Almost in direct contrast with Sacco, Bechdel uses literary devices to her advantage in Fun Home and brings the reader into her non-fiction reality in an effective and seemingly effortless manner. The juxtapositions and dualities of her and her father, literary allusions and analogies in literature, and metaphors of snakes/mud/etc all effectively advance Bechdel’s memoir without challenging its believability. [Perhaps it is unfair to categorize Safe Area Gorazde in the same context as Fun Home, however, as the former is literary journalism and the latter memoir. For a reader, it’s much easier to enter the “truth” in a world of someone’s childhood than in a political and influential war-zone. But if it’s important to recognize the works’ difference in categorization, it’s equally important to note why shared (or singular) literary devices work well in one context and not the other.]
Bechdel uses one particular graphic device - the retracing of photographs - to help verify her story’s alignment with reality. The retraced photographs that appear at the beginning of every chapter reinforce the “real” people that Bechdel depicts. The comics inside the chapter are likely drawn to depict reality, but the stroke and form of the characters are more comic-like and steer away from the painstaking details that appear in the photographs. Bechdel didn’t need to present her non-fiction work in a strictly realistic manner (in fact, Bechdel goes so far as to give characters lines and dots for mouths, even when they speak!) Instead, Bechdel uses the comic form to her advantage, adding in retraced photographs only when prompted by her discoveries in the story. Photographs that Bechdel discovers of her family, father and Roy (47.6, 100-101, 102.1-3, 120) help tell her story alongside her narrative, strengthening the reader’s perception of the characters and adding credibility to Fun Home overall.
But where photographs work well in Fun Home, SAG lacks any realistic variations in its overtly comic form. If memory serves, Sacco doesn’t employ a single image or character in photographic realism. Even when given the chance to present one small image (the television screen in 122.2) to mirror actual images from the war, Sacco still employs a more comic-like style to portray “reality” and leaves me wondering whether or not he overlooked an opportunity to help his case of the “real truth.” In the end, this is just one of many devices that Sacco seems to have misused or, in this case, forgotten altogether.
Showing posts with label Sacco/Safe Area Gorazde. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sacco/Safe Area Gorazde. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Sacco's Comic Essay
We spent a lot of time discussing Sacco's choice of form in class. It left me wondering about how another form may have looked. I think his most comparable alternative would have been a photo essay. He could balance words and images in the same way that he did with comics, coupling his own experiences with his interviews and journalistic "file photos" of the tragedies in Gorazde and the surrounding region.
This would certainly deal with the issues of "The Real Truth," as we also discussed. Photos have a reputation of being more accurate, more representative of the "facts." However, they lack many of the benefits of drawings, especially those as intricate and evocative as Sacco's. A drawing--though it may not be as "accurate" as a photograph--is able to integrate the feelings and experiences of an event in a way that photographs can rarely reach. The exaggerated features of Sacco's friends and acquaintances may not be photorealistic, but they emphasize the horror of what they've seen, the hardships they've survived, and the overall intensity of emotion they have to live with. Using comics to tell their stories is like the fairly contemporary split between journalism and creative nonfiction. We can't always trust our memories, but I think that how we remember something speaks to the event and its impact more than a series of largely impersonal photos.
This brings up another important difference between a photo essay and what we have here. I think it's important to note the symbolism of a photo being taken, the camera a physical barrier between the photographer and the subject. Sacco spoke to the awkwardness of sketching or taking notes during some interviews, and how instead, he would often rush to a private space and scribble everything down afterward. Imagine if he was reliant on a camera, and was forced to pull one out with every interview--I very much doubt that the (mostly) trusting relationships he had would have been the same. Instead, I imagine a reception more along the lines of Howard Miller's in "An American in Palomar," when they found out his true motivations. I think that this encapsulates the most important effect of Sacco's choice of form--the intimacy of a drawing, and how much closer it brings documenter to documentee.
This would certainly deal with the issues of "The Real Truth," as we also discussed. Photos have a reputation of being more accurate, more representative of the "facts." However, they lack many of the benefits of drawings, especially those as intricate and evocative as Sacco's. A drawing--though it may not be as "accurate" as a photograph--is able to integrate the feelings and experiences of an event in a way that photographs can rarely reach. The exaggerated features of Sacco's friends and acquaintances may not be photorealistic, but they emphasize the horror of what they've seen, the hardships they've survived, and the overall intensity of emotion they have to live with. Using comics to tell their stories is like the fairly contemporary split between journalism and creative nonfiction. We can't always trust our memories, but I think that how we remember something speaks to the event and its impact more than a series of largely impersonal photos.
