The Walking Dead

The Walking Dead comic series is something that I became aware of after the rising popularity of the television show. Since this discovery, I have been following every new release of both the comic series and the show. As The Walking Dead is the only comic/television series that I follow regularly (I watch Marvel and DC films, but do not read the comics frequently enough), I find it interesting how in some areas the show differs from the comic, and in others, it stays exactly the same. In some instances, I can see why the changes from comic to television are necessary, as they would not translate well. For example, in my opinion, the Governor was a much better character in the television show than he was in the comic. His character on the page was a savage man, one dimensional, cruel for the sake of being cruel, he was a typical villain. Whereas in the show, he’s still introduced as a villain, but as we get to know his character, we learn that he has reasons for why he does things the way he does them. I’ve always believed that the best kinds of villains have the best kinds of intentions, but are flawed in that they will do bad things in order to achieve their well-intended goals. I like a villain with some sort of moral code — even if the villain knows they are the bad guy.

Which brings me to the topic of Negan, TWD’s newest on-screen villain. I am so glad they are staying true to his character so far (despite the lack of F-bombs). Megan was always interesting because from the very beginning you knew he was a terrible, he knew he was terrible, but at the same time, he still established himself to be very likable in a sick and twisted sort of way. Each time the survivors encounter Negan, be it onscreen or in the comic, we learn a little bit more about him and the way he functions. We learn pretty quickly that Negan adopted his psychotic personality to not only survive, but thrive in this dystopian world. His rules and laws, as twisted and evil as they may seem, make sense. His thought process and actions, as dark and manipulative as they are, work extremely well. Everything about his character, both on the page and screen makes him terrifying, likable, and hatable all at the same.

TWD is praised for its exploration of survivalism, and human behavior. While the comic is significantly more hyperbolic than the television show (because it can be), they both display a wide range of how different types of people could and would change and adapt to the dangerous and cruel new environment. It really makes you question the ethics of everything in that sort of setting, and at this point in the story, it’s difficult to say whether or not any good characters are left, or if simply the world only leaves people of varying shades of bad.

The Killing Joke Response

I had heard of The Killing Joke, but didn’t know its significance. Initially, once I figured out what story was being told, I was surprised. Up unto this point, one of the things that I had found so fascinating about the character of the joker, as that no one really knew anything about him before he was the Joker. He was the embodiment of mysterious, maddened evil, and while initially I was interested in the telling of the joker’s history, I have a feeling that the more I think about it, the less I’m going to like it. Before reading the killing joke or Detective Comics #168 in which a very similar backstory for the Joker is explored, I could theorize and imagine just how the joker came to be who he is. Each person who observed his character could come up with some sort of backstory, as unique and terrible as the next person, but now after reading his backstory, we no longer have to do that, now we no longer can do that.

From a standpoint that is looking at the killing joke as a story and only a story, I liked it for the most part. The concepts it explores are deep and dark, as they pertain to saddened insanity and psychological terror — and they are explored in a manner that is quite raw and terrifying, considering that the base of the Joker’s character is humor. The Joker’s backstory certainly gave us an opportunity to sympathize with him, to understand that he wasn’t always the way that he is today. However, in some instances, I feel like he is too great of a character, both in vast complexity and design for his backstory to be made up of essentially two major happenings. The first being the death of his wife, the second being his swim in a vat of chemicals.

Personally, if I were in charge, I don’t think I would tell the Joker’s history. But if I had to, I think I would expound upon the Joker’s backstory even further than The Killing Joke did. I would give a strand of unfortunate events that slowly led the Joker into a maddening decent, and then had his last shred of sanity stripped away from him when he fell into the toxic chemicals. I might change his backstory to make him a war veteran, a man who had to make extremely difficult decisions, a man who had to do things we could only imagine in our nightmares, a man institutionalized by the chaos of war. So overall, if I were to have a say in the Killing Joke, I would simply make it longer, more expansive, and more detailed.

