I’m really enjoying Scott McCloud’s take on and passion for graphic novels (blood in the gutters, the three points of the icon triangle, etc.) I think it’s an excellent way to explore and analyze the comic tradition. I was particularly interested in Chapter 3, and its overview of the six types of transitions, and the pronounced difference between Western and Eastern comic styles.
A natural question that occurred to me as I read was how Gene Yang’s ABC would score using these parameters, since he’s straddling the two worlds of an American upbringing and Asian tradition. (Our other book, Heartbreak Soup, already appears in the charts). Does he skew toward the Western style of heavy emphasis on Type 2 (Action to Action) or more toward the Type 1 (Moment to Moment) and Type 5 (Aspect to Aspect) Manga-style comic form?
I tried to “score” the first chapter and it seemed that Yang was tilting toward the latter, as I counted points in both Type 5 and Type 1, but the majority of points were in Type 2.
After this, I flipped through the book, and found much more of the moment to moment transition (the Danny looking in the mirror splash pages are one of many examples). Yang seems to especially enjoy the “full-on” view of a character’s face and a few subtle facial changes over 2-3 panels. Because of all this, I would expect Yang to score as an “Eastern-style” artist using this system, although of course he’s much more of a crossover storyteller.
I look forward to hearing people’s reactions to McCloud tomorrow.
Showing posts with label Gene Yang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gene Yang. Show all posts
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Culture Clash?
Given that both of the graphic novels we have read thus far this semester depict different cultures I thought it would be interesting to consider the ways in which Yang and Hernandez use the form to portray racial stereotypes.
In American Born Chinese, Yang explores racial stereotypes and a journey to self-acceptance. His novel confronts and overcomes stereotyping through his characters' self-discovery. The Monkey King, Jin, and Wei-Chen all struggle with accepting themselves because of rejection from the world around them. The graphic novel, as a form, allows Yang to illustrate the change that takes place when Jin denies his Chinese heritage and becomes Danny in a way that a traditional novel could not. The visuals provided reinforce the positive theme of the novel by syncing up the internal and emotional changes the characters experience with the external appearance of the characters.
In Heartbreak Soup, Hernandez introduces the character of Howard Miller in the chapter entitled "An American in Palomar" in order to explore the way in which Palomarians are seen by outsiders. Up until this chapter we are focused on the characters interactions with each other and are not concerned with the influence of people outside of Palomar, aside from brief references to the States scattered throughout. Palomar still remains isolated from the prejudice of outsiders. Upon Howard Miller's arrival the reader is forced to step outside of the bubble of daily life in Palomar and to see the characters through a foreigners eyes. Miller has come to Palomar merely to exploit the inhabitants in order to garner recognition and fame as a photographer. Being privy to Miller's true motives, the reader is placed in a position to immediately dislike him. Through the introduction of Howard Miller, Hernandez illustrates not only the various prejudices Miller brings in but also the prejudices held by some of the Palomarians against Americans.
In American Born Chinese, Yang explores racial stereotypes and a journey to self-acceptance. His novel confronts and overcomes stereotyping through his characters' self-discovery. The Monkey King, Jin, and Wei-Chen all struggle with accepting themselves because of rejection from the world around them. The graphic novel, as a form, allows Yang to illustrate the change that takes place when Jin denies his Chinese heritage and becomes Danny in a way that a traditional novel could not. The visuals provided reinforce the positive theme of the novel by syncing up the internal and emotional changes the characters experience with the external appearance of the characters.