This brings up another important difference between a photo essay and what we have here. I think it's important to note the symbolism of a photo being taken, the camera a physical barrier between the photographer and the subject. Sacco spoke to the awkwardness of sketching or taking notes during some interviews, and how instead, he would often rush to a private space and scribble everything down afterward. Imagine if he was reliant on a camera, and was forced to pull one out with every interview--I very much doubt that the (mostly) trusting relationships he had would have been the same. Instead, I imagine a reception more along the lines of Howard Miller's in "An American in Palomar," when they found out his true motivations. I think that this encapsulates the most important effect of Sacco's choice of form--the intimacy of a drawing, and how much closer it brings documenter to documentee.
When Literary Devices Weaken -or- The Literary Journalism that Chose to Echo
On first read, the prologue in Safe Area Gorazde introduced me to Sacco as a journalist and placed me in the heart of the town - character and setting all at once. When cycling back through pages of SAG, however, the prologue hits me hard. The "Real Truth" becomes heavily weighted as a device of Sacco's narrative, almost as if Sacco is heading off questions of "truth" and "non-fiction" that are inevitable. By opening the novel with the shady "counterfeit" (see Justin’s post “Truthfully…”), Sacco sets up an interesting juxtaposition for the "real truth" he's about to detail. And this is where my problem lies – if Sacco's "real truth" is as such, why would he need to employ a literary device to help characterize it as true? Why would a journalist use the first two pages of a report to spotlight nonfiction vs. fiction and the issue of reliability if he knows that his account is a truthful report? Sacco knew that “real truth” would be at issue in SAG’s creative nonfiction form, but his attempt to dismiss the concerns in the prologue only makes the pages that follow more questionable.
Further, Sacco depicts the stranger in manner of the hard-boiled – a largely fictionalized genre which fits easier into the world of comics than the real-life Sacco does himself. In contrast to Sacco and the townspeople that befriend Sacco, the movements of the stranger are stiff and mechanical (consider scenes like 24.3, 61.3 or 102.2) and help separate the “fictional” stranger from the “real” people in the prologue. Add in the line that the stranger’s “dreams told him” (ii.4) he wouldn’t be injured in the war, and the stranger becomes an overly-fictionalized, dreamlike device who serves to balance truth. But, again, is it necessary for “real” non-fiction to define itself against fiction?
When considering the prologue as a literary device, it’s necessary to consider the rest of SAG’s construction, too. Repetition of themes, focus on lifestyles and consumerism, structure of the narrative, etc. all define SAG as a creative non-fiction or literary journalism piece, rather than a clear-cut journalist account. And while this is something the reader knows from the start given the graphic novel format, it’s interesting how many of these devices weaken SAG as a whole and lessen the impact of Sacco’s message.
Given this, I as a reader still find SAG extremely powerful – the images and story resonate in my mind in a way that a traditional journalist account of Gorazde could not. And as Sacco foresaw the question of “real truth,” I wonder if he was mostly concerned with my praise – that is, did Sacco want to resonate more than prove reliability?
Further, Sacco depicts the stranger in manner of the hard-boiled – a largely fictionalized genre which fits easier into the world of comics than the real-life Sacco does himself. In contrast to Sacco and the townspeople that befriend Sacco, the movements of the stranger are stiff and mechanical (consider scenes like 24.3, 61.3 or 102.2) and help separate the “fictional” stranger from the “real” people in the prologue. Add in the line that the stranger’s “dreams told him” (ii.4) he wouldn’t be injured in the war, and the stranger becomes an overly-fictionalized, dreamlike device who serves to balance truth. But, again, is it necessary for “real” non-fiction to define itself against fiction?
When considering the prologue as a literary device, it’s necessary to consider the rest of SAG’s construction, too. Repetition of themes, focus on lifestyles and consumerism, structure of the narrative, etc. all define SAG as a creative non-fiction or literary journalism piece, rather than a clear-cut journalist account. And while this is something the reader knows from the start given the graphic novel format, it’s interesting how many of these devices weaken SAG as a whole and lessen the impact of Sacco’s message.
Given this, I as a reader still find SAG extremely powerful – the images and story resonate in my mind in a way that a traditional journalist account of Gorazde could not. And as Sacco foresaw the question of “real truth,” I wonder if he was mostly concerned with my praise – that is, did Sacco want to resonate more than prove reliability?
Sacco’s Splashes
I think “Safe Area Gorazde” does an effective job with its look at the Bosnian conflict, and I think one of the reasons is that Joe Sacco transmits a lot of information artistically, especially in terms of splash artwork (a midterm focus of mine). I counted five notable variations on the splash in his work, and I think it lends strength to the narration, because it recognizes both the multitude of characters and the fact that the sprawling town itself is a central character to this story. It’s hard to present a town effectively in only a nine-panel grid.