Persepolis

Persepolis had been a story that I had wanted to read, but could never remember its name. While the visual qualities of the novel are charmingly simple, I found that the story and subject matter is really what kept me engaged. From the very beginning we understand exactly what kind of girl Marjane is, and what kind of problems can and would arise in her story due to her circumstances. In our modern culture, I’ve noticed it’s frowned upon to criticize Islam, or suggest that Islamic-run countries are against social progression, which is one of the reasons I found Persepolis to be so interesting. It’s not necessarily a criticism of the religion, but rather an honest display of the issues women must face in a circumstance where religious law is enforced. It’s a fascinating perspective on the subject. Freedom comes at a price, and for some parts of the world, the price is far higher than one might think.

As I researched the story and its author, I stumbled upon a few transcripts of past interviews Marjane Satrapi had been a part of. In one interview she had with ABC News, she said: “I am absolutely not a feminist, I am against stupidity, and if it comes from males or females it doesn't change anything. If it means that women and men, they are equal, then OK, certainly I am a feminist. It happens that I am a woman, so it becomes a "woman coming of age story." I think if I was a man it wouldn't change so much, they never call it a "man coming of age story." It is a human coming of age story, let's go for the humanity and humanism”. I found that to be extremely honorable and well-stated. It really showed that she had no agenda to her writing, other than to tell her story, which in my opinion, is very honorable in today’s society that is simply oversaturated with political agendas. All in all, I find Persepolis, and Marjane Satrapi to be very respectable. 

Design Choices in Comics

The first thing I noticed about Asterios Polyp was its extremely bizarre, but also strangely charming aesthetic. Being an art student, I think it helped me appreciate the craft and skill it took David Mazzucchelli to control the sheer diversity of visual styles. Each character had a very unique and individual appeal, and this was taken even further by giving even their voices personality in the way the type was presented.

As I read further into the novel, I found myself smiling in awe of how deep one could look at the story in its entirety. In a word, I would call Asterios Polyp sophisticated. Everything from the bold design choices, to the pessimistic message of the story, rung out glorious sounds of sophisticated realism. The fact that things don’t turn out well for the protagonist in the end, the idea that everyone in the comic (and in real life) has a different “design”, the subtle changes in the palette to convey the mood, everything, and I mean everything appears to be meticulously considered, and is therefore, very meaningful.

By far, I believe this to be the most interesting take on a graphic novel I’ve ever experienced. The level of consideration for the design styles, and the ability to unify them all together requires impressive skill and knowledge.

Stereotype and Diversity

Stereotyping as we know, is a double-edged sword. It can be a highly effective method of creating a character, but it can also be offensive and/or insensitive. But when you look at stereotyping in comics, animated film or television, and video games, personally I do not believe it is a necessity; However, I don’t believe that it is something we need to do away with either.

The Oxford dictionary definition of stereotype is: “a widely held but fixed and oversimplified image or idea of a particular type of person or thing.” So naturally, when it comes to individuality, it is unfair, in both entertainment and real life. Though I personally see no harm in using it as a method of establishing a character who later breaks free from those preconceived assumptions, or to create a simple and humorous collection of background characters.

  A stereotype isn’t based on a false idea of a certain group of people, and it’s hard to argue against the existence of “stereotypical people” within our culture. If a stereotype wasn’t based on a collection of true facts, it wouldn’t be used, because it wouldn’t make sense. A stereotype is an unfair thing to apply to anyone of any race, and that unfairness doesn't fail to reach all races either. Most rational people who see a black character in a comic book, realize that most black people don’t love watermelon more than anything, or walk with their pants halfway down. Just as any sensible person realizes that most white girls aren’t complete ditzes, and don’t only live off Starbucks.

An interesting thing I’ve noticed about the pursuit of civil rights, is how far off the mark we've gotten. Don’t get me wrong, diversity of race, culture, and ideas can be great, but when we make things like diversity of race our main focus in everything we do, that’s where things become counterproductive. If you really look closely at the progressive approach to diversity, it has simply become a “checkbox”. A “checkbox” that schools and businesses now use as a method to claim immunity against accusations of racism, regardless of whether genuine racism exists in those paces or not. Diversity has now become a gauge by which our culture  determines whether or not someone or something is racist, sexist, homophobic, etc. They look at it as a set of rules to follow, thus turning people of minority groups into playing cards. People become things. Not necessarily objects, but things. Rather than people, rather than individuals, we simply become a “black man/woman” a “white man/woman”, an “asian man/woman” and so on. We are reduced down to only what people can see about us for others to make judgements — And that’s what’s so counterproductive about the progressive’s approach to diversity. It rewires us to look only outwardly at others and ourselves as part of a race, and not as an individual.

Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous words were this — “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” — Is that not the end goal of abolishing racism and racially based stereotypes? So why do we spend so much time focussing on the color of our skin and separating ourselves accordingly? I share Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream. To one day look at every man, woman and child, not as a member of a specific race, creed, or way of life, but rather as an individual, unique, complex human being.

Maus

As someone who has done extensive research on World War II and the Holocaust, I found Maus to be a surprisingly accurate and engaging depiction of that part of history. While the graphic novel itself seemed to follow a very basic and formulaic structure to its visual layout, and the artwork was thickly rendered and relatively flat, I did still find enjoyment in it, and how powerful its story and message were. As I read deeper and deeper into the story, I kept wondering to myself why the story was told in an almost kid-friendly sense by making the characters animals. I understood the thought behind making the Jews mice and the Nazis cats as a means to depict the hideousness of racism at its worst form, but other than that, the fact that the characters were animals seemed almost arbitrary — That doesn't mean I didn't like that choice, I just mean to say I still don’t fully understand it. I will say, I found it’s kid-friendly aesthetic to be extremely fascinating when juxtaposed to the story and subject matter that it covered, and I appreciated the fact that it didn’t stray away from the reality of what happened. The Holocaust will forever be a horrible part of history, but it also contains many stories of redemption and human resilience, and I have great respect for both the survivors of those stories, as well as those who tell them.

Response to Tijuana Bibles

As I read the Tijuana Bibles, I had a hard time thinking of a way I could justify its value as a comic series, and not just aimless, comical porn. I realize that the series was an underground, raunchy comic, but I personally don’t think I could’ve ever gotten behind them as a series, even if I didn’t have a moral objection to the material.

I found nothing appealing about the comic. Its gags were lazy, crass, and unresolved. The drawings lacked polish and appeared to be drawn only to convey the most basic forms of information, those forms usually being penises and boobs. As the comic was printed on a smaller page, I understand that the drawings may need to be reduced when it comes to detail, but a lot of the illustrations weren’t even well-drawn. Proportions were incorrect, and sketches looked unfinished.

I did wonder where one bought these comics, and who the target audience was. Naturally they were marketed to “adults”, but as a demographic, I wondered what subcategory or subcategories of people bought this series. In terms of a comic that I could pick up and read, I find no appeal in the Tijuana Bibles, so I would’ve never bought it.

Blankets

I found Craig Thomson’s Blankets to be an extremely personal, relatable and well-told graphic story. I found myself engrossed and engaged in the narrative from start to finish. Thomson so eloquently translates the innocent thoughts and viewpoints of childhood into a visual form to the point where several times throughout the process of my reading, I clearly recalled from my own life the same memories and emotions the “characters” were experiencing.

Similarly to Thomson, I grew up in a very Christian home. I remember struggling with my own faith in God, and feeling as if I had no calling or purpose. I remember being sent to church-camp, and can attest to how fake and phony the people who go there really are — Not to the point of cursing, sex and drugs, but I was always disappointed to see how differently people behaved in of the chapel, to outside of it. I liked how the story was able to criticize the faults of modern Christianity without insulting or discrediting it, to me, when a story can do that, it makes its message so much more poignant.

Another thing I really appreciated about Blankets, was its nonlinear story structure. I enjoyed how it wove childhood memories into the bulk of the main story, relating the present back to the past. It opened a lot of opportunities to utilize a creative narration of the story. I was very pleased by Thomson’s ability to capture the internal thoughts of his “character”. By simply overlaying a thought bubble overtop a meadow of text, it clearly and elegantly conveys internal thought and external narration. I was able to read it in a very cinematic manner, and at many times, could even see it making an incredible and moving piece of cinema some day.

2001: A Space Odyssey

         Personally, I am very interested in Science Fiction as a genre. I love Star Wars, Star Trek, Firefly, and pretty much anything related to space. So I jumped at the opportunity to read the graphic retelling of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was surprised at how detailed the artwork was, as well as how cinematic the comic book ended up looking. The story progressed very similarly to that of Stanley Kubrick’s film, though I would say quicker, which is understandable, as it would have to in order to remain interesting and engaging. 

