Understanding Comics

Last week we read Scott McCloud's 'Understanding Comics'. Though a bit confusing at times, I found this introduction to the art of the comic book largely helpful. The fact that the book itself is a comic helps to visually strengthen the topic McCloud presents.

There is a lot of subjects in this book that intrigued me and some that where completely new to how I view comics. One thing that especially caught my interest and that I have witnessed in other media as well, is the way western vs. eastern artists choose to move the story forward, mainly by way of pacing and focus.

A lot of eastern visual storytelling evolves around or is aided by establishing a "mood or a sense of place" to use McClouds own words. In comics (or rather manga) this is largely created by a heavy use of moment to moment panels as well as panels showing nothing but environmental scenes. In movies and series it's the same principal, where great time is spent showing the journey of the characters and the landscape they're traveling through, or going about chores such as cooking or cleaning.

From up on poppy hill, Studio Ghibli.

In western culture however the focus tends to lie in action based storytelling, where a lot of things happen very quickly and where the plot is driven by the characters. If scenes occur where the characters do travel, attend to chores or is having a meal the focus is still centered round the character by way of action or dialogue and is usually just a means of showing that character in a certain light.

Cartoon Network's The amazing world of Gumball.

Though I find certain enjoyment in both of these approaches, the eastern way gives me a particular sense of satisfaction. I often find my self tired after watching for example an American TV show and though momentarily amused, it often tends to leave something unfulfilled when ended. Movies like those from Studio Ghibli allows me to live within that world rather than simply being a bystander. When ended and even during parts of the movie I often find myself contemplating and just feeling what is happening within the story.

I'll admit that I have yet to read more comic books and manga to make the same comparison within those genres, so I am looking forward to see what I will learn in this class as the semester progresses.

Lit. of Comics and the Graphic Narrative

Being in a school that doesn't allow for much time spent on anything but studies, I once again decided to take a literature class to quench the thirst for reading, and to get the opportunity to think about and discuss what we have read. This time I'm learning about comics and the graphic narrative, and even this far into the semester I can safely say there's a lot more to this subject than I imagined.

Harbour. By; Shaun Tan

Our first assignment was to read The Arrival; a graphic novel by Australian artist and author Shaun Tan. Tan mainly deals with social, political and historical issues. The Arrival focuses on immigration, and with the use of nothing but pencil drawings Tan tells the story of a man who travels to a new country to find a better life for himself and his family. In this strange land such mundane things as communicating, understanding the functions of every day items, buying tickets, going to the market and knowing what to eat and what not to eat becomes an immense struggle. Luckily the protagonist meats kind people who are willing to aid him in understanding the new culture; often times people who have suffered similar fates to his own.

The structure of this book is very interesting. Tan works in graphite, but he has used digital media in order to add warm or cool tones to the panels, and subtle textures to give the feeling of old photographs. The art in this book has a very realistic approach yet a lot of the subject matter is both whimsical and otherworldly; an aspect that works as a great tool for this kind of storytelling.

Even though the arrival is mainly rooted in the immigration into Australia, the world Shaun Tan builds is one that doesn't exist other than in his storytelling universe, yet all the trials the people in this story faces are very much real. The effect is that Tan has created a hugely universal story; one that, no matter where we come from, we can find something to relate to. Weather it's the alienation, the fear or the welcome support of a kind fellow being, the feeling is well communicated.

Personally I find this graphic novel more moving than many comic books that uses words as a storytelling aid. A big reason behind this lies of course not only in the beauty of the images, but how those images communicate the story; the subject matter, the pacing and the progression of the content. Shaun Tan uses a variety pacing for the panels. Some where he zooms out to show the entire setting of a scene, letting it take up the entire page, and some smaller panels that focuses on an action, shown in longer sequences of moment to moment. In moments of distress, the story moves faster: from action to action or even scene to scene. The lack of words makes for a story that feels more intimate by focusing more on the emotional rather than intellectual experience of the situation.

Shaun Tan has been one of my favorit storytellers for a long time now, and is probably the one that has influenced my love of art the most. If you have yet to discover his wondrous world, I warmly recommend reading any of his works.

The market. By; Shaun Tan

http://www.shauntan.net

Literary speculation.

The class we're taking, Literature of Horror, Fanstay & Sci-Fi, for which I created this blog, main purpose (from what I understand) is to discuss genre, it's subcategories and what defines each of them. Although a keen reader, who will gobble up mostly any work of literature put infront of me, I must admit that, before taking this class, I had no idea there was such a distinction as genre vs. literary fiction. From what I gather, after discussing it in class and reading up on it some more, while genre has certain elements that distinguishes one from the other, literary fiction is harder to place, falling in to either several or neither of the genre categories. While genre also focuses more on entertainment, literary fiction tries rather to emphasize meaning. This can be done through evocative language, thematic purpose and dimensional characters. And then of course, there are some works of fiction who falls into both categories.

