clowes' style of storytelling, except instead of wanting the reader to see this ugly, sort of fucked up reality that exists within normalcy, we are presented with a critical, but respectful view of the people that are both incredibly mundane and strange. I would personally consider Asterios Polyp to be one of my favorite readings in the class, and will probably reference it a lot in my future work, as I think it is a wonderful piece of storytelling, design, concept, style, layout and many other things.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Manga and Osamu Tezuka's "Buddha"
Manga and anime are something that most people in my generation are familiar, and even comfortable with. I think it's really interesting how penetrating anime was in such a short period of time in America, all within the span of a decade or less. For me it was kind of a seamless transition in my childhood, since I grew up watching nickelodeon and cartoon network. I distinctly remember my first encounter with Pokemon, both the games and the TV show, and how completely different from anything I had seen before it was. I think almost everyone around me became completely enamored with it at the time, and continued to be until it became another "uncool fad". This wouldn't have been that significant if it hadn't ushered in a flood of newly translated anime shows for new audiences to absorb. Some cartoons like Sailor Moon had floated around before Pokemon exploded, but I would say most of my exposure to japanese animation and manga happened almost immediately after. It was perfect, really, because as I grew older I craved things that were darker, more adult in nature, and shows like Cowboy Bebop, Outlaw Star, Ruroni Kenshin and others immediately took up those reigns. What really strikes me now, looking back, is how unusual of a concept it was for american audiences to deal with serious, mature subject matters being dealt with in a serialized cartoon show. Even today, there really isn't a plethora of animated shows that treat it as a medium for serious storytelling. But most people around my age were really the perfect market for bringing these shows over, as we had never experienced the kind of depth some of the shows offered in content and length, and the wide range of subject matters allowed us to continue following shows well into adulthood and still be able to appreciate the things being depicted. There is still a lot of resistance to anime and manga in the country, mostly due to the frightening levels of obsession fans go to at conventions with their own renditions of popular characters. However, certainly for people my age and younger, it is something that has had an undeniable influence on our tastes in life, and I would even argue our worldview. I feel people in my generation are much more open to influences from different cultures than previous generations (though a lot of it is shallow, I will admit). I think it is necessary though in a globalizing world, and presenting different perspectives of the world through various forms of media such as animation and comics represent a big part of that.
On the subject of the reading, I chose to read Osamu Tezuka's Buddha, a few examples of which you had shown in class. It peaked my interest, simply because of the slightly different variation of style from many of the more modern manga character representations. It still had a lot of the typical archetypes of japanese animation, but with a much more fluid, almost disney like gestural quality to the characters. Something that really struck me at first was the seriousness of the subject matter in juxtaposition to the rather whimsical style. Even though there is obviously a lot of artistic interpretation with the stories being told, they do not shy away from the subjects at hand including death, slavery, prostitution, thievery, and nudity. I almost feel like the sentimentalized style makes it almost more effective than a realistic, posed drawing style would, simply because you are forced to relate to the pure emotions of the characters much like what Scott McCloud discusses in Understanding Comics. And the style isn't overly simple, either. Much like in TinTin, the simplified, iconic characters stand in contrast with the incredibly detailed backgrounds to create an eye-feast in every panel. I also feel like the blunt dealing of the subject matters is something that is indicative of Japan's culture as well. It shows that as a culture Japan is much more willing to accept the mediums of comics and cartoons as a method for conveying serious messages, even heavily religious ones. Rather than seeing them as something to sedate kids or lay light morals on top of silly gags, which seems to be the American approach to animation and comics (which is finally beginning to change, thank god) it is really refreshing to see something fully represent the cruelties of life and history in a method that appeals to people of almost any age.
