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.   

The Trinity in #1 Form: Looking at Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman

As we come to the close of DC comics DCnU re-launched September campaign, it is a good time as things have calmed a bit to look at exactly how they chose to re-set the classic trinity of Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman and re-fresh them for a new set of readers while entertaining old fans. I am not approaching this evaluation as a good versus bad necessarily, rather, I re-read the #1's of the trinity and wanted to see what structure, characterization, and literary/story devices I could pick out in hopes of finding strands I (and hopefully others) can begin to see over a number of issues and story arcs. Also, I omitted Action Comics and Justice League due to the story purpose they serve is a prologue of five years previous to these titles. So....

In Media Res

The most intriguing (or to some the most annoying) thing about the three titles is that they all share the common use of utilizing In Medias Res. Simply, In Medias Res is "the technique of beginning a narrative in the middle of the action" (Murfin & Ray, 2003, p.217). This is an interesting narrative choice on the part of DC as they forgo the obvious trotting out of origin stories and instead choose to work on small hints wrapped in an already existing universal narrative. By being dropped into the lives of these characters and the world they inhabit we are given, as readers, room to question and move around a bit more. Comics are, after all, serialized stories and no different than, from a story/narrative perspective, serialized television shows or novels in a series.

Superman

Superman #1 is built on playing with the idea of metaphor,  binary, and mystery in making brush strokes on a very large canvas. The Daily Planet is on its way out metaphorically, as the old model of media is making way for the world of media conglomerates (here the Rupert Murdoch-esque Morgan Edge) who sweep in to "save" old print media models and re-vitalize them for the digital age via the web, video, and multi media devices. A lot of time is spent by writer George Perez in setting up the ties between the idea of the Daily Planet and Superman/ Clark Kent as Clark/Superman is represented as a classic reporter/hero finding footing in a new age.

This binary of Superman/Clark Kent can be explored further by the reader as we have no hints at his origin what so ever, other than that Krypton is mentioned. Here is where long times readers of course throw up a flag and say that it would be confusing for new readers to know what is going on with the character. However, think about for a moment about how most narratives are constructed. How often do novels or movies give you all the exposition on a character right away? The important info we are given as readers is Clark/Superman is recovering from some emotional/psychological issues and that he is battling corruption or some type of ethical/moral wrong that he feels needs to be exposed ( I hope to explore the ethics of Superman soon!). While yes, it is easy to encapsulate a character, and comics often do in the form of a caption on the title page (or the Marvel comics one page re-cap model) give a synopsis, here DC has decided not to, and really for the benefit of the reader. Also, there is enough questions being generated from this issue to propel one onto the next serialized chapter.

Wonder Woman

The most mysterious of the three, Diana ( as she is quick to point out what she wishes to be called) seems to live in London (it is the place caption we are given of her bedroom) on her own (perhaps a nod to Flashpoint, the mini-series that precedes the DCnU), setting a mood, in my mind, a lot like the stories of perhaps a wondering Ronin or Samurai who will go where they are needed. The story unfolds to show Diana is indebted to help the god Hermes (via a central symbol or totem) in a situation that involves other mythical creatures/gods, an impregnated girl, and some type of struggle that Diana is having with her own identity. This is not me just glossing over the issue, as it is very packed with action, but Wonder Woman has the largest drop in of the three, and it makes it the most intriguing (aren't the gods and their games mysterious anyway?). The reader is really left with the question "Who is Wonder Woman"?

Batman

This introduction not only drops us in the middle of a great scene which allows an introduction of a good part of the rogues gallery, but also establishes the psychogeographical importance of Arkham Asylum and Gotham City to Batman, or vice versa. Writer Scott Snyder has gone about crafting the idea of psychogeography in relation to the repeated phrase "Gotham is...".

While there is the brief mention of Bruce's dead parents, here it does not drive the internal monologue and dwelled upon as it had been in the past. Instead we are shown more Bruce Wayne, who is a Paternal figure (the scene with Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne on p. 9**) and a concerned philanthropist. In fact, we spend a great deal of time with Bruce Wayne in this issue. When we are with Batman, we find a concerned hero who is actually in favor of the Gotham City Police Department and the unshakeable Jim Gordon, and works with the GCPD in the form of a crime scene investigation with detective Harvey Bullock. This is not the traditional loner Batman, rather, a Batman that seems to be on a more even keel with his city, its local protectors, and his life (although the cliffhanger is challenging that!).

**Note: Pages referenced for the comics are by actual page counts, not counting ad pages**

References

Murfin, R., & Ray, S.M. (2003) The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms, 2nd Ed. Bedford  ST. Martins: New York.

 

Osamu Tezuka's Apollo's Song & Existential Entrapment

A Little Late To The Game
As someone who enjoys comics and all the wonderful genres that they offer, I never quite got on board with reading Manga. This was not due to availability, in fact, Manga availability has long been more at my disposal where I have traveled than any other genre in comics. So why the hold up? I have no real defense other than I chalk it up to being one of those instances where (and we all do this in life), if something of interest comes along, we often make a note of it and say the magic words 'I will get to this soon'. And so, twenty plus years later, (sweeping arms) here I am. And I arrived at a most curious story in Osamu Tezuka's Apollo's Song.

So out of all the Manga to choose from how did I arrive at Apollo's Song? Simply enough, I closed my eyes, and my finger landed on it, standing in front of a large selection of Manga pieces to choose from. Before I get into what I found particularly striking and most fascinating about Apollo's Song, I just want to say that if my choice process always works out for the best in this way, I will always choose with such a random flare!

Rathe than attempt to dissect Manga stylistically or in any way it is constructed, as I have no business doing so due to my ignorance of its history and form, I really did try to read it from the perspective of someone just looking for a good time. My brain, however, rarely these days lets me rest on my laurels and very early in the story those special little areas in my chemical processes upstairs began to light up. This is the disease of an educator.....somehow I always spoil my own good time! While I am going to write more about this title and how it relates to existential philosophy at a later time, I wanted to get this initial idea out that exploded in my head while I was reading. In the last few years writing in this more ephemeral way has become more and more part of my own process of creating context and understanding, and, as anyone who reads this blog knows,  creating context and understanding through the comics I read and the comics medium as a whole.

Aesthetic Despair
Shogo Chikaishi, the male protagonist, is presented to the reader as a psychologically damaged, cold and violent young man. His sadism is self-seving, even self-pleasuring (as exhibited in his facial expressions), as he engages in the mutilation and murder of animals and outbursts in dealing with any affections shown by others. Outside of the story of the possible involvement of the gods in Shogo's Journey (which is something for another time), I quickly realized he is a character that is stuck in what Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once described as the first of his proposed three stages of human existence: Shogo is in the aesthetic despair stage.

