Why go to the shop?

Perhaps I just don't pay attention that much, but today I noticed something I had not in the last few years in attending free comic book day at my local shop (LCS).  It wasn't that the shop was full, that is a given on the busiest shopping day of the year for comics, rather, the place was full of happy, smiling, laughing, talking people, mixed in age, gender and ethnicity. It doesn't necessarily matter that they were talking about comics (as one would in a comic shop) and all the stuff around the shop, it was the fact this this social interaction was occurring, and that it was so full of positivity that it actually forced you to walk around with a grin on your face and make you want to join the conversation.

I could easily buy everything I bought today on Amazon, or Ebay, or even be one of those people who download illegally. But I don't, and being in that shop today proved to me yet again that the LCS isn't ready to go down without a fight precisely because of what it, and local small business, can deliver outside of the material itself-- namely an aesthetic, social, communal experience. The LCS is not a den of negative fanboy scary as portrayed in movies and (as of late) reality television. Rather, the LCS can be that kind of place you heard your grandparents talk about, that place where people went and had coffee and read the paper and chatted. And no, the Starbucks in the B&N does not offer this, and I have been in many around the southeast and people aren't sitting around reading the latest issue of Newsweek chatting about the articles. You go there for the free wi-fi that only costs you as much as the cheapest cup of whatever.

The point here I am dancing around is this: support local business as they can still be hubs of healthy social discourse and interaction. Maybe my LCS is an exception or something, I can only speak from my own experiences, however, I know that generally when I go to a locally owned place to eat, or get coffee, people are generally more in tune with each other. By all means conduct your own social experiment as I have and next time you go out hit up these places that are being swallowed by all that is convenient or one-click away and just sort of soak in what is going on. Or, even if your bold, strike up a conversation.  If you can strike up a conversation with a complete stranger in a bar you can do it here, ok?

Why myth not caring makes Flex Mentallo important

Strap yourselves in. Brace yourselves. Prepare to become fictional- from the collected deluxe edition of Flex Mentallo Man of Muscle Mystery by Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly. 


Myth does not care. Myth has no concerns for money. Myth has no concerns about spatial or temporal dimensions that society struggles with. Myth pre-supposes all such material and even non-material concerns; It is not just the DNA of things, it is the actual ephemeral. Myth seemingly composes the structures of our stories and by extension the way in which we can or should interact in our cultures and individual lives.

Metis and the idea of a cultural intelligence

Detienne and Vernant (1978), writing on greek myth and culture, define metis in two ways-- "as a common noun, [metis] refers to a particular type of intelligence, an informed prudence; as a proper name it refers to a female deity, the daughter of Ocean" (p. 11). While the secondary definition frames much of what the authors discuss in their work, I want to focus on the former part of the definition about the phrase informed prudence. I believe this to describe myth as a discretionary that pre-supposes actions undertaken; therefore myth has the ability through allegory/metaphor (or story) to advise, inform, entertain, or even caution about situations that can or will inevitably occur within the course of a life lived within a societal structure. This idea is what Grant Morrison seems to be having his crisis about in Flex Mentallo. 


"I mean, when you think about it...they're like archetypal...they come right up from the depths, those things...how can they say that stuff's stupid?...Why do people get so ashamed of things? ...I mean, I really love those comics..." from Flex Mentallo, issue # 1. 


Morrison has basically spent the part of his career post-Mentallo living the life on paper of his magical word, "Shaman". Spinning out of his own existential and drug fueled trips that took him to places such as the far east (which have been well documented in interviews as well as in his book Supergods and the recent film-opic Talking with Gods), the time spent seemed to allow Morrison to reflect, and in some spiritual way interact, with the stories of heroes that so shaped and molded his writing sensibilities, although at some great pain as on display in the pages of Flex Mentallo. By believing in that he acts as a shaman medium so that myth and story may emerge from the fictional ether into a more substantial reality, Morrison legitimizes his own spiritual beliefs and perhaps even salvation. Honestly it is no different than any other religion or individual treatise on faith that people make in search of a centering in the reality that everyday life has constructed. Morrison has chosen the "fictional" (and I use quotations here to connote fiction as it is understood as a normative cultural operation which many would view Morrison's choice to be), to plant his flag in the ground.