On the subject of the reading, I chose to read Osamu Tezuka's Buddha, a few examples of which you had shown in class. It peaked my interest, simply because of the slightly different variation of style from many of the more modern manga character representations. It still had a lot of the typical archetypes of japanese animation, but with a much more fluid, almost disney like gestural quality to the characters. Something that really struck me at first was the seriousness of the subject matter in juxtaposition to the rather whimsical style. Even though there is obviously a lot of artistic interpretation with the stories being told, they do not shy away from the subjects at hand including death, slavery, prostitution, thievery, and nudity. I almost feel like the sentimentalized style makes it almost more effective than a realistic, posed drawing style would, simply because you are forced to relate to the pure emotions of the characters much like what Scott McCloud discusses in Understanding Comics. And the style isn't overly simple, either. Much like in TinTin, the simplified, iconic characters stand in contrast with the incredibly detailed backgrounds to create an eye-feast in every panel. I also feel like the blunt dealing of the subject matters is something that is indicative of Japan's culture as well. It shows that as a culture Japan is much more willing to accept the mediums of comics and cartoons as a method for conveying serious messages, even heavily religious ones. Rather than seeing them as something to sedate kids or lay light morals on top of silly gags, which seems to be the American approach to animation and comics (which is finally beginning to change, thank god) it is really refreshing to see something fully represent the cruelties of life and history in a method that appeals to people of almost any age.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
European Comics and Moebius
From the selection of European comics, I decided to read the collection of work by Moebius for Heavy Metal. I took the Graphic Novel class with George Pratt two year ago, and as such I was exposed to a lot of different comic artists particularly through reading the Heavy Metal issues he had. I remember coming across Moebius time and time again and it really sticking out in my mind. In fact, reading through most the comics that Pratt would bring in, I found my tastes both drawing-wise and story-wise leaning much more towards the European artists than the american ones. Though there were some fantastic stories told by some of the american authors, it was very hard to come across stories that held up to the passage of time in terms of relevance and honesty. While there were many comics that dealt with the cruelty of war, such as Alex Toth's "White Devil Yellow Devil", which was cited by Pratt as one of his main inspirations, they were few and far between. The glorification of battle and death through an overly sentimental drawing style and hyperbolic storytelling devices were always far more prevalent in the (older) american comics with a few exceptions. The european comics struck me with how much more subtle they were in their pacing, how much less rigid they stuck to panel layout conventions, and how wide a range of subject matters they covered. What especially was interesting to me was that most of the european comics I read that felt almost contemporary in their styles, were created at the same time as the "classics" of american comics by Joe Kubert, and his contemporaries.
I think for me, as for most artists viewing his work for the first time, Moebius' drawing style immediately grabbed my attention. His use of line seemed something more akin to that of a japanese woodblock than a comic book, and his incredible use of color and lighting have always separated him as unique and one of the most talented individuals in the comic industry. With his recent death bringing his work to the public foreground again, I realized I had not read through many of his works, despite heavily admiring his talent and work for other mediums such as the concept work he did for the Panzer Dragoon video game series. Reading through the short stories he produced for Heavy Metal, I realized what a gifted storyteller he was in addition to his god-like drawing ability. The subject matters he dealt with were definitely things I had not seen in comics of the same era and most certainly fell in line with the exposure to European comics I had.
However, what surprised me was his inventive designs for his characters, environments, and the creatures inhabiting it. It really does seem unavoidable how much he influenced much of what has been used in video games, both American and Japanese. His characters all have incredibly ornate and organic costuming, the content of which is entirely relevant to the type of story he is telling. I think that was the most impressive part for me, was that he relied on almost no previous archetypes of characters or time periods or places or anything in designing the look of his stories; it was wholly unique to his vision of the world he was creating. The story that stood out to me the most was Ballade, with its incredible setting that the characters existed in and the unlikely conclusion that they met. Most of the story was told nearly wordlessly, which seems to be something Moebius always trys to achieve, and he completely communicates the atmosphere of the setting through the environment and seamless transitions in the paneling. Particular to this comic, the set up for the story puts you in this lush thick environment where the character is trying to survive the trials of the surroundings, and he is accompanied by a native of the forest. What completely took me off guard was the ending, in which they are confronted with the coming forces of a human army and completely do not understand what they are or what they're about to do. They are then shot down, and completely left and ignored as the army passes. It was amazing that a story so short, and with seemingly nothing to do with reality or the nature of reality, can say more about the condition of war than any of the war comics I've ever read. It manages to communicate the complete lack of attempt at understanding the culture they are inhabiting the space of during a time of conflict.