Why This Is A Good Thing
According to Kierkegaard, "the aesthetic stage both begins and ends in despair", as the "aesthete is inherently selfish, living with the sole concern of what is of interest to him at the moment. His life is experimental and relative; he will pursue a particular pleasure just as long as it is of interest to him" (Irwin, 2000, p.41-42). This typifies most young people in the adolescent and young adult phase of life (minus the violence and death of course!), but what makes Shogo interesting as  being representative of this stage is due to the fact that he is damaged to such an extreme degree that it makes him, as a character, a great place to exhibit the idea, both visually and narratively, as an example of the complicated philosophy of existentialism. As an educator, I often struggle to find the contexts and examples to engage students, family and friends in some of the more complex ideas when engaging in self and cultural analysis through philosophy. While I do not know if these ideas are present in all of Osamu Tezuka's work (if it is please let me know so I can investigate further!), I think the fact that it is present in this work again strengthens the argument for using alternative forms of media in presenting students and citizens with ways to access great philosophical questions that they may have not been previously given any access to in formal and/or informal education.

References
Irwin, W. (2000). Seinfeld and Philosophy (A book about Everything and Nothing). Chicago, Il: Open Court Publishing. 

Stumptown: Continuing to Improve On Crime Fiction in Comics

"The Secret Ingredient Is Crime" - Ed Brubaker

One of the great things about writer Greg Rucka and artist Matthew Southworth's stylish take on the P.I. genre-driven tale of a flawed detective, a girl gone missing, and a deal gone wrong is that it embraces and adheres to the classic pulpy crime story. More than that, however, is that much like its counterpart Criminal, Stumptown is another example of how the comics medium continues to not only breathe life into the crime story genre conventions that first came to be in the early to mid period of twentieth century fiction and film, but also are able to define it for the medium of comics in a unique way. I believe this unique-ness is accomplished to a large degree through color and use of space and place.

There is Life in the Body, You Just Gotta Know How to Breathe Life Into It
Even working within the blueprint of a genre and how those stories flow, it is hard to craft an entertaining, engrossing and compelling narrative. If it was easy, more would do it, but if you have ever tried to write your own superhero story, or book about aliens, or even romance, you know that even within the blueprints of what is taught to us in grade school English/Drama about story construction (act structure, rising action, climax, etc.), and getting from point "a"------>"b" is no easy feat! The medium of comics helps artists, writers and creators work within genre conventions (e.g. the detective crime story) while allowing a greater freedom to explore in really unrestricted ways. In the comics medium, as long as you hit the universal story beats, then you can play with the way your story looks on the page, thus creating new and modern interpretations.

This Place Feels Really Familiar
So is Stumptown= Portland, Oregon? Well yes and no. Much like the best fictions, Stumptown is based on a real place. According to the introduction by Matt Fraction in the first collected edition of Stumptown, the layouts and backgrounds are indeed Portland, and to a very vivid degree. This is another example of how comics are able to inhabit a real space and yet it be just a little adjusted where it is its own world (for more on this idea, see these posts here and here). Stumptown creates this blend of real and imaginary through a specific color palette that is naturalistic and stays very close to groundwork laid in another homage series, Criminal by writer Ed Brubaker and artist Sean Phillips. For this example, lets do a compare and contrast by looking at the night scenes in figures one and two below. Comics medium artists such as Phillips (figure 1) and Southworth (figure 2) along with also the unsung colorist for these series such as Val Staples for the most recent Criminal and Lee Loughridge for Stumptown, are creating a great twist on a genre style employed in the shadow-y colors of blue, purple/violet, and dark shadow outlines enhanced through backlighting. Much like the classic ideas about black and white film noir, shadows and light are just as important (perhaps even more so) in the comics world of trying to create mood, environment, and really establishing a place or time period as character.

Fig.1

Fig. 2

So who influences who more in the crime genre-- the books, the movies, or the comics? I like to think that through these stories there is a very homogenous blend that is forming that is part homage, part convention, and part new territory as is the want of the creative team. Stumptown is more what I like to think of as "wide-screen" cinematic than say Criminal because it is taking place in a more open area, as opposed to the claustrophobia of the city in Criminal. It is fascinating to think about environment in relation to story in this way because one cannot deny the importance of the spatial aspects as character in such instances. While film and television sometimes moves to fast for us to soak in such nuances as place, the comics medium is able to slow us down and have us really soak in the places that these stories inhabit. While Phillips and Southworth obviously have a lot of respect for each other they (along with the co-creators/writers Brubaker and Rucka respectively) are both helping to create the unique space within the comics medium for the detective crime story to find new legs and new audiences.

Stumptown is copyrighted to Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth; Criminal is copyrighted to Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips. Figures provided by the author were purchased by the author and are intended only for academic/conversational purposes. 

Serendipity and Comics: Teen Titans Lost Annual #1, A New Historicist Perspective

"[T]he great justification for a historical approach to literature and criticism is that we must know everything--the life, the times, the intricate internal argument, the shape of the language. When a subject truly engages us, every detail is precious, every shred of evidence is worth considering"- Morris Dickstein (as cited in Latrobe and Drury, 2009). 


Sometimes it is strange how the universe is serendipitous when your mind has become pre-occupied with other things. In the last few weeks, I had become a bit bummed because of the continued failure of the American government to work things out with the debt ceiling and....well about a million other things. While I have no political party allegiance ( I prefer to always listen to the candidates and do my homework before voting), I can honestly say that recent events has made me reflect a bit on the years between 2000-2008, when the country was not exactly running as quite I hoped as a citizen and voter. It was a bad time to be a mid-twenties, educated, lower middle class public school teacher (and comics fan) trying to make a difference. Cynicism was in the air and it was blossoming in many arms of the arts, more so than it had seemed previously (for example, No Country For Old Men and  There Will Be Blood were two of the most popular films at the end of the middle point of the decade! Talk about a darkness).

Even my cherished comic book heroes and heroines were struggling to re-connect to a former glimmer of the idealism and heroics I had fallen in love with as a youngster. DC comics, whom I have always had the strongest allegiance to, was mired for most of the decade in a cycle of crisis (Identity Crisis, Infinite Crisis, Final Crisis), and the whole comics industry seemed to still be in the shadow of the realistic, violent, and gritty stories and characterizations that had emerged almost twenty years previously.  With all that, however, there were some glimmering moments that I was aware of for DC Comics (and yes, I am aware of Johnny DC and the all ages tag, but I want to focus on my age demographic) in the darkness of the first decade of a new century; one major one and one minor one (that I had not been aware of) I just recently came across. The major one was  Darwyn Cooke's 2003-2004 The New Frontier, a story about the dawn of our superheroes at the cusp of a new age (the comics categorized Silver Age ), that Cooke parallels to the cold war and optimism of the John F. Kennedy presidential administration.

The second moment came as I was going through my LCS pull box this past week and I found DC Comics Presents: Teen Titans 100-Page Spectacular was sitting at the very bottom. It was odd because I didn't order it, and I was just about to tell the owner to put it on the rack until I looked closer at it. There, on the cover, was the name of Michael Allred. This was enough for me to not only buy it, but to start reading it as soon as I got home, bumping back the more high profile Daredevil and Flashpoint titles. (Later, I would look up Jay Stephens, who is the actual artist on the book, and my jaw dropped at how I didn't realize who he was!). Coming to the end of the story (this particular issue includes some other work than just the Titans story I am examining) my mind started to do that magic work of moving the furniture around upstairs in that way in which one notices a change within themselves or ones thinking/perceptions (thank you Neil Gaiman) as it came apparent to me that this story, this particular work of art was a wonderful example of how the comics medium explores, in some stories, our own constructed history and alters it just slightly in a positive, inventive, and optimistic way to make one feel...well... better. So off my mind went, as it so often will in such situations, and it led me to historical criticism that is often utilized in literary studies.

