Maus is a story built around the writings of a son asking his father as a writer about his time in World War II, as well as his knowledge about his son's mother he never got to meet to put it flatly. In a more educated way of looking at it, I'd say it was one of the more impressively enriching, educating, and non-age-restricted way I've ever seen someone depict the World War II Jews' perspective. The pacing, character development, and realism is all there - yet the disconnect os using bipedal animals to portray different nationalities and religions was amazingly easy to understand, because if you think about it, such things were in the mind of the Nazis - that the other races were nothing but disgusting animals. The drawing style is so simple yet rendered in a very complex way to show the positioning of things in each scene. The emotions, personalities, and actions of the characters are easy to follow and understand both visually and in terms of text. Even the broken English sells it on a whole other level.
Now pure impressed POV aside, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. The story itself has great pacing, but takes a moment or two to understand how it rolls. The beginning recounts the writer's young life, yet skips ahead years later to actually get to the story. There's some strange disconnect there, other than a good lesson learned, and from there the reader begins to see that even as the writer in the story is recounting everything his father tells him, the actual graphic novel writer is putting himself in that position and speaking in third person. It's both commendable and impressive, selling a non-fourth wall breaking method of linking between multiple chapters and keeping a down-to-earth realism despite the anthropomorphic animal characters. This leads me to another interesting bit about the choices made in this story's development: the use of animals. Normally, animals are used in modern writing and illustration as a representational medium, and here it's no exception. A noticeable quality was the Polish were pigs, the Jews were mice, and the Nazis were cats. There's clear social-casting relations here, but I won't delve deep into them for the sake of time.
Pushing on, let's look at the infrastructure of the graphic novel - it tells of a single story How I met Your Mother style at first, but then opens up into the historical problems that occurred. Things such as Nazi propaganda, the selling of Jewish businesses and expulsions with not a penny to their names, warrantless beatings, and the scared governments and social classes were eloquently pushed in this. The level of detail for a very down-to-earth experience is also incredibly impressive. An example was the father counting his pills, knocking them over, then counting them again, breaking midway to talk about a glass eye and cataracts. Those details purely aren't necessary at all, but it really breathes life into the already realistic world this all takes place in. These are real people with real problems, but for the sake of easiness on the eyes, the style of art is simpler and the use of animals instead of humans brings a lighter aspect to such a grim, dark moment in history.
Art Spiegelman, the artist of this book, really pushed to fill a hole of history in his life, and placing it in an illustrated graphic novel no doubt took a lot of him both psychologically, and emotionally. It's both a great historic piece, and a historical reminder document of atrocities that people endured in the past, both appealing to adults and even to younger audiences. Truly his work is both baffling and insightful for his time, paving the way for serious and book-level appreciated graphic novels.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Strong Message Then, Peculiar Now: Underground Comics of the 1960s
The underground comics found in alternate newspapers of the 1960s were interesting for the most part. Society was driven in a different direction at that time, and as a product of that these were made to push the norms of it onto its reading audience. Looking back at it now, one would see these comics and look at it as a mosh pit of profanity and innuendos off the wall in obscene ways. To be more precise in terms of things most commonly found in these illustrations, there are traces of drug use, alcoholic use, perversive manners, lack of censorship both physically and verbally, and racism both in terms of visuals and slurs. This would be a parallel to the rebellious phases of our youth, yet for that time it was more loosely handled and due to the constant use of drugs to make these, were very surreal. For this look-over, I read some of the Air Pirates short sub-stories in the series.
There was nothing held back for these graphic novels. For most, they'd be offended that such child-friendly looking characters did such horrible things, but also bear in mind comics weren't just for children, and at the time, things people looked for in a very "driven" society were very different than today. Interestingly enough, despite all the subplots, no censorship, drug and alcoholic references, there were still references to current events or problems at the time. Essentially this was almost used as a vent for those who had to push their views and opinions out, high at the time, but still noticeable points and opinions. Playing off of how people got uncomfortable was normal, but then again, the writers also expected the readers to be doped up listening to music while reading these. Even animations were made to be like being on a trip (often for the purpose of being viewed while on a trip) purely because drugs were a large thing at the time in communities.
Interestingly, there were subliminal messages in each of these, and it's intriguing that in order to find them today, you have to endure the hardcore heavy-duty no-limits non-censorship of these comics. Intriguingly, I almost feel like such raw opinions could only be found in such raw formatting.
There was nothing held back for these graphic novels. For most, they'd be offended that such child-friendly looking characters did such horrible things, but also bear in mind comics weren't just for children, and at the time, things people looked for in a very "driven" society were very different than today. Interestingly enough, despite all the subplots, no censorship, drug and alcoholic references, there were still references to current events or problems at the time. Essentially this was almost used as a vent for those who had to push their views and opinions out, high at the time, but still noticeable points and opinions. Playing off of how people got uncomfortable was normal, but then again, the writers also expected the readers to be doped up listening to music while reading these. Even animations were made to be like being on a trip (often for the purpose of being viewed while on a trip) purely because drugs were a large thing at the time in communities.