While I regret not being exposed Moebius' work earlier, I'm glad I have a chance to explore it now as I can appreciate it much more than I would have been able to several years ago.
I think for me, as for most artists viewing his work for the first time, Moebius' drawing style immediately grabbed my attention. His use of line seemed something more akin to that of a japanese woodblock than a comic book, and his incredible use of color and lighting have always separated him as unique and one of the most talented individuals in the comic industry. With his recent death bringing his work to the public foreground again, I realized I had not read through many of his works, despite heavily admiring his talent and work for other mediums such as the concept work he did for the Panzer Dragoon video game series. Reading through the short stories he produced for Heavy Metal, I realized what a gifted storyteller he was in addition to his god-like drawing ability. The subject matters he dealt with were definitely things I had not seen in comics of the same era and most certainly fell in line with the exposure to European comics I had.
However, what surprised me was his inventive designs for his characters, environments, and the creatures inhabiting it. It really does seem unavoidable how much he influenced much of what has been used in video games, both American and Japanese. His characters all have incredibly ornate and organic costuming, the content of which is entirely relevant to the type of story he is telling. I think that was the most impressive part for me, was that he relied on almost no previous archetypes of characters or time periods or places or anything in designing the look of his stories; it was wholly unique to his vision of the world he was creating. The story that stood out to me the most was Ballade, with its incredible setting that the characters existed in and the unlikely conclusion that they met. Most of the story was told nearly wordlessly, which seems to be something Moebius always trys to achieve, and he completely communicates the atmosphere of the setting through the environment and seamless transitions in the paneling. Particular to this comic, the set up for the story puts you in this lush thick environment where the character is trying to survive the trials of the surroundings, and he is accompanied by a native of the forest. What completely took me off guard was the ending, in which they are confronted with the coming forces of a human army and completely do not understand what they are or what they're about to do. They are then shot down, and completely left and ignored as the army passes. It was amazing that a story so short, and with seemingly nothing to do with reality or the nature of reality, can say more about the condition of war than any of the war comics I've ever read. It manages to communicate the complete lack of attempt at understanding the culture they are inhabiting the space of during a time of conflict.
While I regret not being exposed Moebius' work earlier, I'm glad I have a chance to explore it now as I can appreciate it much more than I would have been able to several years ago.
Sterotypes and Stuck Rubber Baby
I'm really happy you chose to focus one week of the semester on stereotypes, because I think as a culture it is one thing we are acutely aware of in some areas, and in others I think we cling to them because it fits in our nice, safe worldview. Obviously it is a complex subject matter, and comics is probably one of the last places most people would see as being a problem area for cliched stereotypes to exist. We've discussed a lot in class about the obvious stereotypes that exist about comic readers, fanbases, and particularly gender in relation to readership, but I think there are a lot of unaddressed stereotypes being represented within the community that are also causing a limitation of readership. Women obviously being a large demographic that have a hard time navigating through all the impossibly chested, sexually charged superheros to find something actually believable. Though the market has opened up quite a bit for women comics authors, and as a result I feel the general market in original comics has shifted towards a more ambiguous subject matter and more realistic scenarios within the stories. However, the majority of the readership are still young adult males, and america being a capitalistic society it is going to market the majority of the content towards the demographic that can make the most profit.