In Heartbreak Soup, Hernandez introduces the character of Howard Miller in the chapter entitled "An American in Palomar" in order to explore the way in which Palomarians are seen by outsiders. Up until this chapter we are focused on the characters interactions with each other and are not concerned with the influence of people outside of Palomar, aside from brief references to the States scattered throughout. Palomar still remains isolated from the prejudice of outsiders. Upon Howard Miller's arrival the reader is forced to step outside of the bubble of daily life in Palomar and to see the characters through a foreigners eyes. Miller has come to Palomar merely to exploit the inhabitants in order to garner recognition and fame as a photographer. Being privy to Miller's true motives, the reader is placed in a position to immediately dislike him. Through the introduction of Howard Miller, Hernandez illustrates not only the various prejudices Miller brings in but also the prejudices held by some of the Palomarians against Americans.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Teaching kids stereotypes
Of all that we've discussed surrounding "American Born Chinese," I keep returning to Yang's question, "Does acknowledging a stereotype perpetuate it?" As Yang points out, Chin Kee--the most in-your-face stereotype used--was a tool to further his underlying morals and themes. "I wouldn't have introduced him if I weren't going to behead him," he explains. The shock value was intentional, and effective. It served its purpose. But once a character is created, there is the potential for him to be misused, taken out of context.
So how should stereotypes be addressed? It seems to me that the obvious answer is that it is better to proclaim ownership of the stereotypes, as Yang as done, and turn them with the purpose of creating awareness. But how many people learn from the reclaimed stereotype, and how many only see the "pee-pee in your coke" joke they learned as elementary school students? Will the number of people reading A.B.C. outweigh the tide of people who simply see Chin Kee, or one of his many alter egos in Oliphant's cartoon or cartoons or John Hughes-land?
I think the solution is already being undertaken--considering A.B.C. a young adult book, and making an audience from a generation full of children who are still forming concepts of identity, both for themselves--claiming their own cultures--and for the world at large. Kids learn early on the power of name-calling--it is only logical to teach the power of the "name" itself.
So how should stereotypes be addressed? It seems to me that the obvious answer is that it is better to proclaim ownership of the stereotypes, as Yang as done, and turn them with the purpose of creating awareness. But how many people learn from the reclaimed stereotype, and how many only see the "pee-pee in your coke" joke they learned as elementary school students? Will the number of people reading A.B.C. outweigh the tide of people who simply see Chin Kee, or one of his many alter egos in Oliphant's cartoon or cartoons or John Hughes-land?
I think the solution is already being undertaken--considering A.B.C. a young adult book, and making an audience from a generation full of children who are still forming concepts of identity, both for themselves--claiming their own cultures--and for the world at large. Kids learn early on the power of name-calling--it is only logical to teach the power of the "name" itself.
The Importance of the Visual Aspects of the Text
I noticed that a few others in the class posted on the visual elements that accompany a graphic novel. Being completely new to the genre, "American Born Chinese" was my first expereience with this type of novel. I was surprised at how much this literary type resembled a story board for a film. Just to clarify what a story board is, it's a visual representation of what the camera will "see." Thus, it is a series of images usually done in frames (or panels) with a caption included.
This aspect of the novel was key in understanding Jin's relationship with his ethnic identity through visual means. Without the pictures the text would not carry the same meanings. In the first section of Jin's story, he tells us of his visits to the herbalist with his mother. The story in the panels plays out like a film scene, and is most comparable to a story board sequence. The boxes of text can be imagined as a "voice over." Frame 1 (pg. 27) can be viewed as an establishing shot, giving Jin's story a setting and developing a visual relationship to the herbalists wife. Just as in film, or as the picture would be dispalyed on the film's story board, the words are not solely significant to the scene. The herbalist's wife towers over Jin. He sits in the far back of the frame and appears very tiny and very child like with his toy. The wife is in the front of the frame, dominating the image. The next frame is a close up of what she is doing. The words are there to provide the reader with context, but in this one example the pictures not only speak for themselves, but are essential in portraying the situation.
Thus it seems evident that the words and pictures function on both an independent and dependent level. The words guide the images, and the images can also function as seperate entities. This relationship is clearly displayed on pg. 32. In this sequence Jin's isolation from the others is evident in four panels that do not have any words. The middle one, like a story board frame is a "long shot" of Jin. He is completely alienated from the other children's "close ups" in the three panels above his.