Applying New Historicism To Comics
So having decided that historical criticism would do the job, I went back and looked at Teen Titans Lost Annual #1 through my own interpretation of a branch of that type of criticism, specifically New Historical criticism. There are two things I decided to focus on. First, using the definition of new historicism put forth by Murfin and Ray (2003) , I looked at the story as both having "[...]influence and [being] influenced by historical reality"(p. 295). Basically, I think that Haney, Stephens and Allred are creating what the comics industry excels at like no other medium of communication- a hybrid intertextuality that co-mingles word, image, idea, and discourse on a multiplicity of levels (in this case a specific historical persona and time period) to be interpreted and understood by a wide demographic range. But that was a bit too broad you see, so I needed to whittle it down some more, so,  to further investigate my ideas I sent my brain off to those other places and it came back with a specific analytic tool associated with new historicism-- evaluating a text through the context and milieu.

The Context and Milieu
For this I used Latrobe and Drury (2009), who suggest when examining work through a historical criticism lens, one should consider the context and milieu by asking: "What is the setting; what are the principle characteristics of time/place/circumstance?; What historical aspects (e.g., political, social, cultural, economic) does the work portray?; Verisimilitude: In considering elements of the work's context, did the author take liberties (e.g., omitting the impact of significant historical events)? If so, why might the author have taken such liberties?" (p. 174). These questions felt satisfactory in my need to dig a bit deeper at why an artifact like Teen Titans Lost Annual #1 had me feeling better, and moreover, why I feel like such a title can contribute to a larger discussion about comics from a different perspective (which, if you read this blog often, you know I am always digging at).

1) What is the setting; what are the principle characteristics of time/place/circumstance? The story is a reflection of silver age optimism and, in the resolution, ultimate fantasy for an entire baby-boomer generation. The story is about Robin, the Boy Wonder (Dick Grayson), witnessing President Kennedy being abducted by ultra-mod looking aliens known as Ullustrians, who replace him with a look-a-like clone (fig. 1).

(fig.1)

Robin alerts the Titans to the situation and they soon are teleported off to the planet of Ullustro, where President Kennedy has been brainwashed to command the armies of the Ullustrians in an ongoing war with eerie similarities to all conflict that has occurred within the timeframe of the 20th century. There were times while reading, I must confess,  that these artists attempts at creating a sense of time and place with a real historical figure (Kennedy), mixed with the fictional Teen Titans, felt like an overwhelmingly surreal experience (which in some cases is not always a bad thing). To add to the illusion of reality within the time period of a mixed reality 60's with the silver age, dialogue is peppered with slang and (now) anachronisms being spoken by our young heroes and heroine: Using the term "twist" to describe girls; "blowing ones stack" to describe losing ones mind; "Lover" as a term of affection; and even "Ka-Powing" as a verb!

2)What historical aspects (e.g., political, social, cultural, economic) does the work portray? As discussed above, the artists here use a mix of allegory (war ,conflict, tragedy), historical record (Kennedy), and pop culture (comic book characters in silver age guise) to tell a story that has an appeal that perhaps is due to a mix of modern and postmodern artistic sensibility. What gives comics that extra something is of course the use of the art! Jay Stephens (and Mike Allred, when not inking) have been described as using pop art sensibilities and the utilization of mid-60's futuristic modernism in the work they produce (see fig.2 and fig. 3). To tell a silver age tale, this type of art makes the most sense. Darwyn Cooke's line work can also be considered pop art or even retro, but his style seems to be much closer to golden age than mod-60's sensibility (however, it is all beautiful to me).

(fig. 2)

(fig. 3)

3) Verisimilitude. It is hard to discuss this without giving away the ending, but it is the lynchpin to the story so....Upon rescuing President Kennedy, the Titans return to Earth only to find out that Kennedy's clone has been assassinated. Kennedy, realizing that he can still make a difference on Ullustro, opts to return there and makes the Titans swear to never reveal the truth to the world. This means that somewhere in the universe, Kennedy is still alive and helping cultures to see his vision of what is just and right (fig. 4).

(fig. 4)

This is a lovely sentiment , and one that is often avoided in tales of the future, as it is easy to dismiss it as a narrative choice that is to close to sappy sentimentalism. The ending though, and the story as a whole, is open, as it will effect the reader depending upon the age of the reader or the knowledge they possess of history, both not only in terms of our own recorded textbook history, but the history of the  fictional characters (DC Comics is over 75 years old), the art style (how many people stop to think about pop art vs. modern?), and so forth. The openness in this instance is the beauty for the medium of comics...it is as deep and multi-layered as our own knowledge can allow it to be. That alone makes me happy...the idea that a story, a small story, has such a toolbox full of possible uses attached to it and it is just waiting for people to pick it up.

I'm not a baby boomer, nor a Gen X'er, nor a Millennial. I'm the one in-between the cracks, culturally and politically. Somehow, the lows have been incredibly low in my demographic. But coming across this story by these artists this week and applying the above critical analysis, I found myself smiling again, reminding myself and remembering that our stories, our dreams, have so many avenues that are still open to go down, even if we have to go backwards to do so. That kind of optimism, the openness, is the one that comics constantly gives me. Also, I invite anyone who reads this to explore historical, or new historical, criticism in evaluating comics (especially the things I didn't get to in this story alone, and there are loads I am sure!). By applying avenues of criticism usually reserved for other disciplines, you will be surprised how well they translate. As always, please share your thoughts, opinions, questions and ideas in the comments section.

All images are copyright DC Comics, 2011, and were purchased by the author. These images are intended for scholarly use and debate only. 

References
Latrobe, K.H., Drury, J. (2009). Critical Approaches to Young Adult Literature. New York: Neal-Schuman Publishers. 
Murfin, R., Suprya, R.M. (2003). The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms, 2nd ed. New York: Bedford St. Martins. 

A Third Viewpoint IS Always Needed: Hickman's S.H.I.E.L.D. and Debating Power Structures

Part of the fun of writer/artist Jonathan Hickman's S.H.I.E.L.D series is the commitment to, in one of the Marvel universes, a revisionist history to fit the fictional constructs that he and other writers and artists have created. As I discussed previously about the attributes of magical realism in the medium of comics, Marvel has a history of crafting stories for readers that have them accept the world that Marvel creates as merely a degree or two off from their own, thereby creating connections/context for those that wish to follow that line. With that in mind, it is easy (and fun) to accept the fact that some of the world's greatest thinkers, scientists, philosophers, revolutionaries, etc. have worked for the secret protective society of S.H.I.E.L.D under some sort of auspice that man must be allowed to become that which he is destined to evolve into. However, as a student of critical thought and ideologies, it is fascinating to me that Hickman explores in this series (so far) how one form of a well developed and/or constructed hegemony (held by Isaac Newton) over many has a dialectical opposite (held by Leonardo Da Vinci) that can cause destructive schisms. Thus, one avenue of exploration that this opens is the mirroring of a study of power, politics, and the sticky socio-philospohical problem of mediation.