Essentially, Flex Mentallo is Morrison fully realizing for the first time in his writing the greek idea of metis. For Morrison, the heroes and heroines of the golden age can bring to society and pop culture the values of a seemingly good moral citizenship/optimism (an interesting ethical argument I believe for utilitarianism on Morrison's part), which seem to have a quality that is ageless and timeless. It is such reasoning that I believe then that Flex Mentallo stands as a modern day treatise on the power of metis as I described above, and has lead Morrison to write from that standpoint in some of his major works in the last decade, e.g., All-Star Superman, Final Crisis, Joe the Barbarian. For Morrison it comes down to the simple idea that these fictions/stories can save us. 

Myth does not care because it exists forever in waiting for culture to utilize it. While the power of myth through the skills of oration are not once at the power the were due to the paradigm shift in western society to symbolizing/communicating through pen to paper, and now 0 to 1's, myth is very much woven into the fabrics of countless cultures. Simply, as Morrison discovered in his own way, we need myth to give us hope, and to let us appreciate what came before us, and expect the best that is yet to come, even if sometimes that gets lost in the shuffle for a little while. This is not a  new idea, as the greek concept of metis should demonstrate, but in this modern society, as Morrison believes, the concepts get corrupted and misused, turned out from the intention of showing perhaps a way of life that is more communal and egalitarian if society can accept its own possibility. So bring on the heroes and heroines, and let them shine a little light into our lives.




References 


Detienne, M., & Vernant, J.P. (1978). Cunning Intelligence in Greek Culture & Society. Sussex, UK. The Harvester Press. 

Why Old Friends Are A Good Thing

(image from Kaboom studios website)


In Roger Langridge's Snarked #4, we are left with a moment of reflection by one of the oldest literary creations ever-- that dreamer, that man of La Mancha, the wise, mad, beautiful romantic Don Quixote.

As Wilburforce J. Walrus and Company dash off, after being assisted by the old knight, whom one presumed to be the white knight of the gate (i.e., from the Looking Glass story) from an earlier issue, we are left with a surprising commentary on the concluding panels:

Walrus: Many thanks Whitey--you're a gentlemen and a scholar.

Knight: (smiling) They ALL say that!

Knight: ( now alone on an empty street at night, standing next to a rather wearied looking horse and he himself drops into an expression of a sad understanding) Yep--they all say that. Then they grow up....and they do. / Ah, well. S'pose it's for the best. Come, Rocinante...Let's get some hot cocoa.

(The final panel shows them ambling off into the night, with  the cheshire cat watching them).

 While Snarked has been a showcase of Langridge's love of Caroll (through a really solid character building by the way), this nod to Cervantes and one of the most famous imaginative creations in literary history is presented in a quite frankly moving moment. I have no idea if Langridge plans on bringing back the impossible dreamer and his trusty steed (maybe some Sancho Panza action as well??), but for now its always nice that some of our old literary friends remind us that they are still around if we need them to save the day or make us smile for a moment even if we have grown up.

Snarked issues 1-5 are out in your local comic store now, or possibly available online. It is published by Kaboom!. You can also visit the webpage built by Langridge snarkisland.com 

Educational questions around comics

Well it has been a while since I posted here, but that's the life of working on your doctorate...time just gets away from you and your writing and teaching commitments become multiplied in a hurry. I just wanted to pause here at this point in the semester to think some more about why comics, or, why graphic narratives, or why sequential art? What is the appeal and why do I have this need to push it as a valid and real form of creativity, communication, and scholarship that can be used in isolation, but , rather, in my argument, in constant use with other types of media in order to create wider contexts for learners.

I am preparing soon to teach another day on comics in the classroom in a little over a month, and I am in my usual planing stages. This time, however, it just feels like this go around needs to be just as dynamic as the work being discussed. But how? That is where I am currently stuck...what is the pedagogy and theory to augment the intended practices, not only in my execution of the presentation and subsequent discussions, but also in how I can present possibilities for these pre-service teachers to actually see that it is a very real possibility of using this medium in the classroom. These questions are weighing heavily on me also as I recently have started discussions with others about the possibility of my dissertation actually being a graphic narrative. It is elating, but also scary as shit.

Next time, more about this plus actually getting back to writing about comics again, if but for a brief time.

Analyzing Chapter Two of Thompson's Habibi: Veils Of Darkenss

In transitioning from chapter one, I believe Thompson begins to explore the idea of motherly connection and female identity in the presented culture/society in chapter 2.