In recognizing these similarities that "American Born Chinese" had with a film story board, It became more obvious that the images in the graphic novel are just as important and in some cases even more significant than the words.
This aspect of the novel was key in understanding Jin's relationship with his ethnic identity through visual means. Without the pictures the text would not carry the same meanings. In the first section of Jin's story, he tells us of his visits to the herbalist with his mother. The story in the panels plays out like a film scene, and is most comparable to a story board sequence. The boxes of text can be imagined as a "voice over." Frame 1 (pg. 27) can be viewed as an establishing shot, giving Jin's story a setting and developing a visual relationship to the herbalists wife. Just as in film, or as the picture would be dispalyed on the film's story board, the words are not solely significant to the scene. The herbalist's wife towers over Jin. He sits in the far back of the frame and appears very tiny and very child like with his toy. The wife is in the front of the frame, dominating the image. The next frame is a close up of what she is doing. The words are there to provide the reader with context, but in this one example the pictures not only speak for themselves, but are essential in portraying the situation.
Thus it seems evident that the words and pictures function on both an independent and dependent level. The words guide the images, and the images can also function as seperate entities. This relationship is clearly displayed on pg. 32. In this sequence Jin's isolation from the others is evident in four panels that do not have any words. The middle one, like a story board frame is a "long shot" of Jin. He is completely alienated from the other children's "close ups" in the three panels above his.
In recognizing these similarities that "American Born Chinese" had with a film story board, It became more obvious that the images in the graphic novel are just as important and in some cases even more significant than the words.
Friday, August 31, 2007
A Kiss Is Just a Kiss?
Continuing with Monday's discussion of romance in graphic novels, I would like to examine the implications of the kiss between Jin and Suzy in American Born Chinese (188.1). The kiss comes about after Suzy shares her tale of rejection by a former friend that occurred over the weekend, and how events like these lead her to believe the degrading comments directed toward her by their classmates. Similarly, Jin believes that he is not good enough for Amelia because one of their peers tells him so. It is arguably the most tender moment in the book; Suzy has shared her deepest insecurities with the one person she knows will understand, and Jin is able to relate more than ever at this moment. However, this does not explain why he kisses her. It was not exactly something that has been building up for a long time. He had never expressed any interest in her; in fact, at the beginning of the novel he bemoans the fact that they were always associated with each other due to their Asian backgrounds. In addition, Suzy is his best friend's girlfriend. Jin must know how much this would hurt Wei-Chen. However, what he says in defense of his betrayal is even more hurtful. Wei-Chen tries to be reasonable with Jin, but Jin's response is nothing short of mean and cruel. The worst part is that he eventually believes the things he said to his friend, that Wei-Chen was not good enough for Suzy and that she deserved better. This is what ultimately leads to his transformation into Danny. By betraying his best friend, he has finally forfeited his soul.
I am still at somewhat of a loss as to why Jin kissed Suzy. One could chalk it up to hormones, but I do not believe this to be the case. This seems to be his moment of transformation, even more than when he is physically transformed into Danny. It is after this kiss that he is so mean to Wei-Chen. Perhaps he was trying to get revenge on the people who have been so mean and hurtful to him by hurting those whom he believed were not capable of hurting him back. Adolescence is a strange thing, and the obstacles that Jin, Suzy, and Wei-Chen had to face because of their Asian-American status only added to the already numerous complications.
I am still at somewhat of a loss as to why Jin kissed Suzy. One could chalk it up to hormones, but I do not believe this to be the case. This seems to be his moment of transformation, even more than when he is physically transformed into Danny. It is after this kiss that he is so mean to Wei-Chen. Perhaps he was trying to get revenge on the people who have been so mean and hurtful to him by hurting those whom he believed were not capable of hurting him back. Adolescence is a strange thing, and the obstacles that Jin, Suzy, and Wei-Chen had to face because of their Asian-American status only added to the already numerous complications.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Clap clap clap clap clap
As another student fairly new to comics and graphic novels, I'm eager to address another stylistic element of the media. While each section of ABC is distinguished and introduced with a pictoral stamp, Chin-Kee is further introduced on page 43 in a television-like frame. The allusion to television continues whenever Chin-Kee is present, as many frames are bordered with audience cues to clap or laugh.