Here are the different variants I saw:
1. One-page splash (pages 1, 4) – Introductory shots of the town at the beginning of the book, one with the U.N. column, and the other of the crowd waiting to greet the trucks. It’s been noted in class the amount of detail that went into these, and the way that Sacco keeps us moving across the page with the text boxes.
2. Double-page spread (pages 14-15) – This is the only time in the book when Sacco uses this … again, an early introductory feel to the town, with all the bits and pieces we discussed in class. Effective as a mood-setter and first large-scale picture of the town.
3. Double-page top-half variant (pages 30-31) – This is where we get up into the hills and see a panorama of the town. I’d argue that Sacco could have resorted to this at least once more, during the “94 Offensive,” when the Serbs are looking over the same view (page 166). I think this would have created a nice bridge in the reader’s mind with the view we get after the fact in 30-31.
4. One page splash with “snapshot panels” (pages 46, 57, 65, 146, 188) – As we get into the book, we see these more and more, where Sacco keeps his story moving in a series of panels over a full page splash. I think the most effective use is of with the U.N. convoy winding its way in between the panels. In a way, the panels almost become motion lines for this column.
5. Panel splashes over a half-page (pages 8, 17, 27, 132, 195, 213, etc.) – Sacco resorts to these when depicting party scenes and when he wants to push the town into our consciousness (like a camera pulling back from the face to reveal the scene behind). A classic example is when they talk about giving bon bons to kids, and the final shot emphasizes the blasted town in back of the child (there’s bigger problems than tooth decay in Gorazde).
The strength of “comics journalism” has to be the combination of compelling artwork with comprehensive reporting. I think we could argue for some time about how Sacco reported things, but I think in terms of artistry, he definitely showed both a sense of experimentation and keen understanding of his craft.
Here are the different variants I saw:
1. One-page splash (pages 1, 4) – Introductory shots of the town at the beginning of the book, one with the U.N. column, and the other of the crowd waiting to greet the trucks. It’s been noted in class the amount of detail that went into these, and the way that Sacco keeps us moving across the page with the text boxes.
2. Double-page spread (pages 14-15) – This is the only time in the book when Sacco uses this … again, an early introductory feel to the town, with all the bits and pieces we discussed in class. Effective as a mood-setter and first large-scale picture of the town.
3. Double-page top-half variant (pages 30-31) – This is where we get up into the hills and see a panorama of the town. I’d argue that Sacco could have resorted to this at least once more, during the “94 Offensive,” when the Serbs are looking over the same view (page 166). I think this would have created a nice bridge in the reader’s mind with the view we get after the fact in 30-31.
4. One page splash with “snapshot panels” (pages 46, 57, 65, 146, 188) – As we get into the book, we see these more and more, where Sacco keeps his story moving in a series of panels over a full page splash. I think the most effective use is of with the U.N. convoy winding its way in between the panels. In a way, the panels almost become motion lines for this column.
5. Panel splashes over a half-page (pages 8, 17, 27, 132, 195, 213, etc.) – Sacco resorts to these when depicting party scenes and when he wants to push the town into our consciousness (like a camera pulling back from the face to reveal the scene behind). A classic example is when they talk about giving bon bons to kids, and the final shot emphasizes the blasted town in back of the child (there’s bigger problems than tooth decay in Gorazde).
The strength of “comics journalism” has to be the combination of compelling artwork with comprehensive reporting. I think we could argue for some time about how Sacco reported things, but I think in terms of artistry, he definitely showed both a sense of experimentation and keen understanding of his craft.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
"Total War"
In Gary Groth’s interview with Joe Sacco, Sacco states: “To me, with comics it’s up to the reader how long he or she wants to dwell on a particular image. A reader can make his or her experience either easier or more relentless in that way” (67). This statement reminded me of the first two pages of the section entitled “Total War.” In this section, pages 120-121, Sacco and Serif are shown a tape of the violence and destruction that was going on in Gorazde. The reader is not shown the tape but we are shown their reactions. The man showing them the tape is urging them to continue watching with an almost perverse interest or joy, exclaiming “YOU MUST SEE THIS! LOOK! LOOK! YOU MUST LOOK!” (120) The lettering is capitalized and gets increasingly thicker and bolder as the scene continues for emphasis. Sacco and Serif have looks of horror on their faces, yet they continue to watch. Serif partially covers one eye in panel 120.2, but still peeks through her fingers. In the next panel, 120.3, she completely covers her eyes and in panel 121.1 she looks the other way. She clearly cannot tolerate the atrocities she is witnessing and proceeds, in panel 121.2, to cover her face with both hands. However, after being subjected to the video for “an hour and a half” (121.3) there is a certain degree of acclimation to the violence they are witnessing and Serif is again watching the tape. Despite her initial uneasiness she offers to buy the tape, knowing it will be compelling news. The most interesting part of this scene for me is the last panel on page 121. An agitated Serif is walking away with Sacco, arms folded, and the text reads, “and only when we’d finally forced our way out the door and into the outside chill did he name his price—a figure so outrageous that it seemed to disgust Serif as much as all those full-color images of the dismembered and the disemboweled” (121.6). In a way this suggests another level to the horror of the war, that of both civilians and journalists trying to capitalize on the atrocities of the war.