Interestingly, there were subliminal messages in each of these, and it's intriguing that in order to find them today, you have to endure the hardcore heavy-duty no-limits non-censorship of these comics. Intriguingly, I almost feel like such raw opinions could only be found in such raw formatting.
Eisner and Thompson's Illustrated Theories
After reading the theories of Will Eisner and his concept of comic illustrations and their sense of movement, emotion, and storytelling through what looks like frozen action frames in an animation, I also see the similarities in Craig Thompson's works as well. Both of them have a firm and complex understanding of what a character can imply through a single frame of movement, and what kind of feelings you can get, expect, and even watch them do. You mind seems to fill in the gaps with movement to each of the still frames, and in your mind you can take what you're seeing and affix a feeling towards even little things like how pushed up someone's shoulders are to show uncomfortability or anger for instance. To reference their theories in action, I looked over Eisner's Contract With God and Thompson's Blankets.
To start off, let's look at the similarities. Visually and literally, both of the works are in black and white with no color. Both of the art styles remain concise and constant throughout the stories, and the use of dynamic poses is very prevalent. Both of the artists display a strong atmospheric feeling of an overarching heavy problem in both the characters, world, and story, and they also accomplish an end result of how the characters deal with this, regardless of positive or negative outcome. To look at the opposites, one can see that Thompson's style is more of a stylized form of characterization, sometimes jumping to abstract representational images, or semi-realistic single frames, whereas Eisner's style is very realistic, with consistent rendering styles and use of purely representational promotion of character attitude, feelings, and the like (example would be the multiple head shots in sequential order in The Super). Another trait that puts Eisner's work from Thompson's is the rooted city-life society and down-to-earth problems these characters have, whereas Thompson's work focuses more on the singular person and the abstract forms of their internal and external conflicts with another person, rather than a society.
In terms of personal levels and how they're affected, I can say I enjoyed Thompson's method of stylization, yet key moments were semi-realistic and fully rendered, often in abstract ways to convey unexplainable thoughts or feelings in a very surreal way. Eisner also accomplishes the heavier, "smell the concrete roses" understanding of living a responsible, yet inexplicably unstable life in a cold society or location figuratively. Overall, I feel like that visually, they agreed on the idea of knowing and understanding things these characters do, feel, and act with dynamic looks, but both accomplish their own feats separately as a deviation of their main theory.
To start off, let's look at the similarities. Visually and literally, both of the works are in black and white with no color. Both of the art styles remain concise and constant throughout the stories, and the use of dynamic poses is very prevalent. Both of the artists display a strong atmospheric feeling of an overarching heavy problem in both the characters, world, and story, and they also accomplish an end result of how the characters deal with this, regardless of positive or negative outcome. To look at the opposites, one can see that Thompson's style is more of a stylized form of characterization, sometimes jumping to abstract representational images, or semi-realistic single frames, whereas Eisner's style is very realistic, with consistent rendering styles and use of purely representational promotion of character attitude, feelings, and the like (example would be the multiple head shots in sequential order in The Super). Another trait that puts Eisner's work from Thompson's is the rooted city-life society and down-to-earth problems these characters have, whereas Thompson's work focuses more on the singular person and the abstract forms of their internal and external conflicts with another person, rather than a society.
In terms of personal levels and how they're affected, I can say I enjoyed Thompson's method of stylization, yet key moments were semi-realistic and fully rendered, often in abstract ways to convey unexplainable thoughts or feelings in a very surreal way. Eisner also accomplishes the heavier, "smell the concrete roses" understanding of living a responsible, yet inexplicably unstable life in a cold society or location figuratively. Overall, I feel like that visually, they agreed on the idea of knowing and understanding things these characters do, feel, and act with dynamic looks, but both accomplish their own feats separately as a deviation of their main theory.
Comics: Now In Book Format!
Comic books embraced the infrastructure of what made some of the more intricate and ongoing compelling comics most people found in the newspaper, but pushed for a on-the-go, comic-only-no-news viewing system. A lot of these comics were ongoing series of superheroes, cartoon characters, and punchline-oriented multi-storied books. Normally the comics recount a main character, whether as a protagonist or a comedian, and sticks with them throughout most of the book's entirety. Another large factor found in earlier comic books was that often the books weren't just distributed in a series, but the books themselves had several chapters or sub-series of their own, sometimes telling multiple stories in the same book. Often these books were taken by soldiers in wartimes to pass the hours away when they were stationed somewhere for a while. For this look-over, I read through some of the Uncle Scrooge McDuck series, as well as Tales of the Crypt.