The Politics Of The Binary
S.H.I.E.L.D is a multi-layerded and de-constructed comic narrative that is a whirl-wind of image, idea, and story (many critics on the web have found connections with the series hard for this reason). While I am sure that when Hickman wraps up this narrative in the near future many critics and scholars in not only the comics medium, but in other academic disciplines, will be able to reflect upon it and take apart the series in a multiplicity of ways that relate to the topics/ideas/questions about knowledge, power, and reality. What has, for me, been one of the most fascinating problems presented so far in re-reading all nine issues is the stirring inner-conflict of control that is tearing the organization apart, namely, in the struggle for control of establishing a dominant ideology.
Here are the positions as presented in the narrative:
(a) Isaac Newton: Believes as a leader that he has scientifically proven that the end of man will come, therefore, everything is predetermined and we should all march on valiantly to the prescribed end. Newton's own physics discoveries are also flowing through the narrative as a deterministic viewpoint of reality.
(b) Leonardo Da Vinci: Believes that man is in control, thereby acknowledging that fate exists outside of scientific certainty and one shapes ones own role in the universe. Hickman has Da Vinci aligned more with the thought of free will and quantum mechanics (which is actually introduced by Michelangelo in the series), which simple challenges much of what Newtonian physics has "proven" about reality and knowledge.

Like all systems, Newton and Da Vinci represent a binary. Binaries exist in many ways-- from being created artificially (e.g. democrat/republican) or even naturally (e.g. predator/prey). The binary is one of the oldest necessities and problems in socio-cultral and philosophical investigations. What often can be concluded though is that often two viewpoints require a third to clarify. So the question is for the third party: Who is right and can ultimately make decisions that impact many?

Can A Third Provide Hope?
So the problem presented in this narrative is one of two powerful men, both guided by wanting to be the dominant knowledge, left struggling with the fact that this is a battle over moral/ethical relativistic viewpoints. Relativism is a viewpoint that basically states that one will believe what one will believe based on the systems/communities they are within. Hickman arrives at the conclusion that many come to-- That there is always a third party needed to mediate the arguments to help others come to conclusions about the moral/ethical direction that a compass should either take (if your Newtonian), or at least given the chance of such an occurrence to happen (if your more from the Da Vinci camp).

Hickman takes the time in the 8th issue (which is actually listed as the first issue of the second volume), to let the reader know that two points of view always needs a third. Here, as the two armies of Newton and Da Vinci clash, Michelangelo points out to the character Leonid (an as yet to be determined main catalyst for the story in the big picture), who is stuck with the reader in the impossible ideological quagmire of Newton and Da Vinci: " The battle being fought is between men who believe that they can choose their future and those who believe they cannot./ [...]And it's time you learned Da Vinci and Newton are both wrong./ It's time you learned they are both right (p.18*). This is not some type of inverted pop philosophy, rather, the reader is presented with the rather serious viewpoint that one must learn to step outside of dominant ideologies in conflict to question both factions critically and with as much a degree of objectivity as is possible. The end result of such endeavors is to come to some sort of understanding in which it is hopeful that a new system can be developed to benefit all (which may be the denouement for this series soon). Isn't that really, ostensibly, the basis of all democracy? While that is the question that I arrive at, I know that others will arrive at others as they read and think about some of the wonderful questions that Hickman gives us to ponder (and please feel free to leave them in the comments section!). It is definitely something to stop and think about.

*note: page numbers are counted by the actual pages of content in the issue, not the ads or fill-ins.

Jacques Tardi In The English Classroom: Pairing Graphic Narratives, Novels and Historical Criticism

Alternative Perspectives in Young Adult Literature: Implementing Historical Criticism and Graphic Narratives into the English Classroom. 

Why It Is Not As Scary As It Sounds
In presenting a discussion of war and its subsequent themes as they appear in literature an English educator must remain neutral. This neutrality comes by being a facilitator of interpretations and discussion that grows from the viewpoints of the text. In our highly charged national climate due to so many men and women serving overseas facing conflict, it is best to understand that the discussions surrounding conflict are not necessarily meant to change opinion or belief, but rather to present viewpoints that may be antithetical to what is being held by the majority.


To develop those viewpoints in engaging literature that reflects war English educators need to consider introducing students to the methodology of historical criticism. What best serves historical criticism in the English classroom is in fact the availability of a diverse body of work concerning war and conflict. Translations abound from numerous authors of varying backgrounds and nationalities, and with multi-media capabilities, the English classroom can provide a place for students to enter a conversation on the perplexing nature of warfare and how it affects them and their fellow human beings. We, as educators, must create an environment that is safe to open those avenues of conversations. Also, the texts that are presented must accommodate a diverse variety of learners and readers. That is why I purpose to use a combination of graphic narratives with traditional canonical texts. For this example, I will combine Jacques Tardi’s (2010) It Was The War of The Trenches  in tandem with the more traditional All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque (1987). In using these pieces of historical fiction students can enter the conversation of conflict guided by a deeply caring, pedagogical approach of sharing and listening. Also, by combining two challenging and diverse viewpoints of war that will ultimately sharpen students’ analytical and critical abilities the dialogue developed will in turn address common themes that are hallmarks of Young Adult literature and appeal to the maturing adolescent.

Historical Fiction and Graphic Narratives as Young Adult Literature
First, in dealing with factual or foundationalist viewpoint history in the English classroom, we are not performing the job of historians or even infringing upon the history teachers area of expertise. We are merely using the historical narrative as our way of having students enter the conversation concerning conflict. These historical novels are, as Dickinson defines them, “a fictional narrative in which there is an identifiable time, place, and historical agent, written sometime after the event or period depicted” (as cited  in Drury & Latrobe, 2009, p.74). Historical novels serve English educators with the possibility of being able to not only continue the development of students abilities in classic literary analysis (e.g. determining style, language, themes), but to broaden their perspectives upon engaging in conversations regarding war, politics and social justice in their other disciplinary coursework and real world conversations. Ultimately, historical fiction serves the justifiable ends of any fiction studied or read for pleasure- it allows us to find similarities in our views, beliefs and feelings in regards to the experience of being alive.

Second, the more difficult to define genre within the medium of comics-graphic narratives, or graphic novels. Young adults, and readers of any age for that matter, can find connections in this genre of storytelling. While many still only think of the graphic narrative as a “comic”, many have argued for the applicability of them. For example Mila Bongco (2000) believes:

While comicbooks themselves may be ephemeral ,the medium and the
form are not… Many mythologies, characters, anecdotes and forms of
humor which originated in comics are deeply ingrained not only in
American consciousness but have found their way into a world-wide
system of reference. The language, characters and narratives in comics do
not exist devoid of ideologies, doctrines, and biases. Given the ubiquity of
 the medium and its influence on a large portion of the population, it is
difficult to imagine that sequential art [does] not, in an enduring way,
participate in or contribute to the cultural debates or struggles of the
medium’s surrounding social environment.  (p. 24-25).