Going back to the Sacco quote, comics journalism is unique in that it allows for the reader to choose the extent to which “he or she wants to dwell on a particular image,” almost shaping the news in a way because a certain amount of control is then placed in the hands of the reader. In this way the reader is allowed to shape the news for themselves by filtering the images to “make his or her experience either easier or more relentless.” The “Total War” section discussed above illustrates the viewer (Serif), in this case taking the role of reader in the Sacco quote, controlling how much she sees by covering her eyes and thus censoring her experience.
Going back to the Sacco quote, comics journalism is unique in that it allows for the reader to choose the extent to which “he or she wants to dwell on a particular image,” almost shaping the news in a way because a certain amount of control is then placed in the hands of the reader. In this way the reader is allowed to shape the news for themselves by filtering the images to “make his or her experience either easier or more relentless.” The “Total War” section discussed above illustrates the viewer (Serif), in this case taking the role of reader in the Sacco quote, controlling how much she sees by covering her eyes and thus censoring her experience.
Friday, October 12, 2007
More on Safe Area Gorazde...
I must admit that I am still somewhat undecided on how I feel about Safe Area Gorazde. Aesthetically, I think that Joe Sacco did a top-notch job showing the situation in Bosnia from a sympathetic point of view. I thought that his decision to use black panels to represent flash backs was not only helpful to the reader but also artistically sound and innovative. There were many episodes in the book that I found breathtaking in their subject matter as well as in Sacco's depiction of them. The panels on pages 92-93, which show Edin recalling the discovery of dead and decomposing bodies that belonged to some of his closest friends, are images that I will not soon forget. He employs his "floating" or cascading captions on these pages, but the drawings really do speak for themselves. In his interview with Gary Groth, Sacco says he uses this specific technique to "emphasize a scattered feeling", and it is one of my favorite things about his work. It really makes the reader pay attention to every little thing in the panel, and it definitely establishes a feeling of uncertainty and confusion.
All of that being said, there were several things about Safe Area Gorazde that I took issue with, most notably the character of Riki. Now, I may be reading too much into this, but it was nearly impossible for me to take him seriously. Riki is probably the most significant Bosnian soldier in the novel, and he is typically used as comic relief; we see him singing or making slightly suggestive comments in broken English. Though it is the sight of Riki walking toward the front line that causes Sacco to come "as close as I came in Bosnia to bursting into tears" (103.30), I could not get over the thought that he was being used as a stereotype. He was Sacco's funny, American-obsessed foreigner, the "wild and crazy guy" that we know all too well from movies, television shows, etc. There were scenes in the novel that reminded me of the scenes featuring Chin-Kee in American Born Chinese. However, instead of people being embarrassed by Riki they were egging him on. I am not sure that either of these reactions are correct, nor do I know what exactly the correct reaction is. I understand that Riki does have an enormous amount of depth to him, but I wish that Sacco had showed this more often. Perhaps he was trying to emphasize just how young and unprepared for battle the soldiers were, in which case he most definitely succeeded. I had hoped he would explain this a little more in the interview we read, but he made no reference to it. I read some more interviews about this book and was unable to find any information that satisfied my concerns. Again, I do realize that there is a large chance that I am reading too much into this. Perhaps I need to go back and read the Riki sections more closely to see more of the aforementioned depth that Riki possesses. But, seeing as I have already gone over these sections several times, I am afraid that I will just be disappointed.
All of that being said, there were several things about Safe Area Gorazde that I took issue with, most notably the character of Riki. Now, I may be reading too much into this, but it was nearly impossible for me to take him seriously. Riki is probably the most significant Bosnian soldier in the novel, and he is typically used as comic relief; we see him singing or making slightly suggestive comments in broken English. Though it is the sight of Riki walking toward the front line that causes Sacco to come "as close as I came in Bosnia to bursting into tears" (103.30), I could not get over the thought that he was being used as a stereotype. He was Sacco's funny, American-obsessed foreigner, the "wild and crazy guy" that we know all too well from movies, television shows, etc. There were scenes in the novel that reminded me of the scenes featuring Chin-Kee in American Born Chinese. However, instead of people being embarrassed by Riki they were egging him on. I am not sure that either of these reactions are correct, nor do I know what exactly the correct reaction is. I understand that Riki does have an enormous amount of depth to him, but I wish that Sacco had showed this more often. Perhaps he was trying to emphasize just how young and unprepared for battle the soldiers were, in which case he most definitely succeeded. I had hoped he would explain this a little more in the interview we read, but he made no reference to it. I read some more interviews about this book and was unable to find any information that satisfied my concerns. Again, I do realize that there is a large chance that I am reading too much into this. Perhaps I need to go back and read the Riki sections more closely to see more of the aforementioned depth that Riki possesses. But, seeing as I have already gone over these sections several times, I am afraid that I will just be disappointed.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Truthfully . . .
