Maus and the Legitimization of the Graphic Novel

Maus by Art Spiegelman showcases a strikingly harrowing and personal account of the horrors that took place during the Holocaust. The story revolves both on Spiegelman and his father’s relationship and his father’s experience in his earlier life. After having read Maus, it doesn’t surprise me why this graphic novel has gained the critical acclaim it’s received.

I think Spiegelman tiptoed when it came to making sure he wouldn’t potentially offend anyone by using animals instead of people for Maus. The Jewish people were portrayed as mice and the Nazis were portrayed as cats. If he had used humans, it would have been bound to offend someone.

This story was not particularly easy to read. Not in the same way I felt when reading the underground comics, however; the underground comics were offensive and crude, which is why they were hard to read. Maus was all based on reality. An awful, tragic reality that actually happened and the author spared no punches in making sure our readers got the awful truth. I think the recognition of graphic novels like Maus are extremely important for this reason; people can convey their stories in any medium, and comics are no exception to that rule.

1. Are there any prominent symbols in the story? If so, what are they and how are they used?

The symbols used in the first chapter include Kaizen's symbol, a circle and three dots. This represents the Gamora clan, which is again later shown when one of the characters goes to inspects the destruction in Moscow and he discovers the marking of the symbol on the wall. The character deduces that the destruction is of the Gamora clan's doing.

2. What connections did you make with this story? Discuss the elements of the work with which you were able to connect.

I noticed that while the villain is of Asian descent, one of the main superheroes is also of Asian descent, which is a personal connection I made because I feel as though Asians are rarely represented in comics. The cast of superheroes also seems very diverse in general and it was a nice change to see.

3. What changes would you make to adapt the story into another medium? What medium would you use? What changes would you make?

It would be fun to see this story adapted into a live action film - personally, I feel as though the introduction of the characters was thrown together at the last minute and while a grandiose idea, I can already imagine an epic store playing as the superheroes were introduced, beating up the bad guys. It would allow the audiences to be more immersed into the character's lives. Granted, I've only read two issues, so perhaps there will be more in depth characterization later on. However, I feel like the benefit of a live action film is that fast introductions can be made and a lot of information can be processed.

Body Talk

Although both Eisner's Contract with God and Craig Thompson's Blankets are both categorized as graphic novels, I feel as though the two vastly differ as far as narrative goes. While Eisner is much more direct in his narrative, Thompson's pace is slow and ambiguous. Contract with God deals with the morality of the human being, while Blankets is an ode to the coming of age... that being said however, I think there are a few similarities to Eisner and Thompson's graphic novels that are worth pointing out. One example I can think of is how rooted in their own lives the authors narrate throughout their graphic novel. While Eisner's graphic novel is much more dramatic, his personal sorrows are often the basis of his stories; even Eisner spoke of it, "an exercise in personal anguish." Meanwhile, Craig Thompson's Blankets is a direct autobiography of his life - in the sense that everything that we read isn't a dramatization of his own hardships in life, but he's actually endured them.

I think Blankets was more of an emotional investment than Contract with God was. I find Blankets to be more relatable as well, but perhaps that's because I've just recently become an adult and the thought of losing my daughter is quite sad, but I don't think I've had the misfortune to experience something so incredibly tragic. Perhaps I should feel more emotional investment in the fact that Eisner's stories seem much more tragic; but with Thompson it feels all more real. The bittersweet goodbye to first loves that I felt for Thompson was much more harrowing than the tragic tale of a sinner was to me. Not to say that I disliked what Eisner created, because I think they're very striking stories. But Thompson's graphic novel left a mood that I can't quite shake out of.

The Comic Book

Oh man, where to start?

It was a hoot to look through the older comics. Especially the romance ones - I think those might have been my favorite. Not because of its ingenuity writing or strong female roles. Not because of the drawings, which weren't the "worst" per se, but different enough for me to feel a little uncomfortable. No, it was the realization that hit me as I read through the pages of the romance comics, expecting at least some romance (or what realistically was safe for audiences in the 50s? 60s?) and reading nothing but the horrors of The Immoral Woman and what will happen if a woman is to continue to stay immoral. Of course, I'm not entirely sure about the demographic of woman readership for this genre of comic books back then, but I don't think it takes a genius to tell that these comics were clearly not written by women.