I need to first mention that women in harems, slavery and bondage is pushed a little further forward in this chapter. While the arranged marriage as monetary supplement is introduced in chapter one, this chapter places Dodola, the female protagonist (who has been presented in narrative age from nine to mid twenties , but more on that later), in a more developed plight of being owned in a harem. Her options as a person are just as limited as before, as Thompson has, without explicitly stating it, been able to establish the diminished role of women within this space. To open the window a bit further on Dodola and her situation, Thompson decides to lay out for the reader the story in a non-linear fashion, which at times is head scratching and others stunning. While it caused me to be a bit crossed up in figuring out a flow in the introductory chapter, it begins to make more sense in this second chapter, which may or may not be due to the problems presented( woman as objects/property, women as subservient, women as sexual currency) becoming clearer to me as I read/viewed.

Is this chapter about establishing a woman finding her independent, inner/spiritual strength?

Women as property/slaves; Women as objectified; The form of woman is shown as a vessel in which body, mind, and spirit is being examined in "Veils of Darkness". Dodola's options are presented as limited outside of having a choice of being a traditional caregiver as defined by a patriarchal ideology. Specifically, we are given a broader story about how she first, at the age of nine, is compelled to take the babe she deems Zam with her out into the world and ultimately in seclusion for many years. That relationship with Zam seemingly influences her judgement in choosing to keep the baby (more on that in a moment) she has become impregnated with as a member of a harem.

Dodola has yet to say "this is wrong", or "our treatement is unfair" or to really speak out at all as the ethical evils of prostitution, slavery, and rape are presented as just being and a natural way of life, and the reader is not given any antithesis of any kind. It is plausible for me to assume Thompson is expecting the reader to come to deeming something as unacceptable on their own based on the idea that we all aim for equality for all persons. There is another assumption I believe, however, of some sort of blanketed idea that strength and determination exist within a spiritual framework which Thompson is alluding to through the examples of allegory via religion (although that has some problems at this point as well). I am most certainly not naive, and I am aware these normed patriarchal dominant attitudes about women as secondary citizens or lesser beings than men do exist in the world and proliferate heavily through using cultural relativism as a dominant view of how to handle the delicate politics of people. This is the stickiness of ethics and morality in examining cultural attitudes and actions, but that does not let artists and authors off the hook in addressing the many sides of such issues through the characters in the work they produce (and it does always exist, as natural binaries exist). I know Thompson was thinking about the slave trade and women as slaves in his research for the book, as he discussed a bit in his interview with inkstuds in September of 2011, so I am not suggesting he is making choices in a flippant manner, rather, at this point in the text (and it could change as I read on) I believe he is showing the state of the way life goes in the world he is presenting. Perhaps this is his way of making a politically neutral position in the name of art, although the choice to be pro-life in the chapter may negate that.

A large question that persisted for me at this point in the narrative is: Why does Dodola have the choice to have the child? She is encouraged of course to abort it by the female African caregiver Nadidah, and is even walked through a medicating process to do so, but ultimately she decides not to, attempting to fill the gap she seems to need of giving care to another in this world. In thinking about this reasoning, of someone wishing to bring a child into a world of violence as has been presented, Thompson is aligning Dodola with what I believe is the only sane recourse of, as described by Nel Noddings, a feminine ethic of care. This ethic is one that is a "basic ethic [...] of caring, which involves receptivity, relatedness, and responsiveness" (Gregory & Giancola, 2003, p.338). The caregiver looks not to the dread (of existential existence, one of the individual), but instead towards the love of connection with another, specifically one that you project care and love onto and who reciprocates it back (e.g. mother and child dynamics). We have , in the span of two chapters, seen our main character exhibiting this ethic of care twice in life, from a shockingly young age of nine when she runs and hides with the one she deems Zam through the choice of accepting the trials of giving birth as a young woman. This giving seems to be rooted also in some sort of extension of the spiritual, which Thompson continues to slowly dole out in passages from the QUR'AN and symbolical imagery.

But that still doesn't change the fact that she is given the choice about the child, and this troubles me from a narrative perspective. This seems strange to me as this world that is established in which men who buy, sell and rape women, and will kill children and babies (e.g. the men debating on killing Zam in the marketplace on pages 58-59), are suddenly letting her come to term with child. I will need to investigate this more, and hopefully Thompson clears this up in coming chapters.

How does the art hold up? 