So the question arises, is one better or more important than the other? To this, my instant response would be no. While understanding the presence of genre, as a way to not confuse the reader (or the writer) too much in what the work is trying to communicate, and by way of more easily finding what you're looking for in the bookstore, they each have something of worth to communicate.

I found it interesting to hear from our teacher that, even as late as by the time Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings came out, genre wasn't really a thing, but is rather something that has arisen after that. And now, all of a sudden, there are people that frown if you can't place your work into a genre, or if you have elements that border between the genres.

Then I wonder, have we always been such snobs when it comes to literature? As long as the work is well written and enjoyed by the reader as well as the writer, what difference does it make weather or not the work can fall into a certain category, really? Personally I find that works of literature that are more free and playful in it's expression; books that does not worry so much about what category they fall into, but rather that is formed in a way that works best for the story it's trying to convey, weather it be genre or literary, are the ones I enjoy reading the most, and are also the ones I learn the most from. Good examples of this are the stories created by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett who doesn't necessarily fall in to any genre, and writers such as Joyce Carol Oates, and Nicolas Sparks, who clearly falls into the distinction of romance and drama; yet they're all writers who are cherished and appreciated across the globe.

I do think it's a good thing genre exists, if nothing else to create that variety by having certain guidelines, but I find it equally important to be able to break from those guidelines without being frowned upon. Because in order to convey a truly great story, how important is categorisation, really?

Witches; female archetypes.

In addition to to watching Studio Ghiblis Kiki's delivery service this week (a wonderful movie I highly suggest watching if you haven't already), and Suspiria from 1977, we also read Diana Wynne Jones's Aunt Maria. 

They all had quite different takes on witches that are interesting to look at, but I'm going to focus on Aunt Maria for now.

Aunt Maria, with a couple of major exceptions, bordered rather on phycology than direct magic or teachings of herbs and nature (things I associate with witches). In fact, it took some time before anything extraordinary happened at all. That said, the book was still captivating from beginning to end, through Diana Wynne Jones's excellent description of the family's situation and how they get progressively merged in these circumstances that neither of them wish to be in. As I was reading, I got very emotionally invested in the characters, mirroring their frustration. On a couple of occasions, I even caught myself cursing out loud when Aunt Maria did something extra vile.

As the story progresses, we come to understand that the town where the story takes place, is divided in two opposing groups, the women and the men, that each wield their own type of power.  The men's power is less discrete and is kept in a small box that is entrusted to a caretaker. The women on the other hand wields their power mainly through manipulation, which is why the more obvious elements of magic appears first later in the tale.

Aunt Maria herself is almost a metaphor for a queen bee. She seems to be the center of the entire town and everyone yields to her every bidding. What's making it all so scary is that she enforces her power by appearing to be helpless, in her old and crippled state, while imposing guilt upon everyone to make them do as she wishes. In a way this suggests a kind of archetype, where womanise their cunning while men use brute force. In this case however, the stereotype is broken by the mother, who gets fed up with all tip-toeing around and wants to take instant action, and by the carrier of the mens magical box, who is tired of fighting.

While there are some clear stereotypes in the book, they all play an efficient part of the story, and most of them show personal growth as the plot moves along. The fact that it's narrated by the main protagonist almost like a diary, gives it another satisfying dimension, that adds to the actual story.

Response to Bloodchild.

In class we got to read a short story by Octavia Butler called Bloodchild, and was assigned to answer these questions.

1. Are there any prominent symbols in the story? If so, what are they and how are they used?

The story was obviously a discussion about slavery and class differentiations based on race. There where hints that humans (here referred to as Terrans) had landed on this different planet som time ago, and was now living under the mercy of the planets inhabitants; centipede-like creatures called the Tlic. What intrigued and bothered me the most was that the Tlic saw (or at least tried to give the appearance of) themselves as bringing mercy to the Terrans, taking them in and saving them from heir own race and the harsh climate they lived in. (Sounds familiar?) We understand that the characters in the story are locked up in what is referred to as the Preserve(!), where humans are preserved for breeding purposes, ensuring that the Tlic, who is a parasitic race, never run out of Terrans that are suitable for carrying their eggs.

The Tlic claim the Terrans are free and honoured members of the society, yet they're not given the choice. They are free in the sense that they are raised to believe what they're experiencing is right, so they don't even question the situation. It's all they know. The Tlic are taking advantage of their situation to manipulate the Terrans, thereby writing it off as justified. They're in the right simply because of the fact that they can get away with it. True freedom you say? 