One thing I am curious about, is how well the comic would read for someone who isn’t familiar with the film and story of 2001. As I read it, I was able to envision everything to the full effect, as I have seen the film several times. But I did wonder how different the experience of reading this comic book would’ve been, if I were reading it as someone who had never even heard of 2001. I imagine it is a similar concept to seeing a film adaptation before you read a book (even though this is the other way around). It goes to show how much sound and motion can effect an experience.

Development and Messages

As I read the Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, and several other comic strips, one of the things I found interesting is how much the comics changed throughout their years of production. I liked comparing the older comics to the newer ones, and seeing the significance in the differences. Visually, the character designs developed a lot, backgrounds became more detailed, perspective improved, and generally, the later comics had a much more polished look. The stories and jokes improved significantly too. The first gag in Calvin and Hobbes was a stupid pun, and while it was funny, the later gags had layered humor, sophisticated jokes, and creative angles. It just went to show how much something good can improve to be something great.

Another thing I found fascinating about comic strips, were their relation to the current times. Many strips contained content that was either subliminally or obviously making a social commentary on a current event, or set of events. While I didn’t fully understand the whole message, as I wasn’t alive in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, I found it very interesting to see how comics were able to deliver an important and often poignant idea that related to modern times. It made me more aware of possible messages tied into comic strips today.

Understanding Comics

I found Understanding Comics to be an extremely informative, as well as a delightfully charming method of explaining what we subconsciously pick up on. There’s so much that goes into graphic story telling— Specifically comics and graphic narratives, that we simply don’t think about. We go along with the story that the comic has tailored, and don’t think twice about it, and that’s due to the carefully designed structure of how the comic was put together.

One of the points made within Understanding Comics that particularly stood out to me, was the point about icons. In our modern culture, icons have been around for so long, that a great deal of information, and even complex concepts can be conveyed through only a simple image. I find this to be particularly evident in Manga and other forms of Japanese cartoons, such as anime. The icons used within Manga have been used for so long, we are now conditioned to know exactly what is going on in the story, just by seeing them. For example, when a character is angry, we see a red vein pop up on their forehead, but that icon has been around for so long, its gotten to the point where the vein simply looks like a few giant red lines that don’t even have to be on the characters forehead— and we instantly understand, that character is angry.

In western culture, we have our own icons to convey certain concepts and ideas as well. One of my favorite uses of a icon, is in Calvin and Hobbes, and The Peanuts, to name a few. When a character is frustrated, a jagged scribble appears over their head. I find this particular icon to be quite charming, because of how simple and clear the meaning is, as well as the fact that it could almost be considered a self-aware effect. The frustration scribble can be looked at as the place where the artist’s world and the comic’s world connect. As an artist, when I get frustrated with a drawing, I occasionally scribble aggressively, so when I see that icon, I can instantly understand that emotion. It amazes me how we are able to communicate extremely deep and specific concepts even with something as simple as a scribble. 

The Arrival

Shaun Tan’s The Arrival is able to convey a very detailed and surprisingly clear story and message of immigration solely through illustrations. The story follows its protagonist on a journey from one country to another, as he searches for a new home and job for himself and his family. The illustrations capture the true feeling of being immersed in a completely foreign culture. By creating a world where strange machines are the primary form of transport, and bizarre creatures can be spotted in every direction, it puts us as the viewers in the same position as the main character. We are just as confused and astounded by this new and unfamiliar world as the main character.

The thing I really appreciated the more I thought about it, was the fact that the people the main character encountered, seemed normal, behaved normally, and did not act surprised by the bizarre surroundings. It reminded me of a time when my friend Mesphin visited America for the first time. Mesphin is Ethiopian, and had never left his home city before then. When my dad and I picked him up at the Chicago airport, he couldn’t stop staring at everything. It was like he had stepped into another world, he was in total culture shock. The Arrival incapsulates this feeling and concept perfectly, and does it without using a single word. It takes away our ability to understand through words, just as if we were placed in another country that did not share our language, and forces us to decipher everything through pure visuals.