Bongco (2000) sees the intertextual possibilities of using graphic narratives, one that I also believe exists in presenting subject matter such as war to Young Adult audiences that are looking for connections of some type.  In using the graphic narrative for such purposes, it is, as educator and writer Rocco Versaci (2007) points out, a medium that provides another important contrast towards “ a common thread: however beautifully or ineptly or movingly or lifelessly conveyed, these works are someone’s interpretation of how the world in which we live either is or was or should be or might be or might have been” (p.5). It is the interpretation that is the conversation that we need the students to come into, and if a graphic narrative can provide a part of that common thread, it needs to be utilized.
So English educators should not be worried about the validity of the form of graphic narratives, for just as the classroom teacher is in the infancy of their relationship with technology, perceptions concerning use of visuals need to be evaluated differently. I do not wish to make this an argument for the use of alternative mediums in the classroom, as I believe that the preceding points should be sufficient, and I have discussed it at length in a pervious paper on teaching visual rhetoric with graphic narratives.

Historical Criticism and Critical Inquiry
Critical inquiry in our schools should be beyond the nascent teachings of who, what , where , when, why and how as main questions. Today’s student is one that faces an increasing multi-mediated culture, with untold stores of knowledge presented everyday. Critical inquiry built through historical criticism allows for teachers to engage students in questions of social justice, and individual experience,  as both are needed in shaping a more democratic environment to be shared.
The historical criticism I am drawing from comes from Drury and Latrobe’s (2009) book Critical Approaches to Young Adult Literature. In it, basic outlines of the types of historical criticism that exist are folded into a malleable set of guiding questions concerning different areas of inquiry.

The Historical Lens and a Democratic Pedagogy
The lens I feel is best to use in engaging students concerning war is that of historical criticism. Drury and Latrobe (2009), in their survey of literary criticisms in Critical Approaches to Young Adult Literature, believe that “Historical criticism illuminates the basics of text, author, reader, and context”, while also “researching a literary work for its historical context requires critical consideration of the inherent problem that any scientist, teacher, or lawyer approaches with caution: the problem of making assumptions” (p. 171). For our purposes, in examining how war affects the lives of so many, the assumptions being struck at for discourse concern an unmasking of  society on both sides in an attempt to find valid reasoning. It is in those assumptions that the greatest care must be taken.

The modern classroom is diverse, not only in culture but also in belief, attitude and any other strands of sociological/psychological importance that help shape an individual into who they are. This is why a very open approach to teaching this material must be made so as to bring the assumptions of all to the forefront because it is assumption that leads to roadblocks. In combating those assumptions, we must engage in what Paulo Freire (1993) insists is a problem-posing education. According to Freire (1993) “Problem-posing education affirms men and women as beings in the process of becoming [author emphasis] –as unfinished, uncompleted beings in and with a likewise unfinished reality.” (p.84). In establishing such a method, we then lead towards practicing a shared dialogue about these subjects ( in our case war and the effects of it upon all people involved) as we tumble towards understanding our reality, the individuals place in the world and how it can function. In doing so, the classroom moves closer towards the realization that “Teacher and students (leadership and people), co-intent on reality, are both Subjects, not only in the task of unveiling that reality, and thereby coming to know it critically, but in the task of re-creating that knowledge” ( Freire, 1993, p.69). We extend the conversation of conflict by using problem-posing education in tandem with historical criticism. The seeds of a fuller democratic education are also beginning to happen in this process.

In using a text like It Was The War Of  The Trenches, democratic education is being practiced. It is not just because of how the book is constructed visually; we must look at it also as an artifact of importance in presenting how another culture views historical events-how those events may or may not have affected the lives of others we do not think of in the rush of war and the aftermaths that follow as we choose what is important in history and what is not. Such a text as Tardi (2010), and Remarque (1987) as well, is giving us is a window in to human nature and the relatable question that every young person thinks- Why are we doing these things and are they necessary?

Historical Criticism and the Politics of Social Justice
In his introduction to It Was The War Of The Trenches, Jacques Tardi (2010) insists that in examining the effects of war “There are no “heroes”, there is no “protagonist” in this awful collective “adventure” that is war. Nothing but a gigantic, anonymous scream of agony” (Foreword). Such a quote given by Tardi (2010) allows for student and teacher alike to begin questioning right away the time, place and circumstances of such combat. While our textbooks have historically pointed out the statistical information of time and place, our examination becomes one of circumstance. Is it as simple as an assassination to send so many men of such diverse backgrounds to their deaths? Do the texts we are examining give us a better or more accurate depiction due to being composed by foreign authors? We must point out immediately that with these two artifacts that we are seeing the “winning” and “losing” sides of the war, and can possibly debate the qualifications of such statements.

Such a dialogue leans also into questioning who goes to war and why? Tardi (2010) and Remarque (1987) make the point that it is the common man, infused with and manipulated by feelings of national pride, who runs headlong into conflict that perhaps they are not in full understanding of. Here we come to an important part of the discussion with students who may have a long history of military service or who have recently been moved to join. The important aspect of problem-posing dialogue within a Socratic seminar model is that we are not necessarily arguing that Tardi (2010) and Remarque’s(1987) viewpoint is right. Rather, that these authors are both exhibiting the critical awareness of questioning motives associated with war and its meaning at large. Even Tardi (2010) concedes that he is really giving his own interpretation of the war based on the stories of his grandfather and existing artifacts dealing with the conflict ( including All Quiet on the Western Front!). This is interesting on many levels, and perhaps inquiry and discussion should be guided around examining all the possible avenues of bias that Tardi (2010) is demonstrating in his work. However, it should be tempered with other examinations of parties involved in the conflict, including the interests of our own country.

Historical Criticism and the Individual Experience
Do we understand or empathize with Tardi’s (2010) interest in “man and his suffering” because it “fills him with rage” (Foreword)?  As a discipline of the humanities the individual experience as it relates to the world at large is imperative to our coursework. What Tardi (2010) is offering in his work, not only a different perspective from a different nationality, but constructing the perspective of people who are put into a situation completely out of their control. Young Adults gravitate to such stories, as often they themselves feel as if their life is out of control. This is healthy, and such discussions within a serious topic such as world war helps to alleviate the gravity of such thought provoking topics.

Tardi’s (2010) account is an amalgamation of French experience while Remarque’s (1987) is German. The individual experiences communicated by both are harrowing. Tardi’s (2010) work is constructed as vignettes of experience, allowing really for the reader to jump around. This departure from traditional linear narrative as found in all Quiet on the Western Front allows for some longitude with the work. As you mine the narrative depths of encounters given by Remarque (1987), Tardi (2010) can serve as that supplemental punch, highlighting the possible similarities and viewpoints of contention.

Both works also give us the gamut of experiences to parallel. Perhaps Remarque’s (1987) protagonist being stuck in a shell hole with a dead body with Tardi’s (2010) soldier seeking out  dead comrade in no man’s land? How about the shared cynicism of individuals’ feelings of national pride at what their countries are trying to accomplish that is used throughout both narratives? These are but a few examples, and the discovery of many points that can be made with students is only as limited as the time that can be put into it.

Conclusion
The English classroom provides a great place to discuss difficult subject matter. The human experience in times of joy and sorrow are hallmarks of great literature, and it is our job to introduce, facilitate and co-operate in the process of helping students discover their viewpoints on such subject matter. The role that an English educator must take in approaching a text or group of texts needs to work not only as an exercise in analyzing literary elements, but also needs to serve as a doorway into a wide variety of lenses that can develop critical abilities that are of an ever-growing importance in the twenty-first century classroom.