The art of chapter two spends much more time in moving away from a plethora of big splashy panels and pages to more sequential narrative action. Specifically, the sequence that stands out in the chapter is when Thompson creates an action chase sequence on pages 66-71and 75-80. Thompson decides to use a dark black for the background page effectively for this sequence, keeping the readers eye on the action in the panel rather than exploring the intricate designs that he is using elsewhere on the fringes and in the negative spaces. The chase culminates with a return to the question of nature and the debris of culture as our protagonist and babe Zam are washed up upon a giant majestic tree (the tree being used in this chapter in many metaphorical/symbolic ways) shooting up through a sewer. It really is a sequence that demands further appreciation and study by those smarter than I in such matters as sequential art!

Thompson is also very bold in choosing to explore the female body in this chapter. This is where I get  a bit tough about the decision making progress of the artist. I do not believe he is objectifying the female form, but I do raise flags about how often he chooses to draw Dodola and others nude. Yes, nudity is apart of life, and possibly historically/culturally accurate in the context of this story, but is nudity necessary in telling certain parts of the story? I have no answer, but the question does need to be raised, and I hope those who read this provide response in the comments section.

Artists of any visual medium should be asked at least the reasons for why they make the decisions about showing the naked female and male form. Alan Moore has been one person in the comics medium that has at least justified his use of sexuality as a way to explore his definition of pornography (and to debunk others), and while I don't always agree with such declarations, I do think artists should engage in such transparency with those who are exposed to the works. Again, I am not attacking Thompson, nor am I defending his choices, I am merely raising a question.

Overall chapter two provides beauty and moments of head scratching, but ultimately nothing that would not make me want to push on. Thompson is bold in narrative, sequential design and themes, and this is turning out to be indeed an ambitious work that requires the close reading I am giving each chapter! I look forward to the next chapter, and await those surprises.

Analyzing Thompson's Habibi One Chapter At A Time

Recently, various critics, writers, academics and artists have been weighing in on Craig Thompson's latest graphic narrative Habibi. While I have enjoyed and been confused by the seemingly polarizing commentaries on the book, I thought it would be good to, instead of trying to evaluate the whole book all at once (which many reviews have done, but, in fairness, that is what most reviews do), examine the individual chapters of the book. It took Craig Thompson a long time to create this work, the least I can do is take my time in looking at it and investigate questions that come through examining Habibi through a variety of lenses (sociological, feminist, historical, etc. ).

Chapter One (River Map)

There is no date given for the story, but rather a sort of parallel waking dream is alluded to through the visuals created of the old (less modernized/technocentric) world and the new (globalized/industrialized) world: The brief village scenes; garbage and debris in the waters and on the mound the angels stand upon; the use of a motorcycle; candlelight; the engine of a boat. It is also fascinating thinking about this mix of old and new in the metaphor of the water washing away and/or comprised of human made garbage just on the inside of the cover. Is universality being attempted? Perhaps, but I tend to think of it more from the idea that a sense of real and fantasy is attempting to be made here rather than something homogenous for mass consumption. In creating a place that is real and imaginary, many visual artists ( e.g. film makers, painters, comics artists ) all share this common need to blend the real and the almost real, that step just outside of our waking reality that has/is/or will exist. 

There are overly male-centric values being presented within this space. If there are religious and cultural reasons for this, it is left unspoken directly by Thompson and rather it is up to the reader to infer things initially, but hopefully investigate further out of curiosity, about the culture and space. For instance, how much do I need to infer about how women are treated in this space by seeing a father sell his pre-pubescent nine year old daughter to a older male? Quite a bit, but on the other hand, working from my own nascent Westerner cultural knowledge, it is unfair of me to judge, as I can only make decisions based on my own ignorance about such subjects. Am I horrified that a father would sell his daughter for money? Yes, but the other factors influencing that decision (environmental, cultural) need to be considered by me. I think this is an early challenge in the story, as it is for most stories that are derived from other cultures or cultural viewpoints, however, this seriously beings into question how much research Thompson has done in regards to understanding the cultural practices he is trying to depict. 

As this is a graphic narrative, the power of represented symbols is of course a given ( some which I have touched on a bit earlier). There are two in particular that stick out to me (and feel free to comment on others in the comment section): 

1. In a two page spread, we are presented with the visual representation of how the name of Bismillah , can be, in Thompson's words, "tangled up in many forms" (p.39). This is the strength/power of language manifested into literally anything---Bismillah is in and can be apart of anything and everything. 