"The center of the book shifts, is everywhere and no circumference can be drawn until the end" (7.2-5).
Admittedly I recycled this City of Glass quotation from my last blog post but in formulating an argument for our impending paper, I'd like to see how it might apply to a reading of Safe Area Gorazde, specifically in relation to questions of truth and narration.
Like City of Glass, Safe Area Gorazde's prologue takes a number of cues from the hard boiled tradition: The smokey and shadowy bar, trenchcoat/fedora clad stranger, and suggestions of a "Real Truth" to be had. I'll stop the comparison there, because unlike Quinn, Sacco seems to know that Real Truth is a counterfeit form of real truth, thus his intent to avoid the stranger who offers him his own version of it (ii.7).
Instead Sacco gleans his truths from a number of different (sometimes competing, often complementary) sources. Much of the truths he focuses on in the early segments of the novel deal with the day to day of Gorazde's citizens putting the pieces of their lives back together as the author pieces together the story he is trying to write(16.1). Early in his relationship with Riki, Sacco presses him for some war stories, but only gets "I have seen many horrible things . . . I saw many people killed. Parts of people. Horrible things" (26.1) and as he reveals in that panels narration, that's as much as he'd ever get from Riki.
Sacco is however successful in getting some pretty horrific stories from other citizens (mostly told in the black guttered flashback sections that come to dominate the second half of the book). At points he seems unsatiable, interrupting a perfectly pleasant social gathering to interrogate Sabina about her "worst moment." "The Real Truth," Sacco narrates "was I hadn't come to record the antics of some silly girls" (151). Maybe he hadn't, but these ostensibly banal interactions constiute the heart of the story Sacco is telling. Afterall, he's not telling the stories that make up the wartime sections of the book. These horrific tales come from the people he has interviewed and every now and then Sacco even comes to question their truthfulnes. Take Dr. Begovic's "far fetched or maybe not" story about a man forced to eat his grandson's liver (125.3-4) or Nermin and Haso's claims of Serbian use of combat gas* (200. 2). Ultimately, as Sacco narrates since Gorazde was cut off from camera's "It's suffering was the sole property of those who experienced it" (126.3). Best to let them tell their truths and let the reader sort through them to create a complete picture.
Real Truth is dangerous. Politicos and claimsmakers twisted the Real Truths of history to justify, rationalize, and even incite the atrocities that we have just read about. The Real Truth of Gorazde as a "safe area" is actually the "meaninglessness of the safe area concept" (184). Even once "peace" most Gorazdians are skeptical of the truthfulness in the concept of "real peace" (214.1-4).
Can we draw a circumference by the novel's conclusion? Sacco returns to Gorazde feeling alienated as all his friends have left but finds Edin there who is concerned with"getting on with things" (227.4), looking ahead instead of walking in circles.
*Recent evidence supporting truthfulness of these claims
Admittedly I recycled this City of Glass quotation from my last blog post but in formulating an argument for our impending paper, I'd like to see how it might apply to a reading of Safe Area Gorazde, specifically in relation to questions of truth and narration.
Like City of Glass, Safe Area Gorazde's prologue takes a number of cues from the hard boiled tradition: The smokey and shadowy bar, trenchcoat/fedora clad stranger, and suggestions of a "Real Truth" to be had. I'll stop the comparison there, because unlike Quinn, Sacco seems to know that Real Truth is a counterfeit form of real truth, thus his intent to avoid the stranger who offers him his own version of it (ii.7).
Instead Sacco gleans his truths from a number of different (sometimes competing, often complementary) sources. Much of the truths he focuses on in the early segments of the novel deal with the day to day of Gorazde's citizens putting the pieces of their lives back together as the author pieces together the story he is trying to write(16.1). Early in his relationship with Riki, Sacco presses him for some war stories, but only gets "I have seen many horrible things . . . I saw many people killed. Parts of people. Horrible things" (26.1) and as he reveals in that panels narration, that's as much as he'd ever get from Riki.