To tie this tangent into my reading of Stuck Rubber Baby, I feel the LGBT community, while obviously having made a ridiculous amount of progress towards social acceptance in the last 10 years, is a demographic that is still incredibly stereotyped within the media. While there is a significant presence of LGBT characters on many tv shows and movies in todays world, I would challenge how many of them really break any new ground in regards to their depiction of said characters as actual people. Even a show like Modern Family, which sheds a largely neutral light on two married gay men raising a girl, still relies on incredibly old character archetypes to depict them in a way that is both funny and still palatable to the majority of white, conservative americans. And if you've ever seen the documentary "The Celluloid Closet" or a similar film, its easy to see these character archetypes are grown out of decades and decades of the same characters showing up in films, most of which depict them as harmless humor devices, or truly disgusting villains to be reviled. This is the exposure that the majority of older americans, particularly the baby boomers, grew up with and it is something that will probably not change for most of them.
I think that was why I was drawn to Stuck Rubber Baby and its depiction of a man growing up in the midst of the baby boomer generation and dealing with the cultural-wide repression of sexuality, racism, and incredibly insensitive stereotyping. Obviously as a member of the LGBT community, I identify with the challenges the character grew up with, however I think a lot of the issues he was facing were incredibly tied to growing up in the time and place which he did. While it is harder for me to relate to that, I think it is important to see a fairly accurate depiction of the incredible repression someone in that environment would have faced. I also find it interested from its fairly unpleasant and ugly depiction of a time period most people of the same generation regard as paradise. Though the sexual repression of the 1950's is a common topic of depiction amongst most media, there is still a kind of witholding that I think draws from a nostalgia most people still hold towards a "simpler time". I did thoroughly enjoy the rather blunt depiction of the time period for the main character, especially since he wasn't aware of his sexuality in the midst of it. So he didn't really face any of the direct prejudices an openly gay man, or a black person would have faced at the time, but he was very honest in his observation of the prejudice he did see. As we discussed in class, I do think the importance of this release in the comic world has diminished over time as more honest depictions of gay characters in media has increased, and this work is definitely dated in a lot of ways. However, I do think it is a good reference point, and a very interesting study of a time period that is so overly sentimentalized its almost impossible to find an accurate depiction.
To tie this tangent into my reading of Stuck Rubber Baby, I feel the LGBT community, while obviously having made a ridiculous amount of progress towards social acceptance in the last 10 years, is a demographic that is still incredibly stereotyped within the media. While there is a significant presence of LGBT characters on many tv shows and movies in todays world, I would challenge how many of them really break any new ground in regards to their depiction of said characters as actual people. Even a show like Modern Family, which sheds a largely neutral light on two married gay men raising a girl, still relies on incredibly old character archetypes to depict them in a way that is both funny and still palatable to the majority of white, conservative americans. And if you've ever seen the documentary "The Celluloid Closet" or a similar film, its easy to see these character archetypes are grown out of decades and decades of the same characters showing up in films, most of which depict them as harmless humor devices, or truly disgusting villains to be reviled. This is the exposure that the majority of older americans, particularly the baby boomers, grew up with and it is something that will probably not change for most of them.
I think that was why I was drawn to Stuck Rubber Baby and its depiction of a man growing up in the midst of the baby boomer generation and dealing with the cultural-wide repression of sexuality, racism, and incredibly insensitive stereotyping. Obviously as a member of the LGBT community, I identify with the challenges the character grew up with, however I think a lot of the issues he was facing were incredibly tied to growing up in the time and place which he did. While it is harder for me to relate to that, I think it is important to see a fairly accurate depiction of the incredible repression someone in that environment would have faced. I also find it interested from its fairly unpleasant and ugly depiction of a time period most people of the same generation regard as paradise. Though the sexual repression of the 1950's is a common topic of depiction amongst most media, there is still a kind of witholding that I think draws from a nostalgia most people still hold towards a "simpler time". I did thoroughly enjoy the rather blunt depiction of the time period for the main character, especially since he wasn't aware of his sexuality in the midst of it. So he didn't really face any of the direct prejudices an openly gay man, or a black person would have faced at the time, but he was very honest in his observation of the prejudice he did see. As we discussed in class, I do think the importance of this release in the comic world has diminished over time as more honest depictions of gay characters in media has increased, and this work is definitely dated in a lot of ways. However, I do think it is a good reference point, and a very interesting study of a time period that is so overly sentimentalized its almost impossible to find an accurate depiction.