I know we touched on this idea in class briefly, how text reads as part of the image, but I often find the clapping and laughing in Chin-Kee's frames excessive. One could argue that the repetition strengthens the satire, or that Yang references television to further attack the John Hughes depiction of Asian Americans. I am unconvinced, however, that all cues are properly attached to scenes. I would like to know, particularly from those fluent in stylistic elements of comics, if this is a valid gripe or if I'm overextending my analysis as a reader. Should I really care where these clap clap claps and these ha ha has occur? Should I rather treat the cues as a unit and find an overall meaning instead of weighing them with (or against) each scene?
I find one particular misplacement of these cues to occur on page 198, the scene where Jin is fully realized as Danny. Visually, I suppose, the border of claps is engaging; I look at the repetition and think that more is better than less, that Yang is telling me to look here and see something I don't already know. The problem I have with this scene, however, is that the claps don't do enough to be indispensable. That is, I could interpret the scene without them. When is text as image overbearing? When does more become too much? Does anyone feel like their head is being beat with a pounding, pounding repetitive force that is pounding so loudly they almost forgot their heart was pounding too? I'll rephrase once more: when does art become distraction?
I know we touched on this idea in class briefly, how text reads as part of the image, but I often find the clapping and laughing in Chin-Kee's frames excessive. One could argue that the repetition strengthens the satire, or that Yang references television to further attack the John Hughes depiction of Asian Americans. I am unconvinced, however, that all cues are properly attached to scenes. I would like to know, particularly from those fluent in stylistic elements of comics, if this is a valid gripe or if I'm overextending my analysis as a reader. Should I really care where these clap clap claps and these ha ha has occur? Should I rather treat the cues as a unit and find an overall meaning instead of weighing them with (or against) each scene?
I find one particular misplacement of these cues to occur on page 198, the scene where Jin is fully realized as Danny. Visually, I suppose, the border of claps is engaging; I look at the repetition and think that more is better than less, that Yang is telling me to look here and see something I don't already know. The problem I have with this scene, however, is that the claps don't do enough to be indispensable. That is, I could interpret the scene without them. When is text as image overbearing? When does more become too much? Does anyone feel like their head is being beat with a pounding, pounding repetitive force that is pounding so loudly they almost forgot their heart was pounding too? I'll rephrase once more: when does art become distraction?
Gene Yang in DC on September 29
For info on Gene Luen Yang's appearance at the National Book Festival between 7th & 14th Streets on September 29, click here!
Monkey King Mania
I thought the tale of the Monkey King was one of the more fascinating pieces of "American Born Chinese," and the weaving of this into the narrative added a vital mythological element to the novel.
Personally, having lived in Asia (Thailand specifically) for many years, I was familiar with Hanuman, the Monkey God of the Ramakien epic, but after some research, I found that Sun Wu-Kung, or the Monkey King, was another legend from the Chinese epic novel, Journey to the West.
It seems that Gene Yang either heard a particular version of the tale or adapted the pieces of the story which he remembered, adding or augmenting as he saw fit. I'd be interested in finding out whether the tale that he portrayed was a faithful representation of what he had heard, or if he tweaked the legend to fit his novel. Among the details that I found in my research were that the Monkey King first becomes angry after he was given the job of "stable keeper" by the Jade Emperor and that he is named the "greatest sage" before he gets into trouble, is challenged to outrun the hand, and gets thrown under the mountain by the Buddha.
I found a site which includes a 100-panel novelization of the Monkey King here - http://www.china-on-site.com/pages/comic/1.php . It seemed to be the most comprehensive, and most befitting the "graphic novel" nature of our course.