Sacco is however successful in getting some pretty horrific stories from other citizens (mostly told in the black guttered flashback sections that come to dominate the second half of the book). At points he seems unsatiable, interrupting a perfectly pleasant social gathering to interrogate Sabina about her "worst moment." "The Real Truth," Sacco narrates "was I hadn't come to record the antics of some silly girls" (151). Maybe he hadn't, but these ostensibly banal interactions constiute the heart of the story Sacco is telling. Afterall, he's not telling the stories that make up the wartime sections of the book. These horrific tales come from the people he has interviewed and every now and then Sacco even comes to question their truthfulnes. Take Dr. Begovic's "far fetched or maybe not" story about a man forced to eat his grandson's liver (125.3-4) or Nermin and Haso's claims of Serbian use of combat gas* (200. 2). Ultimately, as Sacco narrates since Gorazde was cut off from camera's "It's suffering was the sole property of those who experienced it" (126.3). Best to let them tell their truths and let the reader sort through them to create a complete picture.
Real Truth is dangerous. Politicos and claimsmakers twisted the Real Truths of history to justify, rationalize, and even incite the atrocities that we have just read about. The Real Truth of Gorazde as a "safe area" is actually the "meaninglessness of the safe area concept" (184). Even once "peace" most Gorazdians are skeptical of the truthfulness in the concept of "real peace" (214.1-4).
Can we draw a circumference by the novel's conclusion? Sacco returns to Gorazde feeling alienated as all his friends have left but finds Edin there who is concerned with"getting on with things" (227.4), looking ahead instead of walking in circles.
*Recent evidence supporting truthfulness of these claims
Monday, October 8, 2007
Sacco In Iraq
Here's a link where you can view Sacco's Guardian coverage in Iraq. Look closely and see if you can find my friend John Kuniholm. These were published a few months after John arrived home in North Carolina, minus his right arm.
http://blog.stayfreemagazine.org/2005/03/joe_sacco_in_ir.html
http://blog.stayfreemagazine.org/2005/03/joe_sacco_in_ir.html
Safe Area Safe for Subject?
I approached reading Safe Area Gorazde with a great deal of trepidation. I really loved the idea of the piece-- as I love the idea of anything that uses creative media to give voice to injustice-- but I was very nervous about how the people of Gorazde would be portrayed versus how they wanted to be portrayed versus how they had actually expressed themselves to Sacco.
I majored in anthropology in undergrad and I always approached "testimonies" and cultural case studies with the same feelings of uncomfortability. I feel like, no matter how hard an artist/ethnographer/interviewer tries to keep their subject best interests at heart, no matter how committed they are to furthering their subject's interests, the fact remains at the end of the day that you are using someone else's experiences for your own pleasure/exploration/gain. Even though this type of art is something I'm studying and engaging in, my feelings of core conflict remain.
This conflict is particularly strong for me when people who have undergone trauma are concerned, simply because the interviewer is providing an emotional release for the subject that puts them in vulnerable, even emotionally dangerous places, and then using what comes out to make subjective art. Despite (perhaps despite is not the right word. Maybe in addition to this) I feel like Sacco has really created a lovely piece of art here that has the potential to do real good in the world. I think that he uses to two techniques that really offset or maybe mitigate some of the risk I described earlier.
One is that he incorporates himself into the story, making it clear that the story details not just a re-telling for his subjects, but also a journey for himself. Secondly, he doesn't reduce his subject down to "suffering machines" he really goes out of his way to describe the minutiae of their experiences, even when they don't "directly apply" to the situation that drew him to Gorazde. To me, these two techniques indicate an important brand of respect on Sacco's part. In the end, when you create this kind of art, you can't control the effects that it has on your informants. Sometimes the best thing you can do is, in the act of creation, use specifics to keep your heart in the right place.
I majored in anthropology in undergrad and I always approached "testimonies" and cultural case studies with the same feelings of uncomfortability. I feel like, no matter how hard an artist/ethnographer/interviewer tries to keep their subject best interests at heart, no matter how committed they are to furthering their subject's interests, the fact remains at the end of the day that you are using someone else's experiences for your own pleasure/exploration/gain. Even though this type of art is something I'm studying and engaging in, my feelings of core conflict remain.
This conflict is particularly strong for me when people who have undergone trauma are concerned, simply because the interviewer is providing an emotional release for the subject that puts them in vulnerable, even emotionally dangerous places, and then using what comes out to make subjective art. Despite (perhaps despite is not the right word. Maybe in addition to this) I feel like Sacco has really created a lovely piece of art here that has the potential to do real good in the world. I think that he uses to two techniques that really offset or maybe mitigate some of the risk I described earlier.