Underground Comic(x)s
The choice of reading I made for the underground comics section of the course was "The Religious Experience of Phillip K. Dick" by Robert Crumb. In choosing this selection, I was quite surprised that Crumb would cover a subject like this in the way he did, as my only previous exposure to Crumb's work was his more graphic, sexual content. I think what surprised me was less the fact that he chose to depict the subject matter in a more realistic and less exaggerated and fetishized way, and more of the selection of the subject matter itself.
I had heard of this supposed experience of Phillip K. Dick's through various autobiographic programs made about him and his life, but for some reason I found the Crumb variation much more appropriate and even more successful in giving some credence to the experience that Dick had. Perhaps its the suspense of disbelief that comics allows the reader through drawing style and sequencing of time, over an over-representational and often cheesy re-enactment that comes with a television program, but for some reason while reading it through the lens of Crumb's drawings I found myself looking at Dick's experience with more respect and weight than I had previously given it. What is interesting about that aspect of it is that all of the weight and sincerity given to the experience has to come entirely from Crumb's drawings as the text is made entirely of the direct quotation of Dick's words about his experience. So there is effectively no direct dialogue happening between characters, other than through the third person narration provided by Dick himself.
What I found particularly striking about his style of drawing was just how much of it's influence I've seen in cartoons and drawing styles of 1990's. I'm well aware that Crumb was apart of many artists that had an influence on the era, but seeing the date that this comic was published (in 1986) made me realize just how far ahead of everyone else he was in terms of depicting this gritty, ugly yet stylish reality we all associate with the early 1990's now. Being a child during that time period and growing up on Nickelodeon's cartoons like Ren & Stimpy, Rocko's Modern Life, Doug, etc. it seems almost unavoidable that the artists creating those shows were looking a Crumb both in subject matter and style. Even now, with the types of animated shows you see on Adult Swim and Comedy Central, I don't think any of them would have been possible without Crumb breaking down a lot of the taboo barriers he did. So while I don't necessarily enjoy all of Crumbs work, I did particularly enjoy this comic, and do appreciate the talent he had as well as the barriers he broke for artists, and society at large, by holding a crude, ugly mirror to its face.
I had heard of this supposed experience of Phillip K. Dick's through various autobiographic programs made about him and his life, but for some reason I found the Crumb variation much more appropriate and even more successful in giving some credence to the experience that Dick had. Perhaps its the suspense of disbelief that comics allows the reader through drawing style and sequencing of time, over an over-representational and often cheesy re-enactment that comes with a television program, but for some reason while reading it through the lens of Crumb's drawings I found myself looking at Dick's experience with more respect and weight than I had previously given it. What is interesting about that aspect of it is that all of the weight and sincerity given to the experience has to come entirely from Crumb's drawings as the text is made entirely of the direct quotation of Dick's words about his experience. So there is effectively no direct dialogue happening between characters, other than through the third person narration provided by Dick himself.
What I found particularly striking about his style of drawing was just how much of it's influence I've seen in cartoons and drawing styles of 1990's. I'm well aware that Crumb was apart of many artists that had an influence on the era, but seeing the date that this comic was published (in 1986) made me realize just how far ahead of everyone else he was in terms of depicting this gritty, ugly yet stylish reality we all associate with the early 1990's now. Being a child during that time period and growing up on Nickelodeon's cartoons like Ren & Stimpy, Rocko's Modern Life, Doug, etc. it seems almost unavoidable that the artists creating those shows were looking a Crumb both in subject matter and style. Even now, with the types of animated shows you see on Adult Swim and Comedy Central, I don't think any of them would have been possible without Crumb breaking down a lot of the taboo barriers he did. So while I don't necessarily enjoy all of Crumbs work, I did particularly enjoy this comic, and do appreciate the talent he had as well as the barriers he broke for artists, and society at large, by holding a crude, ugly mirror to its face.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Maus - Art Speigelman
Maus, a two part graphic novel by Art Speigelman, stands very uniquely amongst the many stories that have been told about the holocaust. While the story does indeed chronicle the survival tale of a survivor, it does it through the lens of his child trying to understand his struggles, and coming to terms with his own difficulties with his father. The conversational back and forth between Art and his father created in me a much more personal connection with the story of the survivor than any that I've experienced through other media portrayals of holocaust survivors.