Personally, having lived in Asia (Thailand specifically) for many years, I was familiar with Hanuman, the Monkey God of the Ramakien epic, but after some research, I found that Sun Wu-Kung, or the Monkey King, was another legend from the Chinese epic novel, Journey to the West.
It seems that Gene Yang either heard a particular version of the tale or adapted the pieces of the story which he remembered, adding or augmenting as he saw fit. I'd be interested in finding out whether the tale that he portrayed was a faithful representation of what he had heard, or if he tweaked the legend to fit his novel. Among the details that I found in my research were that the Monkey King first becomes angry after he was given the job of "stable keeper" by the Jade Emperor and that he is named the "greatest sage" before he gets into trouble, is challenged to outrun the hand, and gets thrown under the mountain by the Buddha.
I found a site which includes a 100-panel novelization of the Monkey King here - http://www.china-on-site.com/pages/comic/1.php . It seemed to be the most comprehensive, and most befitting the "graphic novel" nature of our course.
Bam!
As a newcomer to reading comics and graphic novels, but an avid reader of traditional novels, I couldn't help but use American Born Chinese as an opportunity to compare the two types of literary media. Particularly in American Born Chinese, I noticed that the graphic novel medium seemed well suited to a story based so much in physicality.
Many of the qualities that are emphasized and transformations that are underwent within the novel are physical: the monkey king, disdaining his monkey smell and bare feet, becomes tall and more humanoid. Jin, under pressure to conform, first perms his hair, then changes physical form to become the blond Danny. When the true identity of Chin-Kee is revealed, he is literally beheaded and transformed.
Clearly, all of these transformations could be conveyed via narrative in the more traditional novel format, but I think some of their immediacy would be lost. It's said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but the information that a picture conveys is assimilated by the mind in a much different way than the information conveyed by a string of words. Words come one at a time, producing a cumulative store of knowledge. Pictures, on the other hand, force the viewer to assimilate multiple different pieces of information simultaneously. Thus, in pictures, these physical transformations are lent more of an effect of occurring in "real" time, than if they had been described by words.
This style works really well for conveying the "bam" of these physical transformations. I find this really exciting-- in some ways it makes me think a lot about the multi-level assimilation of infomration demanded by more avant-guarde styles of poetry that create intense and simaltaeneous impressions on the intellectual and the sonic or visual planes. It also leads me to wonder about the differing perceptual styles of people who prefer graphic novels versus those of people who are more drawn to eclusivley text-based works of literature. I'm excited about continuing to think about the perceptual experience of this type of literature!
Many of the qualities that are emphasized and transformations that are underwent within the novel are physical: the monkey king, disdaining his monkey smell and bare feet, becomes tall and more humanoid. Jin, under pressure to conform, first perms his hair, then changes physical form to become the blond Danny. When the true identity of Chin-Kee is revealed, he is literally beheaded and transformed.
Clearly, all of these transformations could be conveyed via narrative in the more traditional novel format, but I think some of their immediacy would be lost. It's said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but the information that a picture conveys is assimilated by the mind in a much different way than the information conveyed by a string of words. Words come one at a time, producing a cumulative store of knowledge. Pictures, on the other hand, force the viewer to assimilate multiple different pieces of information simultaneously. Thus, in pictures, these physical transformations are lent more of an effect of occurring in "real" time, than if they had been described by words.
This style works really well for conveying the "bam" of these physical transformations. I find this really exciting-- in some ways it makes me think a lot about the multi-level assimilation of infomration demanded by more avant-guarde styles of poetry that create intense and simaltaeneous impressions on the intellectual and the sonic or visual planes. It also leads me to wonder about the differing perceptual styles of people who prefer graphic novels versus those of people who are more drawn to eclusivley text-based works of literature. I'm excited about continuing to think about the perceptual experience of this type of literature!
