A week of literary mayhem!
On Saturday I attended a short presentation on graphic novels, entitled “Illustrated Works: A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words, More or Less.” It was one event in the weeklong literary festival that is San Francisco’s Litquake. For about an hour I sat in a darkened little theater and listened to Belle Yang, Eric Drooker, Lisa Brown, and two students in the Stanford Graphic Novel Project discuss and present some of their works. I enjoyed all the individual presentations, which were by turns funny and passionate (and included a surprising number of historical photos). But I’d gone to the event hoping to get some larger message about the state of graphic novel-dom we’re in, and that’s not what I got. I guess the vague title “Illustrated Works” should have tipped me off.
Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics
One of the best things about working on graphic novels today is that they are still young. Sequential art (comics) has been around forever — really forever, if you’ve read Scott McCloud, who dates its ancestry back to ancient manuscripts — but the graphic novel as a format is only just becoming famous. This is good for us would-be creators, but the relative newness of the medium is also a problem: people don’t know what to do with it. When I first started taking class with Nunzio, he impressed upon us that comics are not a genre, they are a medium. This is absolutely true. There are traditional genres with which graphic novels are often associated; daily newspaper strips (responsible for placing graphic novels in the “humor” section of many libraries and bookstores) and superhero comics spring instantly to mind. But the form has moved far beyond that, and that confuses people. What is the link between Peanuts, Persepolis, Dykes To Watch Out For, and the cartoons in The New Yorker? Not much — just that they’re all words put together with pictures. This isn’t sufficient reason to lump them all together. Look at the title of the Litquake event: “Illustrated Works.” Can you imagine going to an entertainment or a performance art festival, and seeing a panel called simply “Movies”? It would never happen — and that’s because movies have been in our consciousness long enough that we know how to “read” them. Even the least sophisticated of consumers can recognize that there are myriad different types of movies, from campy cult classics to experimental art films to Disney princess cartoons. No one would dream of putting on an hourlong talk just on “movies” without breaking it down thematically by style or content or creator. But graphic novels haven’t yet reached that level of public consciousness, and whenever I think of this it drives me a little bit crazy.
We still tend to talk about “graphic novels” as if they are a single thing. “Oh, I love graphic novels!” someone will say, but then it’ll turn out they only read manga or Marvel or serious stuff like Maus — all of which have their own language and their own culture, and are as different from each other as movies are from each other. Or someone will tell me, “I never read graphic novels because I don’t ‘get’ them,” and I’ll start naming titles because it’s just unfair to make that declaration without having read examples from across the spectrum. But everyone does this, because right now there simply is no other way to talk about the format. Lately I have been stumbling over the same problem when talking about my new project. I call it “a graphic novel of my family history” because that seems to be the quickest way to convey the concept, but I dislike that the word “novel” — which implies fiction — is involved in describing a very serious, personal, nonfiction piece of work. But as yet I don’t know what else to call it.
It’s my theory that this still-nascent understanding of the medium is the reason there are so many shoddy graphic novels out there (something I’ve griped about before). I suspect this was an issue in early films as well, though that’s a subject about which I know very little (maybe someone can enlighten me? Jason, I’m looking at you). I suspect early filmmakers, and filmgoers, were so enamored of this exciting new medium that they turned out a bunch of weird, wacky, or just plain bad stuff, because they hadn’t seen enough yet to figure out what it was — and what it could be. It is my fervent hope that as the medium takes off, as it seems to be doing, the less-remarkable works will stop getting as much praise as they’re getting, better work will be produced, and the best work will take center stage. (I kind of think this is happening right now with blogs. But then, we all know what happened to movies and Hollywood…!)
Stanford Graphic Novel Project
The Stanford Graphic Novel Project was my favorite presentation of the panel for this very reason. In the most recent project, called Pika-Don, twenty undergrads came together under the guidance of three faculty mentors to create — in the span of one semester — a nonfiction graphic novel about a survivor of both the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings. That is an amazing feat, but primarily I’m delighted just to know this project exists, because in putting together such a book, the mentors and students must be asking exactly the kinds of questions I wish more people would ask about graphic novels: What are they? What’s currently out there? What’s their potential and how can we push the boundaries? How can writers, artists, and readers work together to move the creative process into places it hasn’t gone before? And, very important (and touched on by the students at the presentation), how can our work have an impact in the world?
As I prepare to create my own graphic novel, all these questions are very much in my mind. I said in my previous entry on the topic that I take this project very seriously, and I consider I have a great responsibility in tackling this subject matter in this format. I guess I should just come out and say here that I don’t just want to write any graphic novel, I want to write the graphic novel as far as my own standards are concerned. And that will be quite weighty enough!
satsumabug.com | Lisa Hsia 
Oh Lisa, I appreciate your angst about the slow development of your medium. You are right to point to film as an example of another medium that went through growing pains, though I’m not sure if there are really parallels between the two.