Bloodchild is told from the perspective of one of the Terrans that are specifically meant to carry the eggs of a Tlic. Within a short span of time we get to experience his inner struggle as he is faced with the true nature of his situation, and the stages of ignorance, realisation, denial and finally acceptance.

2. What connections did you make with the story? Discuss the elements of the work with which you where able to connect.

I found the story to be very expertly told in the sense that not only was I able to understand the situation as oppressive and wrong, but also the protagonists doubts and turmoil through the way the story was written. Even though I was deeply disturbed and frustrated, I could somehow relate to the characters in the story enough to understand their choices. There's the influential authority, the protective yet subdued mother, the jealous sister, the free minded and rebellious brother that's only trying to look after himself, and the protagonist; attentive and reflecting yet completely under the influence of his "captivator".

In a broad sense, this situation can be applied to a lot of things in this world, not restricted crudely to slavery. Even though originally meant to be something helpful (at least so I hope) authority has a nasty habit of evolving into selfish needs and oppression of those with less influence. Even when authority should rightfully be opened for questioning (such as in the government, or in a smaller scale, a school) where every decision affects the people that are exposed to and has to follow them. Somehow the right to decide over others tends to fall into the hands of people that doesn't actually have to abide by the rules. How and why does this happen?

If the decisions are right, having someone questioning them should sensibly not be a problem. If ones decisions are justified, one should be able to have them disputed without loosing ones footing. We have the right to question things that affects our way of living, and if we're wrong, well then at least we've gotten the chance to air our opinion and understand the situation better. If we don't even get the chance to question, or if our questions are not being adhered to, then we know that authority is being misused.

As for the characters in the story, they all show clear human traits that respond well to the unfolding of events and can likewise be placed in various other situations.

3. What changes would you make to adapt this story into another medium? What medium would you use?

The story was told in a way that didn't give away the entirety of the situation but rather let up to it, leaving the reader speculating and wondering most of the way through. The Tlic for example was described as crawling, with many limbs and a broad face, but the rest is entirely left to our imagination. The fact that they are parasitic is suggested maybe halfway through the story and in not so many words. Some hints where made about the situation, but most emphasis was laid on the emotional experiences of the protagonist. It made the story eery and leaving the reader slightly uncomfortable. Not because of what was shown, but rather what was left out. Adopting this story to a medium such as a play, a film or a graphic novel would therefore unavoidably change the atmosphere as it then becomes more visual. One would have to build atmosphere without making it into horror because that is not the purpose of the story.

Having the story read out by someone in audio form or adopted into a radio play would be very interesting and probably more true to the original intent. I'm quite intrigued to see what kind of music would accompany it; how it would be interpreted in notes.

As it is, I feel the story has found it's right medium. Judging by the reactions of some of my classmates, Bloodchild certainly managed to provoke both thought and emotion. It is a message in it's own right.

The new weird.

(Warning: some spoilers may appear)

The New Weird is something of an interesting topic. Ranging from somewhere between horror, science-fiction and fantasy, new weird holds it's story base in the supernatural and bizarre. Tugging at our nervous minds by twisting our existence in on itself, the stories reveal dark corners of the world that maybe should have remained hidden. They take on things that we fear and make them even scarier by removing the rime and reason behind what we thought we knew.

Two good examples of this is the book Krakken by China Miéville and the movie Freaks (1932). Freaks had a provocative take on this theme. The movie plays off of alienation, having the setting within a circus where a lot of the characters stand out from the norm because of their features or other qualities, and thereby are exposed to others ridicule, resentment or the entertainment of others. 

Throughout the movie, I felt they did a good job of showing character portraits, bringing them to an equal level and showing the humanity and compassion between all (or most) of the people living within the circus. The ones referred to as 'the freaks' had a very touching friendship community that truly made it upsetting to see how some of the other circus artists, even when exposed to it, where still unable to see them as anything more than freaks.

While keeping this tone throughout the movie, the end had an interesting twist where one of the members of the 'freak-community' had been viciously deceived by two of the other circus members and the freaks show just how capable they are of standing up for themselves, bringing out a most horrifying side. Seeing the movie, I couldn't help but hurraying them for bringing down their justice and scaring the bejesus out the atrocious couple that had deceived one of their own. While having a heart as kind and soft as feathers to anyone who treated them well, the harsh world had certainly left its mark on them, and they did not take kindly to misstreatment.