Though the story could have been told through any medium fairly successfully, as it is a very personal take on a very written about subject, I believe the medium of comics provided the chance for a visual interpretation that would not have been possible in literature, and would have been simplified and dumbed down in film. Using the visual metaphor of mice to represent the European Jews and cats to represent the SS and the German public was something that added a much deeper level of content to a mostly biographical narrative. Seeing the simplified faces of characters almost gave it a surreal quality in contrast with the brutal nature of the situation, which I think is true to the reality of the holocaust. Instead of being shown the brutality of what happened through photographic qualities, which I feel slowly desensitizes viewers to the truth of what happened, creating emotional tug through the simplified anthropomorphic animals allows the readers to stay engaged and stay empathetic to the situation of the characters throughout the story. It isn't overly dramaticized however, and for that I'm glad as I feel that would not have been appropriate for the type of storytelling Art used. The subtlety of describing the situations his father was faced with I think adds more ability to contemplate the effects a survivor would deal with in trying to carry on with their life.
The other point I believe adds a much more dimensional quality to Maus is the aspect of the story told unfiltered and biographically by Art about his constant struggle with his own father while learning about his story. Similar to Blankets, Art expresses his own feelings and emotions though the dialogues he has with his father and wife, occasionally breaking the forth wall. Particularly in part II, I think this puts an interesting perspective on the story. Towards the beginning of part II, Art speaks as the narrator talking directly to the reader as he is creating the second part of Maus. He describes the difficult questions he gets asked about the first volume of Maus after its release, as well as the weight of responsibility and self criticism he goes through in trying to finish the volume. Its obvious that the largely unspoken and untreated effects of the holocaust have leaked through in his father's treatment of Art growing up, and for this they have always had a tense relationship. By asking his father to detail each and every part of his experiences in the war, it both heightens these tensions, and also brings them into an examination by Art. This adds a level of depth that is much more connectable to most people, who for the most part remain detached from the intense suffering that happened in the holocaust. I especially can relate to this aspect of the story, as one of my closest friends has a father who was raised by holocaust survivors. Unfortunately it is common for most survivors to have raised their children in environments of abuse, and as such my friend's father as carried on such a legacy. Though Art's case isn't quite to the level of abuse, it is clearly not a positive relationship he shares with his father, and it is in this brutal honesty that Maus stands apart from many holocaust tales.
I think its fair to say from my response that I thoroughly enjoyed Maus, almost as much as Blankets, though that still sticks in me stronger due to the intense connection I have with the experiences of the characters. Maus is very similar in storytelling to Blankets, however I feel it is a little subtler, and in some ways more complex in the relationships of the characters. It is both frustrating to read because of the obviously frustrated relationship between Art and his father, and very empathetic to the situations of survivors and their attempts to live beyond the struggles of the holocaust. I think it has been critically lauded as long as it has for a reason, and I believe it will forever stand out amongst its medium and as a record of the horrible events that occurred in Germany until 1945.