One is that he incorporates himself into the story, making it clear that the story details not just a re-telling for his subjects, but also a journey for himself. Secondly, he doesn't reduce his subject down to "suffering machines" he really goes out of his way to describe the minutiae of their experiences, even when they don't "directly apply" to the situation that drew him to Gorazde. To me, these two techniques indicate an important brand of respect on Sacco's part. In the end, when you create this kind of art, you can't control the effects that it has on your informants. Sometimes the best thing you can do is, in the act of creation, use specifics to keep your heart in the right place.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Safe Area Gorazde
Having long been a fan of political cartoons, I was surprised at how jarring and sometimes unsettling I found Safe Area Gorazde to be. To be perfectly honest, I am not even sure what it was that left me feeling this way. I think it is partly due to the first person narrative, the knowledge that these were similar or identical to the experiences that Joe Sacco had while he was there. The scenes of him sitting around with his new friends were especially touching. I tend to be somewhat skeptical when I see television journalists fraternizing with citizens in war-torn countries; it always seems forced and unnatural to me. However, in Sacco's depiction of the events, you can see a true bond between the reporter and his subjects. In fact, he rarely describes what he is doing as work. For instance on 67.3, when Sacco has finally returned to Gorazde after being delayed in Sarajevo for several weeks, he mentions doing interviews upon his return. Yet this comment is only made in passing, and it is secondary to him passing out lipsticks and letters. The reader understands just how much Sacco missed his new friends, and how distraught he had been over the possibility of not being able to return. I think the illustrations during this episode, especially 66.2, convey this sentiment in a very realistic and emotional manner.
One element of Sacco's story that I found particularly compelling was his sense of guilt over his role as messenger between Gorazde and Sarajevo. While he clearly has no problem delivering notes and packages back and forth between loved ones, I think that it made him more resentful of the fact that the short distance between the two places was so insurmountable for the citizens. He already has it pretty easy, seeing as he has the luxury of being able to return home to America whenever he wants, but the fact that his status as an American makes it easier for him to travel within a foreign land is a frustrating fact for him to deal with.
One element of Sacco's story that I found particularly compelling was his sense of guilt over his role as messenger between Gorazde and Sarajevo. While he clearly has no problem delivering notes and packages back and forth between loved ones, I think that it made him more resentful of the fact that the short distance between the two places was so insurmountable for the citizens. He already has it pretty easy, seeing as he has the luxury of being able to return home to America whenever he wants, but the fact that his status as an American makes it easier for him to travel within a foreign land is a frustrating fact for him to deal with.
Borders and Lack There Of
While reading the text, I couldn't help but notice how Sacco uses borders in some cases and doesn't in others. Throughout the graphic novel, Sacco breaks the boundaries, literally and metaphorically. What begins as a neat story, pages i and ii, turns into something altogether chaotic. Pages i and ii ("Prologue) introduce us to the narrator, Sacco. He is sitting in a coffee shop hoping to find out the "Real Truth." In other words, Sacco is looking for something neat and pretty that can be written and drawn into neat boxes. As the story progress, these boxes drastically change.
The next section entitled "GO AWAY" is framed by two splash images without borders. The caravan driving through "No-man's-land" is in a very real sense, endless. It is also a timeless image. Without Sacco's brief descriptions, the image could be placed, any where during any war. Moreover, the image implies that the destruction is far more severe and extensive than in just this one snapshot. The following two pages (2 and 3) are very neat. Although the caption box protrudes slightly past the frame, everything is very uniform. These are the facts, they are without emotion. Just plain facts. The last image (p.4) is the second splash page. Like the first image, this is just a snapshot of the "57,000 inhabitants"(p.1) of Gorazde. The isolation of the town is evident in the backdrop of hills. The destruction is also evident in the faces of the peple lining the streets. It is also interesting to note that soldiers guarding the road are without expression.
The "Red Carpet Part I" begins in much the same way, until the party in "Part III." At this point, order begins to disintegrate. As Sacco becomes more emotionally involved with the people of Gorazde, he loses his border "inhibitions." The images in each frame blend into eachother, the captions and dialogue overlap. We do not see the strict boxes again until stories like "Disintegration" and "Disappearance." These stories are again a presentation of the facts. Sacco presents the people's stories solely as news facts. These are very unbiased representations of what happened during the war. These stories are provided in neat little boxes with neat caption and balloons. It is not until Sacco relates his personal experiences to us, that the borders are blurred and almost disorienting.
The next section entitled "GO AWAY" is framed by two splash images without borders. The caravan driving through "No-man's-land" is in a very real sense, endless. It is also a timeless image. Without Sacco's brief descriptions, the image could be placed, any where during any war. Moreover, the image implies that the destruction is far more severe and extensive than in just this one snapshot. The following two pages (2 and 3) are very neat. Although the caption box protrudes slightly past the frame, everything is very uniform. These are the facts, they are without emotion. Just plain facts. The last image (p.4) is the second splash page. Like the first image, this is just a snapshot of the "57,000 inhabitants"(p.1) of Gorazde. The isolation of the town is evident in the backdrop of hills. The destruction is also evident in the faces of the peple lining the streets. It is also interesting to note that soldiers guarding the road are without expression.