Tea For Two
Maybe I just love the Robo Happy shirt and the pants hiked up to his chest, but there must be other reasons I find Wei Chen to be the most interesting character in American Born Chinese. Sadly, he gets the short shrift at the novel's end, giving the conclusion a perfunctory feel.
For the sake of simplicity I would like to focus on Wei Chen's role within to specific contexts (that's not to say others do not exist): 1. Judeo-Christian mythology; and 2. The experiences of the children of 1st generation immigrants. In the allegorical/literal world that Gene Yang has created in American Born Chinese, these categories are not mutually exclusive, but rather work together to deal with the complexities of assimilation. In order to address the connection in its most basic form, it is probably best to consider the idea of "Rebellion against the father."
Though it surely has precedent in traditions that pre-date Christianity, perhaps the most enduring example of filial disobedience that we can reference is Lucifer's rebellion against heaven as recounted by John Milton in his epic poem Paradise Lost. Wei Chen refusing his heavenly duties as emissary of of Tze-Yo-Tzuh and servant to mankind (218-220) certainly has Luciferian undertones. (See also the angels Bartleby and Loki in Kevin Smith's Dogma for another recent take on the tradition).
If we take Wei Chen out of the celestial realm and consider his rebellion against the father in literal terms, we get a pretty compelling example of the type of trajectory that the lives of children of Asian immigrants can take. Jin's rebellion on the other hand is more passive if not more complete. He adopts hairstyles, speech patterns, and love interests consistent with those of his caucasian peers. Wei Chen, however, rages against a system of cultural values rather than appearances. Before falling from the heavens, he tells his father that he will use the mortal world for his own pleasure (220.1) and when we see him next it looks as if he has fulfilled that oath (228-229). I only wish that when he and Jin had a chance to talk again, they could have taught one another more than the best place to find good milk tea.
For the sake of simplicity I would like to focus on Wei Chen's role within to specific contexts (that's not to say others do not exist): 1. Judeo-Christian mythology; and 2. The experiences of the children of 1st generation immigrants. In the allegorical/literal world that Gene Yang has created in American Born Chinese, these categories are not mutually exclusive, but rather work together to deal with the complexities of assimilation. In order to address the connection in its most basic form, it is probably best to consider the idea of "Rebellion against the father."
Though it surely has precedent in traditions that pre-date Christianity, perhaps the most enduring example of filial disobedience that we can reference is Lucifer's rebellion against heaven as recounted by John Milton in his epic poem Paradise Lost. Wei Chen refusing his heavenly duties as emissary of of Tze-Yo-Tzuh and servant to mankind (218-220) certainly has Luciferian undertones. (See also the angels Bartleby and Loki in Kevin Smith's Dogma for another recent take on the tradition).
If we take Wei Chen out of the celestial realm and consider his rebellion against the father in literal terms, we get a pretty compelling example of the type of trajectory that the lives of children of Asian immigrants can take. Jin's rebellion on the other hand is more passive if not more complete. He adopts hairstyles, speech patterns, and love interests consistent with those of his caucasian peers. Wei Chen, however, rages against a system of cultural values rather than appearances. Before falling from the heavens, he tells his father that he will use the mortal world for his own pleasure (220.1) and when we see him next it looks as if he has fulfilled that oath (228-229). I only wish that when he and Jin had a chance to talk again, they could have taught one another more than the best place to find good milk tea.
Nitpicking
Something more substantial to follow, but for the moment, I just have three tiny problems with the American Born Chinese. I'm sure most people were able to get past these little glitches; they in no way affect the arcs of the individual storylines, but seeing issues that should have been resolved during the editorial process make their way into the published version, shaded my reception of the text as a whole.
Maybe I'm being too harsh a critic. Maybe I'm just nitpicking. Or I could be completely wrong. Please let me know.
1. On 59.4 The Monkey King is told to report to Ao-Jun, Dragon King of the Western Sea for execution. When we get to 61.3, however, the Monkey King has arrived in the kingdom of Ao-Kuang, Dragon King of the Eastern Sea. That's fine. Maybe he just decided to make a pit stop there first; but on 62.1, Ao-Kang takes credit for sending the invitation and initiates the execution.