References
Bongco, M. (2000). Reading Comics: Language, Culture, and the Concept of the
      Superhero in Comic Books. New York, NY: Garland.
Drury, J., & K. H. Latrobe. (2009). Critical Approaches to Young Adult Literature. New
     York, NY: Neal-Schuman Publishers, Inc.
Freire, P.(1993/2000) Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum.
Remarque, Erich Maria. (1987). All Quiet on the Western Front. New York, NY:
     Random House Publishing.
Tardi, Jacques. (2010). It Was The War of The Trenches. Seattle, WA: Fantagraphics.
Versaci, Rocco. (2007). This Book Contains Graphic Language: Comics as Literature.
     New York, NY: Continuum.

"We are all in this together": Some great societal/cultural questions in comics this week

Having just finished the recent week in Flashpoint, there were two specific scenes that stood out to me that I feel also fold in nicely with discussions concerning the recent announcements of a new Spider-Man and a resurrected Ryan Choi as The Atom over at DC comics.

Flashpoint #4
The most curious thing about the main Flashpoint title, written by Geoff Johns, is that it is really a centerpiece that focuses more on the characters than the action. This is interesting because it allows for bigger themes and ideas to emerge. One that had been sort of bubbling under the surface but came out in full this week is in a scene with the children who comprise the Shazam-tastic Captain Marvel ( aka Captain Thunder in this timeline) in a conversation with Barry Allen, Cyborg, Batman, and Element Woman. The Flashpoint world is on the brink of destruction and heroes are in short supply to go to the front lines to help. As the rambling and disjointed heroes have come to a house for help, it is Billy Batson, a mere boy granted magical powers, who has watched the world begin to disintegrate from war and hatred in front of his eyes on television, fully capable but much like everyone else scared, who has the following exchange with Barry Allen/The Flash:

Billy: We'll come with you./ We have to, guys. Even if it's only The Flash and us. We can't sit inside and watch TV and hope something good is going to happen./ We have to make it happen.

The Flash: No, No, it's too dangerous for kids.

Billy: It's dangerous for everyone, Flash.

Such discourse in comics is common, but, often it is overlooked as just another component of writing for the superhero/heroine genre: the good guys must rally and someone must give the version of the rally round the flag speech. However, let's take a moment to approach what is perhaps being said here on another level. This is the call to action-- social action and/or social justice. Here, in this "comics summer event", we have substance over style as the characters and situation being faced mirrors our own society yet again (which, I might add, all great literature does). Generations (especially young people) who read this will be faced with the question of whether they themselves are active or passive citizens within their own culture and society and what that may mean. As an adult who teaches, this is one of the most important things I try to impart to students--that transformative social change begins with questioning (born from reading and/or discussion) enough that it moves you to action of some kind.

The World of Flashpoint #3
As one of the ancillary titles, I am sure not everyone who is reading the main event book may be getting this one. While it is not a perfect side story (as some of the side ones are not), there is a very important point about cultural beliefs when the character Traci 13, in a dramatic moment of trying to find clarity for her father, thinks:

Traci: All these champions, both good and bad, are all driven by their selfish motives. Each is caught up in his or her own little drama. / And each of them wants nothing more than to mold this world into the image of what they consider right. / But who is truly right? It's all a matter of perspective...

On the next splash page, she imparts to him (along with psychic imagery):

Traci: The world can be a terrible place, dad./ But it can be a beautiful one. It's a place where people try to make it better./ Each in their own way./ Trying to solve the world's problems, one step at a time./ There are no easy solutions. Sometimes you just have to let go.../...and hope.

Traci's call for understanding perspective in a diverse world is punctuated by the two page splash image of man, woman, alien, cyborg, machine, element, meta-human etc. all wanting to make a change for "A" better. The point Tracy is making, I believe, as many philosophers, educators, anthropologists and social theorists have also discussed the last hundred years, is that the first step in understanding culture is to understand that unity can exist even when it is understood differently based on ones upbringing and moral code. With respect for another cultures perspective, respect for views can become shared via reciprocity, and suddenly light is shed upon that most of what everyone wants, regardless of place on the planet, is basically the same: To live a healthy life with opportunity and chance for themselves and those around them; To be free of war and pestilence and hunger and death; To unshackle those that are oppressed and put in danger by those that only want power; To be educated; To be heroes for one another when the time comes.

Faces of Diversity
So I found it rather wonderful that these themes emerged in a high profile series like Flashpoint as announcements concerning the new Ultimate Universe Spider-Man were made. Marvel revealed that the Spider-Man of that universe would be a young man of mixed race background. While the voices of hatred have emerged( as they always do), there was a very nice post over at DC Women Kicking Ass who gave perhaps the best perspective on why it is important that Spider-Man has changed, and also on DC comics continuing struggles towards diversity in characters with the resurrection of Ryan Choi.  Just click on the linked name for DCWKA and please read, share, respond, and by all means continue the conversation.

Refashioning the Gothic for a Final Crisis

"We took the breakdown of the rational enlightenment story of progress and development as it succumbed to a horror tale of failure, guilt, and submission to blind authority"- Grant Morrison, Supergods, p. 36

Prometheus Bound by Scott Eaton (2006)

No matter the culture, we take the stories that have been passed to us and read, listen, and/or see them in the moment, the historical epoch to which we belong. In doing so we take old stories, stories of adventure, romance, good and evil, and re-fit them to fit our needs, our temperments, our desires and dreams. This is the purpose of story-it is what stories do, and have been doing for thousands of years. The messages of the medium are really never new, just slightly tweeked.

The myth of the American comics hero/heroine has so often struggled with this, as the nature of the myth of the good versus the evil ends with good triumphant.So how could a writer working in the genre of  comics heroism tweek the story enough to actually make good lose and evil win, with only a slight reprieve at the end?  It would take a combination of two elements. First, a deconstructed and fragmented post-modern narrative structure to cause oft times confusion and dread in the reader. Second, utilizing a type of literary genre or even motif that can support such a story.  I believe that comics writer/artist Grant Morrison does both in his often maligned multiverse epic Final Crisis as he approaches it as a modern re-fashioning of the gothic literature genre and sensibility to fit the comics medium in a major event.

The primary definition I used for looking at Final Crisis as a Gothic story comes as a bit of cross-pollination between traditional mythology, art studies and literature. Much of what I was looking for was, according to Murfin and Ray (2003), the gothic genre as "characterized by a general mood of decay, action that is dramatic and generally violent and otherwise disturbing, loves that are destructively passionate, and settings that are grandios, if gloomy or bleak" (p. 191).
A General Mood of Decay
The story of Prometheus is one of the oldest myths. As it has been passed down it has endured cultural changes and numerous new breakthroughs in mediums of communication. But yet, it still has resonance due to very primal ideas of fire, creation, power and knowledge. Many of us are first exposed to the idea of Prometheus through various literary allusions, most notably via Mary Shelley's romantic/gothic masterpiece Frankenstein, it being sub-titled "the modern prometheus".