On the other hand, it was entertaining to read through many of Carl Bark's Donald Duck series. Personally, I prefer Uncle Scrooge as the main character, but perhaps that's because of my predilection for rich and intelligent gentleman ducks. I think a major difference in reading the more 'realistic' comics and the comics by Carl Barks is that everything isn't as stiff, or made out to be. Carl Bark's aimed to entertain, not give a lesson in the immoral paths of the human being. And although it was a little odd to hear that one of the characters in Carl Bark's comics was a woman who just happened to be the love interest of Donald Duck, it's sadly not surprising, especially around this time. Although, I question how people would have thought of it if it were a man who was the love interest of a female duck.

The Comic Strip

It was a lot easier for me to read comic strips when I was younger. It's an interesting change I've noticed within myself; I've shied away from comic strips and grown to admire graphic novels that you wouldn't be able to just randomly flip to a page and understand what was going on. And I guess that's why I was so drawn to comic strips at first; I didn't really care for an emotional, mentally torturing journey through the never ending manga series. I just wanted to read what was in front of me without having to really put too much thought in it, and look at the pretty pictures.

Of course, now that I'm older I would rather invest my time into reading a long epic with a payoff. When I think of comic strips I think of Peanuts, Garfield, and even the Archie Sunday's that would come in a digest. And although I can't put Calvin and Hobbes in the same category as any of those just because of my emotional inclination to put that comic series higher than anything else I've ever read, it was quite the delve when we looked into the older comic strips.

Little Nemo is quite stunning to look at; Winsor McCay definitely knew how to make a composition and it fascinates me how he was able to produce so fast without having to go over process. Krazy Kat on the other hand... left me a little confused. Perhaps its my desire to read dialogue that I can find legible. Then there was Peanuts. A classic, of course. How can I find something to criticize about what was essentially a part of my childhood?

Although I can't really fathom reading a comic strip on a newspaper, especially in this day and age, I'd like to think that the comic strip was far more an American tradition in its heyday then it is now. Now we call it webcomics though, I suppose.

Understanding Comics

Understanding Comics was a vastly informative introduction into the worlds of comics; while many of what McCloud said was just pure fact, I feel as though a lot of what he was telling the readers in Understanding Comics was an understanding achieved from the knowledge and observation he accumulated throughout the years. It takes a true comic fan for that level of insightfulness. There were a lot of interesting points that McCloud pointed out that I had never really considered or thought of before. He also touched base on a few things that I'd always had looming in the back of my head, but never really was able to articulate my thoughts in the same level he was able to.

What I found particularly interesting was when he started pointing out the differences between American comics and Japanese manga. Of course, this is obvious as Japan and America are two completely different cultures - what Japan emphasizes as important for a story, an American comic reader may not understand or enjoy. Or what Western comics do in order to keep the pace of a story entertaining, the Japanese may find too rushed. But despite the differences, it's interesting to see the influences both Eastern and Western comics have done for each other. Especially today, where we see manga and comics slowly integrating into modern comics today.

Another intriguing thought from McCloud was when he discussed the universality of the face. While the details make one unique person, the fact that cartoons create faces in order to be relatable to anyone is an impressive facet only applicable to comics. It's much easier to read the emotions of a simplified cartoon face than look into the details of a realistic looking face.

The Arrival

Comics throughout history have been a powerful narrative device used to convey ideas and entertain audiences. However, a majority of these comics have relied heavily on combining text to move a story along. It was a welcoming change to read Shaun Tan’s The Arrival, a beautifully drawn story with no text written throughout the pages of the comic. A comic with no writing would be reasonably dependent on the images of the story in order to set a narrative for the reader. Tan is able to successfully create a narrative in a number of ways.

The most obvious factor is that Tan is an excellent draftsman, and his strong illustrations help guide the reader throughout the book. Tan also establishes a strong environment in each scene, because the reader nor the protagonist is able to recognize the world Tan sets the comic in. Each panel effectively moves the story along, whether the panel is a subtle shift in the protagonist’s facial expression or a shift into the memories of the people he befriends. The amount of action throughout the story is actually quite staggering; for what initially seemed to be a quiet premise of a man leaving his wife and daughter, the direction of the narrative becomes reflective on the realities and struggles of many immigrants. Despite the imaginative foreign world Tan has set the comic, the reader is instantly able to make a connection and sympathize with the protagonist. And is it possible that the story was better understood because of the lack of writing? The drawings in The Arrival are already so strong that words would diminish the narrative in each of Tan’s illustrations. Without the writing, perhaps the reader is forced to concentrate solely on the images presented and empathize.