First, when movies first developed in the 1890s they were a novelty, something you paid a few cents for to watch a train arrive at a station or see Little Egypt do the cooch dance. As time went on they evolved into a decidedly working and lower class entertainment. They were considered crass, provocative, and often obscene. They were almost always shorts — no more than two or three reels — and usually consisted of melodramatic action (The Perils of Pauline) or slapstick comedy (The Keystone Kops). These were not considered suitable for middle class Americans. And the content wasn’t the only objection; nickelodeons presented all kinds of distasteful situations. No respectable white woman could sit in the dark with mixed classes and ethnicities. Middle class white families still trotted out to vaudeville or the legitimate theater, leaving movies to immigrants and urban working class people.
It wasn’t until The Birth of a Nation in 1915 that the country sat up and noticed what a movie could be. D.W. Griffith created an epic that appealed to white middle class Americans, showing that movies didn’t have to be low-budget trash. He showed the world that movies could be art. And to be sure respectable people wouldn’t be scared away by traditional movie-goers, he played the movie in real theaters (rather than nickelodeons) and charged an unprecedented $2 a ticket.
I don’t think graphic novels have had their Birth of a Nation yet. They are still seen as the curiosities that pre-1915 movies were. Some intelligent people took movies seriously early on, but not many. I suspect graphic novels are in a similar place, though I also think they have more legitimacy than early movies did. In other words, they have a critical acceptance, but not mass appeal.
This might explain why so many people are embracing works you find boring, pretentious, or just plain weird. They recognize the medium’s potential and are hungry to see it fulfilled. Early movies didn’t have many people praising their artistic merit — they were just cheap entertainment, like today’s reality television or You Tube. It may be that there are just too many English Lit PhDs in the world; they all need to carve out their niche and some have latched onto subpar graphic novels. This happens in cinema studies too: some overeager scholar “discovers” an overlooked director and goes on and on about how great his or her movies are, but they are simply awful. (Sharon Lockhart’s 1999 experimental film Teatro Amazonas comes to mind. Wow. Just wow.)
So I guess I’m saying graphic novels may need a Birth of a Nation, something that shows people what it can be and becomes popular. I think though you already had that with Maus? This is where the parallel falls apart. Theoretically anyone can write a graphic novel and it is increasingly easy to get published (I’m including self-publishing and blogging here). Movies were too expensive for just anyone to make. And even if someone could make an independent movie, it was close to impossible to get it distributed, especially as the major studios began to gobble up theater chains. Movies were just too expensive to make and exhibit for much monkeying around. Graphic novels are cheap and one can make them alone — this can allow a lot of great thought and insight, but it can also lead to massive wankery, like this long, rambling comment. But you can’t ask me a movie question and expect a short answer.
Jason!! How do you not know by now that I am a huge fan of the novel-length comment? (No sarcasm!) Thank you so much for informing me with your historical knowledge and your opinion. I totally agree with you that graphic novels haven’t fully arrived yet; Maus was an eye-opener for sure, but you’re right, it didn’t do (and as you’re suggesting, maybe it couldn’t do) for the medium what Birth of a Nation did for film. You bring up a good point about the accessibility of creation. Comics require only a pen and paper to create, and a photocopier and some energy to distribute. (Hence zines, which I’m afraid I still kind of don’t get — though I’m willing to be converted if someone shows me one that doesn’t look, well, painfully homemade. Emphasis on the painfully.)
I like what you’ve pointed out about movies starting out as uncouth cheap entertainment; modern-day graphic novels also have roots in the disreputable and vulgar (early “underground comix,” which lots of people seem to love but which seem to me mostly kind of weird and illegible). But unlike movies, which have become universally known and popular, graphic novels still hang on to a marginal acceptance. As you say, critics like them, but I think to most people they’re still indie/artsy at best and dismissable kids’ stuff (or just trash) at worst. I wonder why… if I want my book to surpass that impression (and maybe it can’t), I need to figure out why.
Okay, this is going off on a new topic, and you don’t have to answer this, but I wonder if today’s viewing/reading audience has different purposes than did the 1915 audience that greeted Griffith. You point out that he “showed the world that movies could be art”… I wonder if that response still holds the same kind of power today? Even art today doesn’t get the same kind of reception it used to; the kind of art that makes critics sit up and wow doesn’t always seem to reach a mass audience. In fact, mass appeal often seems at odds with critical praise, and vice versa. I know we’re not assuming movies and graphic novels are parallel, but just to riff on this art theme, graphic novels have certainly shown the world that they are art and that they are powerful vehicles for storytelling. But (to mix my metaphors completely) that’s not bringing people into the theatres, so to speak. I wonder if today’s audiences are looking for something different.
This also gets into what you’re saying about self-publishing and blogging. To branch off yet again, was there mass entertainment before movies? I know reading used to be a more social/communal activity than it is now, but not the way movies are. Could it be that Griffith didn’t just legitimize and popularize a new medium, but ushered in a totally new kind of mass viewership? Just the way the internet changes the way we receive information and entertainment today?
