How "look" shapes reception

I appreciated the depth and the range of Bill Kartalopoulos's interview with Paul Karasik, and look forward to having Karasik at AU discussing the issues they covered at even greater length. His description of his lectures and practices with his students gave me a much clearer picture of a comic's creation than any of McCloud did (though I suppose that could have been different if we'd read "Making Comics" instead).

Whereas I often felt like McCloud's tone was that of someone pleading with an audience that fundamentally didn't believe in the value of comics, Karasik's description of the structure and value of the form is casually convincing. He seems to have a stronger, less conflicted grasp on what it takes to make a comic--"it's not a rational process," he says, though "there are rational pieces to the process." McCloud leaned toward this kind of analysis, but never quite got me there--so what's different about Karasik? Is it that this interview is between two interested parties and pretty much guaranteed to be read by interested parties, whereas McCloud was reaching for a broader spectrum of reader? Is it that the interview is in prose form, not in comic form, and I'm simply trained to be suspicious of comics and accepting of prose? Or is it something else entirely--my opinion of the two themselves?

Though McCloud explains that he chose the style he did for accessibility's sake, it had the opposite effect for me. It was too "cartoony," too difficult a jump for me to consider it a medium, an art. The work in City of Glass, on the other hand, struck me by its depth, by the richness of visuals and symbols, by the potential for reading and re-reading and always discovering some new connection. It's interesting that Karasik claims his strength lies in "thinking about how the clock works, not how the face looks"--is it because City of Glass had such a strong "face" AND such strong "inner workings" that I was more receptive to Karasik's discussion? What were your reactions to his RISD lesson plan?

What is Art?

According to Scott McCloud, art is “any human activity which doesn’t grow out of either of our species’ two basic instincts: survival and reproduction” (164.1). Thanks to this very broad definition there is not much that would be excluded from the list. This very all-encompassing definition allows for comics to be called art even though it is an art form which has been greatly snubbed by those who practice and study the more “noble” arts of literature and painting. McCloud seeks to situate comics within the larger sphere of art, thus legitimizing the form. As mentioned in class however, McCloud goes on to make distinctions between those artists who create comics for the economic payoff and those who are truly invested in comics as an art form. I agree that he seems to have somewhat of an axe to grind with those artists who have garnered popularity and financial stability from their work; it goes along with the idea of the “starving artist” in that those who creating art for arts sake are not frequently rewarded with fame within their lifetimes.
In the end, McCloud is a cheerleader for the future of the graphic novel: “Comics offers tremendous resources to all writers and artists: faithfulness and control, a chance to be heard far and wide without fear of compromise…it offers range and versatility with all the potential imagery of film and painting plus the intimacy of the written word” (212.2). More than a work of theory, “Understanding Comics” is a tool to recruit new artists to join the cause of exploring and solidifying the future of comics in the realm of art.

Media as Vacuum

I think McCloud makes an interesting point about our culture's interaction with all media and not just cartoons when he describes on page 36, "When you enter the world of the cartoon--you see yourself" (36.4). His expansion on this idea, saying that cartoons serve as vacuums that absorb our identity and awareness, allowing us to inhabit these "empty shells" and travel to other realms, is an accurate description of many people's reasons for reading romance novels, going to the movie theatre, and watching CSI. Ours is a culture that appreciates escapism, especially when we can place ourselves in the main character's seat. What caught me, though, is the idea that we identify more easily with a less representational image, especially as children.

I was skeptical at first that there would really be that big of a difference--when he asks in the last frame on page 36, "would you have listened to me if I looked like this?" (showing himself in a more realistic form) I thought, "...yes." But as he expands on the role of messenger as blank slate, what struck me was the fact that, as a blank slate, he can be "just a little voice inside [my] head" (37.4). What convinced me was his suggestion, "if who I am matters less, maybe what I say will matter more" (37.7)--at least, for this text.