As noted in the above quote from Morrison's talk about Final Crisis in his book Supergods (2011), he was aiming for a sense of failure. The DCU of this story is one beset by red skies and darkness with only brief glimpses of the light. Light itself, fire, that power stolen by Prometheus from the gods to bestow upon man, is the central metaphor/allusion used in great detail by Morrison to establish the duality of it as both as a bringer of knowledge and element of power. Fire is utilized in the very first issue of the series in a number of ways: The god/spirit Metron presenting fire to neanderathal man as knowledge; Fire as a harbinger of self-defeat and excess when Dan Turpin comments on lighting his cigarette; Fire as the weapon of gods to strike down the powerful and good as when Martian Manhunter is struck down by Libra while a ragtag quasi- Legion of Doom looks on in shock (which is also a prime example of the disturbing, dramatic violence of the gothic sensibility). It takes Morrison and artists J.G. Jones a handful of pages in the first issue to communicate a darkness, both environmental and embedded in character motivation and demeanor that will not break until the very end of the series, with a very important fire shedding light for a very important person.
Love In The Time Of Apocalypse
Often overlooked in Final Crisis is the subtle parallel narrative of the love of the monitors Weeja Dell and the exiled Nix Uotan. What makes the love destructive (and powerful), is they had never felt love before encountering the stories of the multiverse. Love as a destructive and powerful force is a popular sentiment of the romantic/gothic period. This discovery of love (and subsequently knowledge and emotions) by the monitors is also much like a major point that Shelley communicates about the creature in her story-- it also knows so little until it observes and learns while in exile about feelings and emotions in what it begins to percieve what it is to be human or alive.  Knowledge (in the form of a name, as mythical powers are often bestowed) will help to save us and re-unite the lovers, albeit it after so many have fallen and even, like Bruce Wayne, been lost to time. Love from beings who have just realized its beauty, and one simple harmony from our greatest comic creation, in the end gives the DCU a chance to live again.
Grandiose Settings
In fashioning this story as having a visual aesthetic sense of the gothic, Morrison and the artists of the series create the environment of gloom and doom effectively with buildings associated with gothic architecture (especially in writer Greg Rucka and artist Phillip Tan's Final Crisis: Revelations arc). It's not just red skies and raining blood that are enough (and it does happen near the end). A few examples are:

1) The stronghold of the heroes are castles, watchtowers, and churches/cathedrals.

2) The monitors multiversal orrey, which contains not only the bleed (lifeblood) of the multiverse, is fashioned by artist J.G. Jones as a giant gothic test tube.

3) Superman in Limbo is surrounded by the desolate, the trash of ideas and debris of that which is long forgotten. The book of the multiverse stands in the middle of a library of limbo, a non-centralized structure of tall spires and arches.

What I have talked about above is just a few bits I observed while re-reading Final Crisis recently as an attempt at the gothic archetype for the comics medium. Upon completing the cycle this time (which was, I think  my fifth time), I uncovered many more layers, but I leave those up to all who read this to post below in the comments section (or on your own blogs and wikis of course!) about what they perceive about the story through the lenses/experiences that they have with it. As part of my own belief that fans of comics need to continue to push for more wide-ranging criticisms from diverse cultures and fields, I always try to encourage healthy outlooks and avenues of discussion. After all, it is the greatest thing we can give to stories (and that they give to us)--keep them alive with our own "music" for others to engage in discussions about.

References

Morrison, G. (2011). Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, And A Sun God From Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human. New York: Spiegel & Grau

Murfin, R. & Ray, S.M. (2003). The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms, 2nd ed. Bedford St. Martin's: New York. 

Building Worlds and Myth Making: Magical Realism In Comics

Reality as it is often depicted in fiction can, let's be honest, tend to become a bit much. Fiction, especially comics-medium fiction, is a place for the weird, wonderful, wish-fulfilling and dream inducing tales of new and old myth.  Lately I have been thinking more and more about how the comics medium has grown to create spaces that are often over-reliant upon spatial and chronological realities-- realities which are often derived from cultural norms that are not balanced in our own world. The spaces comics can create have such greater possibilities as they are born out of the ideas of dreamers who create places that can be more surreal and inspiring than the state of our own realities. What these spaces in comics can (and in many cases have) create(d) and utilize(d), I believe, are elements that are often associated with magical realism. Therefore, magical realism is a very important element in the comics medium.

Magical Realism
The greatest thing about the concept of magical realism is that it has been a struggle to actually define it. This of course is the best thing about it--malleability. However, this malleability can be built from a grounded place (as all good ideas are). The one I want to focus on discusses magical realism as "characterized by a mixture of realistic and fantastic elements" that can have "realistic details and esoteric  knowledge intertwined with dreamlike sequences, abrupt chronological shifts, and complex, tangled plots", while also "frequently incorporat[ing] fairy tales and myths into [the] work" (Murfin & Ray, 2003, p.242). Comics (when not hung up on being so "real") often exhibit all of those or some of those parts all the time.  

The Waking Dream

In comics (and in most fictions), there is (or should be) the absolute and unmistakably dream-like quality of real versus non-real places. Magical realism is to a large degree already apart of the DNA of comics through not only our superhero and meta-human characters, but also in the dream-scape meta-realities of say a Marvel universe inhabited New York City. For example, think about perhaps a scene in an issue of The Avengers, or Amazing Spider-Man, where that deli in the borough of queens that your family and yourself have eaten at for two generations is where Peter Parker eats lunch with Tony Stark to discuss important plot points (which can also be argued as a meta-fictive quality). That is the beauty of Marvel's NYC (sometimes)-- it is there but it is not...it's really up to you.

A System Of Cultural Layers

Magical realism allows for a broader telling of stories through metaphor and allegorical cultural layers. This one is tricky, as it is important to broaden the "cultural" in that statement, something that has, while occurring, been very slow to continue along a greater development in mainstream comics. It's a big world, with a lot of untapped writers and artists of different nationalities and cultures who can blend a unique sense of place and the fantastical into the larger web of myth that the American superhero genre has created. The future of comics rests on the abilities of allowing the broadest spectrum to be represented and to express their own magical realities, either through established characters or new ones.

The Science Of Fiction

The worlds depicted in comics have their own physics and constructed realities. People fly. Gods of mythology walk amongst us. Large cities are destroyed and re-built. People can achieve speeds so high they can vibrate molecules--this list could really go on and on ( I actually encourage you to please continue it in the comments section!). Anything is possible. But for some reason, the abilities of approaching this idea are mostly squandered due to our over-relying on some need for reality. The beauty of how magical realism is functioning is that it doesn't need to be explained. It just is. Batman does not have to explain how he created a device that emits a low-frequency sound to stop Two-Face's wireless detonation signal. It's the fact that it works--that Batman helped stop destruction and death from happening. And somewhere, maybe it inspires someone in our own world to actually try to create that device to one day save lives.

It is hard sometimes, because of the way that we attach context and meaning to our fictions, to remember one of the great big rules about comic books (and fiction in general)-- None of it is real. This diversion from reality is part of the transformative appeal of comics--the ability to do anything means that they can do what we are not capable of, and thus gives us a window to wonder how we could achieve or build such things; How we can educate, save and/or empower people who need it; How we can develop pluralistic cultural understandings; How we can work together. This is achieved on a regular basis through crazy psuedo-science in places like a quasi-New York City on an alternate reality earth that magical realism works so hard to achieve. If we are able to achieve great dreams, create our ultimate selves and unite, then I will take the crazy over the real anytime. In the comments section below, please feel free to just write about the magical realism elements of comics that have inspired you or made you wonder.

