Week 12: Comics by Women

            A couple years ago I had to write an analysis on Fun Home’s first chapter, Old Father, Old Artificer, which was provided by itself in a textbook. I remember being proud of the piece I wrote (though it’s not as good as my current writing), so I was looking forward to reading the whole novel and finally getting further into the context. This is what I wrote for the first chapter a few years ago:

            “The graphic memoir, Alison Bechdel's Old Father, Old Artificer, recalls Bechdel's father showing little emotion, with the occasional burst of anger, keeping up the appearance of the family, and more importantly, their house, by using his children to assist him in the process. To him, making the house look pleasing to others was a cover for his secret - his attraction to the high school students he taught. Within the memoir, Bechdel compares her father to Daedalus, whose craft led to the death of his son. At one point in the story, she writes herself starting to rebel against her father and the way he sees things. The memoir's comic format shows how the father was making the house almost like a labyrinth, and she wanted to get out.”

            This is still pretty accurate – Alison comes across things in her childhood, which she analyzes in an effort to shape her identity. However, her father doesn’t want her to end up like him, so he strives to keep her in the unassuming image he has for his family. Even though Alison eventually leaves the house for college, she is still caught up in trying to understand her father and trying to get on his level, while at the same time discovering her sexuality, which she tries to keep hidden from her family as well.

            

Week 11: Comics as Contemporary Literature

            David Mazzuchelli’s Asterios Polyp is a truly groundbreaking work in recent graphic novels.

            The story follows Asterios Polyp as he finds a way to understand his life after his divorce and losing his home, until he finally finds closure. Carrying only a few significant possessions with him – each with their own history – Asterios gradually gives them away. Scott McCloud’s review of the book remarks, “They work so well as markers of maturity, of unburdening, of selflessness, of acceptance of mortality, of putting the past behind him, of learning to value what works over theory, etc.; so harmonious and right that you could almost believe that the universe was ready to reward him. And then the lighter comes back alongside a bottle smashed over his head. Because that’s not the way the universe we live in works.”

            One thing that struck me about this novel was seeing how Mazzuchelli’s artistic decisions communicated the method of making comics, and vice versa. He employs a great variety of ways to communicate information throughout the entire story, yet it still holds consistency. This makes the process of reading and understanding the novel as a whole a very stimulating experience, especially when reading the hardcover.

Week 10: Manga and the Japanese Comics Tradition

I have mentioned in my earlier post regarding Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics, Osamu Tezuka’s method of juxtaposing his iconized characters within a highly rendered environment seemed to give life to his cartoons, gaining characteristics of realism by comparison. The characters became more relatable as a result. McCloud states, “This combination allows readers to mask themselves in a character and safely enter a sensually stimulating world. One set of lines to see. Another set of lines to be.”

Phoenix: Dawn, the first chapter of what Tezuka considers his life’s work, proves itself as an immersive experience. The Phoenix series as a whole follows an elusive phoenix as it travels back and forth in time, allowing Tezuka to incorporate historic and science fiction themes into his work. Each story is driven by the search for immortality, which can be obtained by drinking the phoenix’s blood.

Recalling Tezuka’s method of realism - along with Dawn being set in Japan’s Yayoi Era (300BC – 300AD, during which local governments were developing in Japan, and the country regained communication with China and Korea) – brought to mind Japan’s traditional woodblock prints. Highly detailed, showcasing the splendor of nature in engaging compositions and flat colors, these prints are highly distinctive and have inspired artists for many years. Looking at them as someone who knows little about their context, the prints seem to exude a dreamlike quality.

Hokusai, Amida Waterfall on the Kisokaido Road

Tezuka, who was also heavily influenced by Disney, learned to draw his characters in what he mentioned as a “stuffed-animal style.” I find this circle of influence very interesting, as Disney is known to be highly popular in Japan, while the United States is enamored with Japanese animation. Tezuka’s combination of styles and his works now hold prevalent cultural significance today.

Week 9: A Wide World of Comics

            Before I started to read Moebius’ Blueberry, a couple questions came to mind:

• ·      “How can the French or European tradition of comics apply to what seems to be a narrative set in the United States’ Western Era? Wouldn’t that be like how Craig Thompson, an American artist, set the narrative for Habibi in a ‘mythical landscape’ resembling the Middle East?” I assume that Moebius has extensively researched this specific location and its history.

• ·      “That said, taking into account the fact that I know little about the Western Era, would Blueberry, by a French artist, influence what I know and teach me more about it?” I don’t think it would be any different from just researching that time period today. Moebius may include aspects of his culture by way of his comic tradition, but I don’t think it would get in the way of the story’s authenticity.

It turns out a whole section in the front of the book is dedicated to the history that surrounds the narrative, including pictures of notable figures in the story. This can be very useful, as this segment can be used as a reference for the characters, settings, and even the conflicts of that time. The viewer can get an inside look at a character and grasp what their intentions are. However, they can also skip ahead to the story, and try to gain an understanding from the narrative itself. That’s what I did for this reading.

            Unfortunately, my lack of knowledge about this era may have attributed to how I felt about the story – I just couldn’t get invested in it. Maybe this just isn’t the kind of narrative I like. Additionally, the way each page is laid out is too congested with information for me, but I can definitely see what there is to appreciate about Moebius’ work.

            As you can see, the settings used are so immersive and vibrant that it was easy to get distracted from the dialogue. It’s too bad that all these word bubbles are imperative to the story, because there’s so much to read already. I read from another student’s blog that Moebius’ less dialogue-heavy comics are more impressive, and I would like to see those.