See, I think the plot and purpose of the text have equal influence on our identification, and also on the effectiveness of different styles of drawing. For example, I think of the style of the "Cynicalman" comics. Because he is drawn so simply, I can see him as the cynical "devil on my shoulder" without any depth to his own character. On the other hand, American Born Chinese and the Palomar stories were so effective for me for the opposite reason. They were--for the most part--fully fleshed out characters telling their own stories, and they wouldn't have been nearly as compelling if I were trying instead to project myself onto them.

Or would you argue that, unconsciously, I was projecting myself? Is it possible to simply absorb a story without forcing yourself into it first? And going back to the idea that kids identify better with cartoons than realistic images, why do I remember equal airtime given to cartoons and to shows like Saved By the Bell on Saturday mornings? Or is this not a conclusion that can be drawn across types of media, or at least away from drawing and into the world of actors and sets?

Minimalism in comics

I found Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics to be an incredibly informative and eye-opening look at the nature and history of comics, and when it came time to make a post I was having difficulty narrowing down one of his many topics to discuss. However, a point he made on page 85 stuck with me: "The art of comics is as subtractive as it is additive." He illustrates this idea with one story told in four different editions, each one with fewer panels than the one before it. McCloud explains how finding the balance between too much and too little is one of the most difficult tasks that comics creators face. This led me to realize just how minimalistic comics actually are, despite their appearance. It is easy to be overwhelmed by this art form, as I think most of us experienced while reading Heartbreak Soup. There is an enormous amount to take in at once, not just with the pictures and text, but the all important panel space that forces the readers to draw their own conclusions. But can you imagine how much Gilbert Hernandez must have edited out before he arrived at his final draft? He managed to achieve the perfect balance between how much story to provide and how much to leave up to the readers' imaginations.

Gene Yang took a different approach with American Born Chinese. He did not give us as much character history as Hernandez, but he provided just about all of the plot that we needed. For instance, we do not see how Wei-Chen evolved from the shy Asian transfer student that we saw at the beginning of ABC into the extremely bold and Americanized character he is in the last chapter. However, we know exactly where he and Jin stand at the end of the novel; Yang leaves it up to the reader to imagine how they reached this place and where they will go from here.

These are just two ways that comics creators achieve the balance between too much and too little information. It will be interesting to see the other ways this balance is reached in the rest of the books we read this semester.

Applying The Concept of Closure to Heartbreak Soup

On page 63 of "Understanding Comics," Scott McCloud introduces the idea of closure, or "observing the parts but perceiving the whole." Heartbreak Soap is a graphic novel that demands that the reader actively participate in closure. Gilbert Hernandez has created a series of mini stories within the story of Palomar. By combining all of these stories, one can create an identity for Palomar. It is a community where every story is in some way related to another. The reader is the one who Hernandez asks to create a “whole” out of each of these moments.

One important way we create closure is through the actual stories. Between each there is a definite passage of time. A large portion of the lives of each character is left out yet we can perceive their entire existence. For instance, the ending of the novel focuses on the character of Israel. The last we heard about Israel was that he had an affair with Carmen and never returned to Palomar. A period of time occurred between the time Israel had the affair and when we see him next with the Old Man. As active readers, Hernandez asks us to create closure. He gives us parts of Israel's life (as in the ending of the text each section is a new episode in Israel's life) and we must perceive what has taken place between the then and now.

McCloud makes a very valid and very important point that as readers of comics we must "read" in between the panels. Yet, he also notes that in every day life we "often commit closure" (p.63). The stories given to us in "Heartbreak Soup" are everyday stories and we commit closure to piece them together. "Heartbreak Soup" is in a sense like a comic itself. Each story can be compared to a panel that is juxtaposed with another panel to form a complete sequence. The complete sequence does not end with the last image of Israel's ambiguous smile, but continues in the other stories in part two. There too, I’m sure Hernandez will require us to commit closure between Israel's smile and the opening story in "Human Diastrophism."

Applying McCloud to Yang

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.