Reading over the Scrooge McDuck series, I chose House of Haunts, a narrative in which Scrooge was preparing to combat the day the Beagle Boys got out of jail and attempted to steal his fortune like they do every year on the same day. In this scenario, Scrooge put his fortune in the catacombs of an old castle site, and the Beagle Boys use the knowledge they spent their jail time learning against him, making him forget where it was, even to the point of convincing Scrooge he was a ghost. The ever non-level-headed Donald Duck and Huey, Dewy, and Louie however teamed up with Scrooge to stop the Beagle Boys, and recover the lost fortune.
Analyzing the structure of the comic book, it's a single story that takes up the whole book focusing on the main character, portrayed often in the title of the series, Scrooge McDuck. The pages are multiple linked panels, and are colored, rather than being black and white. Much like what you'd expect from a cartoon from that era, there's punchlines and conflict within the story itself, and it's enough to anchor attention from younger and older audiences. The characters portrayed in this series, regardless of the comic book in the series selected, are normally the same in terms of personality and actions, and even if a reader is new to the series, things such as certain-spelled words to portray accents or personality traits are very clear and easy to pick up.
Moving over to the Tales of the Crypt series, we have our ever-prevalent character, the Crypt Keeper, breaking the fourth wall and speaking to the reader, telling them what horrifying stories they might encounter in the pages of the comic book. Now unlike the Scrooge McDuck series, the Tales of the Crypt series tells multiple sub-stories not directly related to each other in the same comic book, often spanning 5 different stories in one comic book. There's still noticeable humor in each of them to a certain degree, often a play on words or feelings towards things, and often the conflicts are supernatural or psychological. The first of the Tales of the Crypt series was and interesting premise to build the series on, being compromised of multiple short stories with easy to dive-into characters and settings that were general but specific enough to get attached to them.
Stories like a man telling his wife she's going crazy and worrying that she's hearing or seeing things when the final twist at the end is that he's the crazy one not hearing or seeing things she's seeing are a prevalent case across with the story structure: there's an introduction of characters, and an uneasy atmosphere often described. From this, the author and/or illustrator pushes out a strange unexplained conflict, and places a buildup that leads to a twist of fate at the end, often going unresolved to leave a sense of "what if that could be me next," in the reader.
Overall, the two different comic books displayed two different sides of the spectrum, and one can only wonder what many more corners lie on that spectrum that have yet to be seen from this era in which comic books began to arise. With each page-turn, it's easier an easier to get sucked into the stories, characters, and entertainment they provide readers, regardless of age or time.
Reading over the Scrooge McDuck series, I chose House of Haunts, a narrative in which Scrooge was preparing to combat the day the Beagle Boys got out of jail and attempted to steal his fortune like they do every year on the same day. In this scenario, Scrooge put his fortune in the catacombs of an old castle site, and the Beagle Boys use the knowledge they spent their jail time learning against him, making him forget where it was, even to the point of convincing Scrooge he was a ghost. The ever non-level-headed Donald Duck and Huey, Dewy, and Louie however teamed up with Scrooge to stop the Beagle Boys, and recover the lost fortune.
Analyzing the structure of the comic book, it's a single story that takes up the whole book focusing on the main character, portrayed often in the title of the series, Scrooge McDuck. The pages are multiple linked panels, and are colored, rather than being black and white. Much like what you'd expect from a cartoon from that era, there's punchlines and conflict within the story itself, and it's enough to anchor attention from younger and older audiences. The characters portrayed in this series, regardless of the comic book in the series selected, are normally the same in terms of personality and actions, and even if a reader is new to the series, things such as certain-spelled words to portray accents or personality traits are very clear and easy to pick up.
Moving over to the Tales of the Crypt series, we have our ever-prevalent character, the Crypt Keeper, breaking the fourth wall and speaking to the reader, telling them what horrifying stories they might encounter in the pages of the comic book. Now unlike the Scrooge McDuck series, the Tales of the Crypt series tells multiple sub-stories not directly related to each other in the same comic book, often spanning 5 different stories in one comic book. There's still noticeable humor in each of them to a certain degree, often a play on words or feelings towards things, and often the conflicts are supernatural or psychological. The first of the Tales of the Crypt series was and interesting premise to build the series on, being compromised of multiple short stories with easy to dive-into characters and settings that were general but specific enough to get attached to them.
Stories like a man telling his wife she's going crazy and worrying that she's hearing or seeing things when the final twist at the end is that he's the crazy one not hearing or seeing things she's seeing are a prevalent case across with the story structure: there's an introduction of characters, and an uneasy atmosphere often described. From this, the author and/or illustrator pushes out a strange unexplained conflict, and places a buildup that leads to a twist of fate at the end, often going unresolved to leave a sense of "what if that could be me next," in the reader.
Overall, the two different comic books displayed two different sides of the spectrum, and one can only wonder what many more corners lie on that spectrum that have yet to be seen from this era in which comic books began to arise. With each page-turn, it's easier an easier to get sucked into the stories, characters, and entertainment they provide readers, regardless of age or time.
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