The "Red Carpet Part I" begins in much the same way, until the party in "Part III." At this point, order begins to disintegrate. As Sacco becomes more emotionally involved with the people of Gorazde, he loses his border "inhibitions." The images in each frame blend into eachother, the captions and dialogue overlap. We do not see the strict boxes again until stories like "Disintegration" and "Disappearance." These stories are again a presentation of the facts. Sacco presents the people's stories solely as news facts. These are very unbiased representations of what happened during the war. These stories are provided in neat little boxes with neat caption and balloons. It is not until Sacco relates his personal experiences to us, that the borders are blurred and almost disorienting.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Writing Oneself into the Story
“You become part of a story if you’re a journalist. I mean, you can try to write yourself out of it, but you become involved. I think it’s more honest to show that your involvement affects people.” (Joe Sacco, from “The Case for Comics Journalism,” page 6).
It helped to read Kristian Williams’s article before heading into “Safe Area Gorazde” if only to really observe the technique that Joe Sacco was using, a very first-person narrative all but cognizant of one’s own role in influencing news events, however minor, and the responsibility of owning up to that.
Elsewhere in the article, there is also a statement that journalism will have to redefine itself in the 21st century, and that the “plain-speaking language” of the front page of the newspaper is only another kind of seductive rhetoric … like reading a comic book.
I liked the tone Joe Sacco found for his work, and the ways that he inserts himself into this history. In between scenes of unbelievable cruelty and savagery (mostly transmitted through people’s back-stories about fleeing various horrors), we have his personal observations and stories of people wanting basic things – jeans from Sarajevo, news of the outside world (song lyrics and current movies), and mostly the kind of hope that a UN-card carrying freelancing journalist can provide.
“Do they know about Gorazde in America?” asks one character on page 53. “Yes,” Sacco lies.
I also kept noting the not-so-flattering ways in which Joe Sacco drew himself into his own comic. A few examples include a drooling, toothy laugh (8.1), a sweaty, drunken dance (10.4), a full-on monstrous tongue shot (11.1), and food in mid-swallow (50.2). I think all this lends some credence to his voice, a refreshing, more interesting, and more human character than the finely-coiffed, coolly-composed talking heads that get sold to the public daily on the news circuit. For me, Sacco’s first-hand observations and analyses work well, not only because of the pictures and detail that he brings to fore, but because he brings this style of self-effacement and humor to his work.
I’m still pondering though the effect of drawing a character with glasses without any pupils (sort of like a permanent camera). Is it just another form of lampooning one’s look (the bigger-than-life glasses hiding the eyes) or is there some metaphor hidden in there?
It helped to read Kristian Williams’s article before heading into “Safe Area Gorazde” if only to really observe the technique that Joe Sacco was using, a very first-person narrative all but cognizant of one’s own role in influencing news events, however minor, and the responsibility of owning up to that.
Elsewhere in the article, there is also a statement that journalism will have to redefine itself in the 21st century, and that the “plain-speaking language” of the front page of the newspaper is only another kind of seductive rhetoric … like reading a comic book.
I liked the tone Joe Sacco found for his work, and the ways that he inserts himself into this history. In between scenes of unbelievable cruelty and savagery (mostly transmitted through people’s back-stories about fleeing various horrors), we have his personal observations and stories of people wanting basic things – jeans from Sarajevo, news of the outside world (song lyrics and current movies), and mostly the kind of hope that a UN-card carrying freelancing journalist can provide.
“Do they know about Gorazde in America?” asks one character on page 53. “Yes,” Sacco lies.
I also kept noting the not-so-flattering ways in which Joe Sacco drew himself into his own comic. A few examples include a drooling, toothy laugh (8.1), a sweaty, drunken dance (10.4), a full-on monstrous tongue shot (11.1), and food in mid-swallow (50.2). I think all this lends some credence to his voice, a refreshing, more interesting, and more human character than the finely-coiffed, coolly-composed talking heads that get sold to the public daily on the news circuit. For me, Sacco’s first-hand observations and analyses work well, not only because of the pictures and detail that he brings to fore, but because he brings this style of self-effacement and humor to his work.
I’m still pondering though the effect of drawing a character with glasses without any pupils (sort of like a permanent camera). Is it just another form of lampooning one’s look (the bigger-than-life glasses hiding the eyes) or is there some metaphor hidden in there?
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