2. As indicated by the captions in many of its panels, Jin Yang's storyline is told in the first person. This perspective is sustained by Jin's presence in all of the panels EXCEPT for 99-102 when Amelia and Wei Chen are alone together.
3. I thought a weak case for irony was made on 25.1-2, when Jin recounts how his parents arrived at the same airport within a week of each other then met in the library at SF State a year and a half later. Maybe had they been on the same flight or from the same village in China . . .
OK maybe I really am splitting hairs here. I thought Yang was succesful on many levels (more on that in my next post), but these surface blemishes kept me itching even while enjoying his deft handling of deeper issues.
Maybe I'm being too harsh a critic. Maybe I'm just nitpicking. Or I could be completely wrong. Please let me know.
1. On 59.4 The Monkey King is told to report to Ao-Jun, Dragon King of the Western Sea for execution. When we get to 61.3, however, the Monkey King has arrived in the kingdom of Ao-Kuang, Dragon King of the Eastern Sea. That's fine. Maybe he just decided to make a pit stop there first; but on 62.1, Ao-Kang takes credit for sending the invitation and initiates the execution.
2. As indicated by the captions in many of its panels, Jin Yang's storyline is told in the first person. This perspective is sustained by Jin's presence in all of the panels EXCEPT for 99-102 when Amelia and Wei Chen are alone together.
3. I thought a weak case for irony was made on 25.1-2, when Jin recounts how his parents arrived at the same airport within a week of each other then met in the library at SF State a year and a half later. Maybe had they been on the same flight or from the same village in China . . .
OK maybe I really am splitting hairs here. I thought Yang was succesful on many levels (more on that in my next post), but these surface blemishes kept me itching even while enjoying his deft handling of deeper issues.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
American Born Chinese?
I was just wondering how everyone (who has finished the book already) felt about the ending, and the way the three stories were connected? I liked the fact that Yang did try to connect them, and create that sense of interconnectivity to add depth to the story, and give all three storylines relevance, but I'm still on the fence as to how I feel about execution. It sort of feels like it was a little rushed to me - like there should have maybe been at least one more chapter to each storyline. Any thoughts?
Sunday, August 26, 2007
...If This Be To Increase the Sum Total of Human Wisdom!
Welcome to the blog for the American University course LIT 308/608, Studies in Genre: The Graphic Novel. Our course title is problematic in various ways, and I invite you to reflect on both its shortcomings and its accuracies. To help focus our thinking about the potential meaning behind the ungainly term "graphic novel," I encourage you to follow this link to a copy of Eddie Campbell's Graphic Novel Manifesto, a not-altogether-serious document that is also not altogether kidding. One point in particular deserves special notice:
6. The goal of the graphic novelist is to take the form of the comic book, which has become an embarrassment, and raise it to a more ambitious and meaningful level. This normally involves expanding its size, but we should avoid getting into arguments about permissible size. If an artist offers a set of short stories as his new graphic novel, (as Eisner did with A Contract with God) we should not descend to quibbling. We should only ask whether his new graphic novel is a good or bad set of short stories. If he or she uses characters that appear in another place, such as Jimmy Corrigan's various appearances outside of the core book, or Gilbert Hernandez' etc. or even characters that we do not want to allow into our "secret society," we shall not dismiss them on this account. If his book no longer looks anything like comic books we should not quibble as to that either. We should only ask whether it increases the sum total of human wisdom.Let's try to keep that last question in mind as we interrogate our various graphic novels this semester, starting with Gene Yang's American Born Chinese. (And it couldn't hurt to read some comments from Yang himself on his publisher's website; click here to do so, and scroll down to see Yang's comments on the origins of his story and some additional cartooning featuring the Monkey King. You should click here also, for Yang's discussion of the use of stereotypes in his work.)
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