2. In teaching her child about Bismillah (p.32-41) our now older female protagonist uses Bismillah in telling a longer allegory to proved a comfort for her child. The security of a childhood totem is played out here in a lovely way (I can't help but think about Linus and that security blanket), and perhaps shadows something for further down the road narratively. 

The opening chapter of Habibi is at times strong and at times dis-orieinting. Thompson has put the reader in the position of having to fill in a lot of expository and background informational gaps about a culture, but gives enough narrative intrigue for the reader to feel comfortable pushing forward. Is Thompson critiquing that which he is describing or even taking a ideological stance? No, I don't believe so, however, he is, by approaching a story with religious subtext (nothing new for him), dancing on the line of possible cultural stereotypes created in the west to emerge based on cultural mis-understandings or lack of full-rounded knowledge about the subject matter. 

Visually speaking, it is striking. Thompson's dark lines, use of negative space, emotive faces, gorgeous double- page spreads (the boat in the sand is a favorite) ,and very detailed single page splashes ( p.16-19) simulating being a page from another type of text makes the first chapter some of the best work I have seen recently.

S.H.I.E.L.D. #3 (The Fall) and Why Saying Less In Comics Can Be More

Jonathan Hickman's S.H.I.E.L.D. series continues to be a prickly little burst of wonderful bi-monthly (although there was a wider gap between volumes one and two) comic book full of big ideas, a smattering of non-linear story telling, and wide screen cinema action movie sequencing that, combined, is an enjoyable read. For chapter three of volume two, titled "The Fall", Hickman and Artist Dustin Weaver let the imagery run wild and drive the show, saving a small bit of dialogue/exposition to segue to chapter four (hopefully coming in December).

Why Saying Less Can Be More
One of the best things Marvel does right now in their monthly series books (both long running and mini-formats) is the re-cap page at the beginning. While some may not care for this, I like to think of it as a good old fashioned (cuing the voice of an old television show omniscient announcer) " Last time, our heroes were..." segment to re-adjust the reader to the headspace of the narrative without having to go back and re-read past issues (which isn't a bad thing depending on the series I might add!). Why it is especially important for this issue (nee chapter) is it is the absolute necessary exposition needed to allow the all action issue to commence.

It is easy to assume that one could think of twenty odd pages of no dialogue and only sequential action as more of a silent movie, but, when you break these panels down , the sound is deafening: A gigantic star child, driven to a ten-foot tall destructive rage by a mathematical equation tears through an entombed city underground, blasting the city and its defenders as necessary; The sound of the star child's footsteps cracking through the foundations bringing centuries old buildings crashing down into piles of rubble; The constant cannon and percussive blasts of energy bouncing around; giant rallying calls and cries of dismay.... Even when it does break through, it comes in the form of a quasi-celestial interpreting an equation! The universal language of math, the "cold equation", breaks space time fabric  in a two page climax. Maybe I am alone in this, but stuff like this makes me create my own soundtrack.

Familiar Territory
This issue is indicative of what Hickman likes to do in his various series (FF, The Red Wing, Fantastic Four, The Ultimates)-- play with the possibilities of telling big ideas through sequential storytelling with the pictures, the backbone of the medium, doing the work. I do not know how detailed his scripts are persay, but I imagine that he lays them out nicely for his rotating cast of wonderful artists (Ribic's work on The Ultimates has been especially spot-on). While there is nothing particularly inventive about the way the sequences are done or the panel movement constructed in S.H.I.E.L.D. (J.H.Williams III it is not), Weaver draws beautiful detailed medium to large panels and striking full and double page spreads. I am willing to opine (and I could totally be wrong here), that Hickman chooses the bigger images for the size of the stories he is telling, which are always, realistically, epics for a large audience. This choice of the "epic" format" suits Hickman. Often complex, often discussed by reviewers as very complicated fractured narratives that require multiple readings, and often championed as a win if you wait for it in a collected trade format, I will say that reading S.H.I.E.L.D. as it comes out on a monthly or bi-monthly schedule has a great satisfaction, specifically as I believe that serialized narrative are exactly best enjoyed...serialized! (SIGH) Whatever happened to loving the mystery and reveling in the anticipation of heading to the LCS on any given Wednesday? But that is another post for another time.