I know I can’t ask a movie question of you and get a short answer; likewise, I can’t receive a long answer and return it with a short one. ;b Thank you, Jason, and again, no pressure to respond.
I may have misstated when I said Birth of a Nation showed the world how movies could be art. Yes, it did that, but more importantly it showed the world that movies could be accessible to a both mass and respectable audiences. That is where I think graphic novels run into a problem: the modern cultural landscape is so much more fragmented than it was through much of the 20th century. We are finding our niches and, though it is increasingly easy to consume culture for various places, we are sticking to those limiting niches. I think many people dismiss things like graphic novels (or street art, or opera, or black and white movies) because they don’t fit into their idea of what entertainment should be. People have always done this to an extent, but it seems more prevalent in a period that ironically has increased access.
There wasn’t really mass culture before the movies as we would define it. Books, especially from penny presses, would have been the best parallel, but that is about it. Cities had theater, vaudeville, burlesque, concert saloons, etc, but each of these catered to certain classes, not for everyone. It isn’t until the 20th century with movies and a little later (1920s) radio that we can really say we have the beginnings of mass culture. So to answer one of your questions, yes I think Birth of a Nation helped usher in the concept of mass culture (though I’m sure there may be scholarship that disputes this). Now people all over the country could see the same thing, not a revival of a play, but exactly what everyone else was seeing. This was probably more of a revelation for studios as they realized there was more money in this movie thing than they realized.
But I don’t think it was as momentous a change as the internet. People were still going out to theaters and consuming the same products. Now two people can spend a full year consuming product off the internet and never share a product. Culture is so much more fractured than it was even 30 years ago. I mean the MASH finale pulled in something like 110 million viewers. A network would crap their pants if they got a number like that today. They’re happy if they get 10 million for a prime time show today. American Idol only gets 20-25 million and that’s considered a massive hit.
So I think graphic novels are stuck in their own niche. In the past forms of art could break out of their niches, but I think that is increasingly difficult today. I suspect it is even harder for graphic novels now that the publishing industry is in the same flux that the music industry was 5-10 years ago. So yes, audiences are looking for something different, but they seem more timid than ever about experimenting with forms. (I am basing this on assumptions and observations; I would love someone with some data to show me my perceptions are off base.) I think this is helping foster our culture of snarkiness and cynicism. There is so much input that people (young especially) have trouble differentiating emotion from irony. Graphic novels may reek irony to some people. It’s filled with pictures so it can’t have anything they identify as true or real.
So my question to you is what do you think the future of graphic novels will be? Are they doomed to niche status? I would just say I think we are entering a cultural landscape where everything to some extent will be niche status. Mass culture will mean less and less. In a world with a fishing channel, blogs about composting, and torture porn movies I don’t think it can be any other way.
Wow! I’m supposed to be working on a crochet project for someone who’s actually going to pay me $40 for it (which I really need) but I’m glad I revisited this post and read the conversation. I hope it’s okay if I put in my two cents about some of the subjects that you’re discussing.
I think the more that advertising became entertwined with art, the more that became how the masses consumed the arts. People are so often bombarded with music, graphic design, painting, photography, film (including music videos, commercials, movies, animation of all kinds) that if one doesn’t have the inclination, or (especially with very young people) haven’t been taught a vocabulary with which to seek out art in some of its purer forms, they feel as if what they’re exposed to commercially, is all they need. I also agree that today’s ability to find content within the niche that fits one’s personal interests, can disrupt our natural curiosity and desire to explore outside our comfort zones. I think the tools advertising has developed to influence society’s perception of everything salable, have also had a part in not only the compartmentalization of society and its marginalization of many, but have made us more welcoming of the so-called 15 minutes of fame illusion; hence, giving people who don’t actually have any passion for the art form they want to create in, the impression that whatever they produce is art, and no real perception of its weight or what it could mean to the reader, viewer, or listener.
Advertising’s mission, to find us where we are at our lowest, most primal and vulnerable level, may have subliminally made society more accepting of anything that helps us stay in our own little boxes and inside our own heads. Personal computers and ipods (which I wouldn’t want to be without) can support either the inclination to be apart, or the inclination to seek out. As with some of the young people I’ve known, if their original nurturing environment didn’t introduce and reinforce the notion of exploring the myriad ideas, areas, cultures and arts of our world, they may lose the awareness that they can mount the search on their own.
I hope that graphic novels aren’t doomed to niche status. I’m not a big consumer of them, but I have tried to look through the stacks to find something that moves me, something that speaks to me. A while ago I did buy “Persepolis,” but I haven’t had time to finish it yet. I love history, especially family histories, and am exicited to hear about your project, Satsumaart. It sounds like the sort of thing, like your blog, that would stop me in my tracks and grab my attention. Good luck with this project! With your talents and your drive to make it really good, I think it will be something very special.
Ré
Ouf, I’ve totally dropped the ball on this conversation. But I’m thinking about it. I’ll get back to you both, Jason and Ré, when I have a moment to muse on your thoughtful comments!