Though the story could have been told through any medium fairly successfully, as it is a very personal take on a very written about subject, I believe the medium of comics provided the chance for a visual interpretation that would not have been possible in literature, and would have been simplified and dumbed down in film. Using the visual metaphor of mice to represent the European Jews and cats to represent the SS and the German public was something that added a much deeper level of content to a mostly biographical narrative. Seeing the simplified faces of characters almost gave it a surreal quality in contrast with the brutal nature of the situation, which I think is true to the reality of the holocaust. Instead of being shown the brutality of what happened through photographic qualities, which I feel slowly desensitizes viewers to the truth of what happened, creating emotional tug through the simplified anthropomorphic animals allows the readers to stay engaged and stay empathetic to the situation of the characters throughout the story. It isn't overly dramaticized however, and for that I'm glad as I feel that would not have been appropriate for the type of storytelling Art used. The subtlety of describing the situations his father was faced with I think adds more ability to contemplate the effects a survivor would deal with in trying to carry on with their life.
The other point I believe adds a much more dimensional quality to Maus is the aspect of the story told unfiltered and biographically by Art about his constant struggle with his own father while learning about his story. Similar to Blankets, Art expresses his own feelings and emotions though the dialogues he has with his father and wife, occasionally breaking the forth wall. Particularly in part II, I think this puts an interesting perspective on the story. Towards the beginning of part II, Art speaks as the narrator talking directly to the reader as he is creating the second part of Maus. He describes the difficult questions he gets asked about the first volume of Maus after its release, as well as the weight of responsibility and self criticism he goes through in trying to finish the volume. Its obvious that the largely unspoken and untreated effects of the holocaust have leaked through in his father's treatment of Art growing up, and for this they have always had a tense relationship. By asking his father to detail each and every part of his experiences in the war, it both heightens these tensions, and also brings them into an examination by Art. This adds a level of depth that is much more connectable to most people, who for the most part remain detached from the intense suffering that happened in the holocaust. I especially can relate to this aspect of the story, as one of my closest friends has a father who was raised by holocaust survivors. Unfortunately it is common for most survivors to have raised their children in environments of abuse, and as such my friend's father as carried on such a legacy. Though Art's case isn't quite to the level of abuse, it is clearly not a positive relationship he shares with his father, and it is in this brutal honesty that Maus stands apart from many holocaust tales.
I think its fair to say from my response that I thoroughly enjoyed Maus, almost as much as Blankets, though that still sticks in me stronger due to the intense connection I have with the experiences of the characters. Maus is very similar in storytelling to Blankets, however I feel it is a little subtler, and in some ways more complex in the relationships of the characters. It is both frustrating to read because of the obviously frustrated relationship between Art and his father, and very empathetic to the situations of survivors and their attempts to live beyond the struggles of the holocaust. I think it has been critically lauded as long as it has for a reason, and I believe it will forever stand out amongst its medium and as a record of the horrible events that occurred in Germany until 1945.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Blankets
The graphic novel "Blankets" by Craig Thompson is quite possibly one of the most personal and touching works I have ever read. I mean this in the context of all narrative media, and not just comics, which I think is an important distinction. There are things here, as is the case in "The Arrival" by Shaun Tan, that are simply not possible in other mediums of storytelling, and quite honestly enhance the directness of the experience far better than any other medium could. The personal quality of the drawing style, coupled with the hyperbolic, and fairly sparse (in context of the length of the work) word usage make the experience of Craig Thompson's life one that we do not have to adjust to our own experience; it becomes our experience.
To be fair, I am exaggerating a bit. This is only because the nature of the experiences Craig Thompson depicts so closely mimic my own (most obviously in name). I realize many people will not connect with the story as strongly as I did. However, it is impossible to not put yourself in his shoes because there is no barrier between his experience and his medium, or at least there is a diminished barrier. I feel often times novels may present a high barrier between the experiences of the character and the experience of the reader if the language choices are that which the reader is not used to or exposed to. This is obviously a generalization, as plenty of people connect with traditional novels more than other mediums of storytelling, however I feel it is becoming more difficult for people born in newer generations to connect with the characters in classic novels of old because of the great disparity in language, and cultural context. Ideally one would teach said things alongside the reading of the novel, however in most public (and even private) schools this is often left out due to time constraints and budget limitations. As such, I feel new mediums such as graphic novels and interactive mediums such as video games tend to present a more immediate personal connection with younger viewers. The trade off, of course, with mediums like video games and movies is that everything has to be condensed into a consumable amount of information, often restricted by time limits and attention spans. I feel this is where graphic novels fill in the gap between novels and movies, video games, and television. They contain the image-based accessibility and immediacy of movies and television, while allowing for the depth and dimension that is built over time with a novel.