References


Murfin, R. & Ray, S.M. (2003). The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms, 2nd ed. Bedford St. Martin's: New York. 

The Artist as Anthropologist: Graphic Narrative & Comics as Cultural Ethnography

"We live in the stories we tell ourselves"- Grant Morrison, Supergods, p.xvii. 


Anthropology is one of those words that has the stench of higher academia all over it. Not quite the sexy associations of the archeologist (thanks Indy) nor the nobleness of exploration (thanks every history textbook ever), anthropology, even in the halls of the academy today, has a stigma of a person with a notebook living with gorillas or a dusty tribe somewhere recording history for no one in particular. It is the misfortune of connotation that has led our view of anthropology as passe while it is actually very much alive and thriving, especially in the medium of comics via the graphic narrative. The educational value of the stories presented in graphic narratives and comics are, therefore, of great value.

We Don't Need no Education
Hopefully, you didn't stop reading with the last sentence. Look, when I make a statement of educational value, it is more of an all encompassing idea. I speak of comics and graphic narratives as educational in a more far reaching connotative sense--we cannot begin to evaluate how we communicate unless we look at the different ways in which we attempt to make sense of the multiplicity of ways in which we, as a species as a whole, have created systems of communication. So what does that mean exactly? Well this requires looking at stories (for starters) in the following ways:

-Stories as transformative pieces of culture representation.

-Stories as communicative.

-Stories as symbols.

**For another angle on this, see my post on semiotics in Carey and Gross's The Unwritten 

Spinning out of the above ideas about stories, I want to isolate an experimental way of how anthropology extends into the comics medium in a very effective and affecting way to help us understand various cultures, histories, ideologies, and viewpoints through experience.

Ethnographies of Experience
Anthropology utilizes a more qualitative means to present findings (data). One reason for this is that qualitative data gathering lends itself to deconstruction due to it being more of an experienced based record of events. Thus, the ethnography is a method in which written study is conducted to attempt a break down of an understanding of a culture or group. How an anthropologist can organize, validify and present that written account has been in a highly contested debate for decades. What cannot be denied, however, that more often the idea of what constitutes a qualitative ethnography has grown into other branches of study, more noticeably the narrative trappings found in English and History departmental writings. One that I have found in my readings that can be applied to comics studies is the ethnography of experience.

According to Marcus and Fischer (1999), the ethnography of experience is one that looks to "persuade the reader that culture matters more than [one] might have thought" (p.43). While you may at this moment be saying to yourself " that's just common sense", you may want to step back and ask yourself-- how well do I know a culture outside of my own? Odds are, even for the most educated, that we actually know very little. If this is so, how often then do you think are young people, the children in the schools, the young adults burgeoning out into the world, exposed to various cultures? While technology has allowed for new informational gates to open up, it is often overlooked that western culture has ignored actually teaching how to learn about different cultures even via the web- some could say there is a complete lack of any real media literacy (but that is for those much smarter than I in that field). But in digressing, the avenues of how we are exposing ourselves to cultures different than our own needs to be forever widening in the multiplicity of media that are available to us.

Graphic Narratives As Ethnographies Of Experience
While many still ( the public at large as well as many in academia) only think of the graphic narrative as a “comic”, many have argued for the applicability of them across a much broader and relative spectrum. For example, Mila Bongco (2000) believes:

While comicbooks themselves may be ephemeral ,the medium and the
form are not… Many mythologies, characters, anecdotes and forms of
humor which originated in comics are deeply ingrained not only in
American consciousness but have found their way into a world-wide
system of reference. The language, characters and narratives in comics do
not exist devoid of ideologies, doctrines, and biases. Given the ubiquity of
 the medium and its influence on a large portion of the population, it is
difficult to imagine that sequential art [does] not, in an enduring way,
participate in or contribute to the cultural debates or struggles of the
medium’s surrounding social environment” (p. 24-25).

Bongco (2000) sees the intertextual possibilities of using graphic narratives, one that I also believe exists in presenting subject matter to audiences that are looking for connection with the subject matter (e.g. anthropological studies/findings/writings). In using the graphic narrative for such purposes, it is , as educator and writer Rocco Versaci (2007) points out,  a medium that provides another important contrast towards “ a common thread: however beautifully or ineptly or movingly or lifelessly conveyed, these works are someone’s interpretation of how the world in which we live either is or was or should be or might be or might have been” (5). It is the interpretation that is the conversation that we need to come into, and if a graphic narrative can provide a part of that common thread, it needs to be utilized.

Finding the Common Thread In The Outsider Narrative

The comics medium has been utilized by artists/writers as outlets to tell stories of experience, therefore sometimes conducting very potent and powerful ethnographies. Many times, these personal stories extend into something greater to provide a larger cultural significance. These stories of personal reflection and insight have been a window into some of the most interesting and turbulent times in American history. One major example is Howard Cruse's Stuck Rubber Baby. 



Cruse takes the reader, via his protagonist Toland Polk, through a journey of self-discovery as Toland comes to embrace his own sexuality and identity, while simultaneously giving us the experience of this discovery through the historical socio-cultural turbulent time of the 1960's in the deep south. Topics such as racism, homophobia, identity confusion, and spirituality (just to name a few) are funneled through Cruse's narrator as he experiences normative hetero-sexual christian white culture (of which he is raised), african-american culture, and homosexual culture. Cruse is also placing not only the voice of his narrator into the text, but uses Toland of the story present to break into specific points of the narrative to actually address the reader, as if he is having you over on an evening to just relax and tell a story. This type of narration is also found in a number of feminist theories concerning the power of the individual storytelling experience.  But don't artists just come up with places and people in their head? Isn't that what ostensibly makes it fiction and cannot really make it anthropology due to some of it may not really have ever happened or existed?

Well, yes and no. Artists use references often to create the people and places. No fiction is not without some type of grounded context in our own reality, therefore, experience and reference always gives the story and art relevance/context to the reader as channeled through the artist/storyteller. Also, the amount of research and time that goes into creating these exploratory stories rivals any traditionalist sense of anthropology and or field based research and writing. Cruse himself discusses the four year process of creating his story at his website in more detail, which is filled with detailed journal entries, photo reference and other tidbits worth further investigations. http://www.howardcruse.com/howardsite/aboutbooks/stuckrubberbook/longroad/index.html

The extensive nature of how Cruse constructs his story is anthropology. Cruse's narrative is no different and just as valid as a field researcher who compiles data through experience and observation and then presents the findings. If people are going to continue to grow in understanding cultures as the exposure to them expands in the twenty-first century, the conceptions of what constitutes representations of cultures needs to be expanded to be more inclusive of peoples learning abilities and interests through an already available multitude of accessible media and re-tooled notions of research.

References

Bongco, Mila (2000). Reading Comics: Language, Culture, and the Concept of the Superhero in 

Comic Books. 

New York: Garland.

Versaci, Rocco (2007). This Book Contains Graphic Language: Comics as Literature.

New York: Continuum, 2007.