I'm sure all of this is fairly obvious, and fairly treaded ground, but I think this became really apparent to me while reading "Blankets". The personal connection I developed with the story, I feel, would not have been as deep or as meaningful if it had been presented short hand in a movie or video game, and I feel like I wouldn't have been able to experience his wonderful interpretations of the very same experiences I've had in a novel. His struggle with his personal religion, his family, his own self-worth, I think might have come across as trite and more juvenile had it not had such expressive and metaphorical imagery to give it depth. Granted, I did feel it went over the top in some instances. The portion of the book that focused mainly on his relationship with Raina I didn't connect as strongly with, simply because I felt like it felt a little too idealized and not as developed as the rest of the book. Granted I understand his goal was to express how he felt in the moment, and for that I think it was very successful (also it probably doesn't help that I'm homosexual and that automatically creates a barrier in trying to understand that expression of love) but it just didn't feel as genuine or thought out as the rest of the book did.
Since this has basically become an essay, I would just like to summarize by saying the experience of reading "Blankets" was one I will hold dearly as a piece that both proved a medium's possibilities to me as well as creating a greater personal connection than most other pieces of literature or film have in quite a while. So I suppose a thank you is in order for directing this book to me.
To be fair, I am exaggerating a bit. This is only because the nature of the experiences Craig Thompson depicts so closely mimic my own (most obviously in name). I realize many people will not connect with the story as strongly as I did. However, it is impossible to not put yourself in his shoes because there is no barrier between his experience and his medium, or at least there is a diminished barrier. I feel often times novels may present a high barrier between the experiences of the character and the experience of the reader if the language choices are that which the reader is not used to or exposed to. This is obviously a generalization, as plenty of people connect with traditional novels more than other mediums of storytelling, however I feel it is becoming more difficult for people born in newer generations to connect with the characters in classic novels of old because of the great disparity in language, and cultural context. Ideally one would teach said things alongside the reading of the novel, however in most public (and even private) schools this is often left out due to time constraints and budget limitations. As such, I feel new mediums such as graphic novels and interactive mediums such as video games tend to present a more immediate personal connection with younger viewers. The trade off, of course, with mediums like video games and movies is that everything has to be condensed into a consumable amount of information, often restricted by time limits and attention spans. I feel this is where graphic novels fill in the gap between novels and movies, video games, and television. They contain the image-based accessibility and immediacy of movies and television, while allowing for the depth and dimension that is built over time with a novel.
I'm sure all of this is fairly obvious, and fairly treaded ground, but I think this became really apparent to me while reading "Blankets". The personal connection I developed with the story, I feel, would not have been as deep or as meaningful if it had been presented short hand in a movie or video game, and I feel like I wouldn't have been able to experience his wonderful interpretations of the very same experiences I've had in a novel. His struggle with his personal religion, his family, his own self-worth, I think might have come across as trite and more juvenile had it not had such expressive and metaphorical imagery to give it depth. Granted, I did feel it went over the top in some instances. The portion of the book that focused mainly on his relationship with Raina I didn't connect as strongly with, simply because I felt like it felt a little too idealized and not as developed as the rest of the book. Granted I understand his goal was to express how he felt in the moment, and for that I think it was very successful (also it probably doesn't help that I'm homosexual and that automatically creates a barrier in trying to understand that expression of love) but it just didn't feel as genuine or thought out as the rest of the book did.
Since this has basically become an essay, I would just like to summarize by saying the experience of reading "Blankets" was one I will hold dearly as a piece that both proved a medium's possibilities to me as well as creating a greater personal connection than most other pieces of literature or film have in quite a while. So I suppose a thank you is in order for directing this book to me.
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