As for Krakken, I was quite captivated by this book. While expertly crafted, it creates a perfect marriage between religion, science and magic. A young scientist specialising in the conservation and research of mollusks gets involuntarily wrapped up in a religious war where he encounters talking tattoos, a man who can swallow a person whole, a police detective with a controversial skill set and a shop owner who specialises in origami which involves not only folding paper, but humans as well. 

This is a book I likely wouldn't have picked up if it weren't on the required reading list, which is one of the reasons I enjoy this class so much. Literature is a wondrous way of being exposed to the strange and beautiful minds in this world we otherwise might have missed out on. We are given ideas thrown in our face that are radically different from our own, ideas that we might disregard as outrageous, bland or upsetting. Or in those magical moments, ideas that sparks our own minds to embellish and explore. Either way, the important thing is that we are exposed to something that is not coming directly from our selves, and that challenges our way of thinking.

Being a student at an art school, I am struck by the notion that anything that evolves out the normal tangible societal system is a possible base for the new weird. That includes storytellers, artists that are hiding in the shadow of their own work, scientists working in dark labs with theories and substances that to an outsider seamed to be out of this world. What is stirring in those secluded minds? What secrets do they hold that is unreachable for the rest of us? 

When I was younger I used discuss this tendency with my friends; how people used to see us as weird and how hard it could be to communicate on the same level. Not that any one of them was better or worse, we just had a different way of thinking from one another and of perceiving the world around us. The difficulty came in communicating across borders. Here, where the outside world tends to fade into something of an awareness yet not present, and where a lot of people have backgrounds of being excluded or alienated in their previous communities, they are united by the very same factors. We're all so different, but we see the world from somewhat of the same angles; from behind the curtains, examining the workings of the world backstage rather than from the front row seats. We try to observe the preparations, the dressing rooms as one person changes into another completely, the little secret signs and the small needles that keeps a dress together where it was too large. And when we leave the backstage to take part in the audience we can no longer see the show without analysing it. We get a second dimension because we've observed the tricks to create the elusion. That's what new weird is to me; peeking behind the curtains of something we take for granted to see the possible dimensions that lie beneath. New weird doesn't grasp from thin air to create simple fiction of our imagination, it elaborates on what already there, thereby making it believable in the most eerie sense.

As trends are moving forward and our society is drastically changed by new gadgets, cultural influences across borders and experimental thinking, things that before seemed strange and frightening are stepping out into the light and becoming norm, whereas new unknown factors arise to present more fascination. Doomsday predictions spread across genres, and although a lot of what's new in our melding pot of a world will unavoidably seep into the new weird, I believe the heart and soul of the genre will remain the same, leaving a lot of the 'new world' fascination and dystopia to the cyberpunk and sci-fi genres.

Young Kraken in Training, by Barak Ashraf

Gotcha!

J-horror, a different mindset.

Triptych of Takiyasha the With and the Skeleton Spectre, by Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1797 - 1861)

This week we focused on Japanese horror as opposed to Western horror. We were assigned to read a collection of short stories based on Japanese folklore, called Kwaidan, and in class we watched a movie where sections of the book had been translated onto the screen.

I highly enjoyed reading these stories, and was both surprised and delighted to find that they diverged so much from most of the horror I've previously been exposed to. When thinking about J-horror, my mind inadvertently goes to movies such as The grudge, or The ring, where the horror element is high and there is jump scares and if not gore, then human distortion. Reading the Kwaidan however was a completely different experience.

Though there is a distinct difference between western and Asian horror, I still find they carry certain similarities that sometimes makes it difficult to discern between the two. They both use ghosts and ghouls as tools to convey a message, though I find stories as the ones in the Kwaidan to refer more to folklore and principals of tradition and culture than western horror does.

What appeals to me the most about the Kwaidan, as apposed to western horror, is the tone in which the stories are presented. At first I didn't find the stories scary at all, but rather mellow, even sad. As I kept reading, more disturbing elements crept into the stories. There where ducks turning themselves inside out to display their sorrow of loosing a loved one; there were maidens without faces, creatures with the ability to remove their heads from their bodies without dying, and monks cursed to devour the corpses of the dead.

In our class we discussed how Asian vs Western horror handle the factor of good versus evil. Though we can defiantly argue that it is more prominent in western horror, it is not completely absent in J-horror. In Kwaidan there are creatures that seek to deceive and harm humans, merely because it is part of their nature. I think that might hit the core difference. While in western horror, the things that are scary has been dislodged from their natural state to become something twisted and ill natured, in J-horror the frightening elements are a natural part, and sometimes even a direct embodiment of the spiritual or physical world. Instead of fighting against them with elements of opposing powers or believes, the characters in the story need to play by the rules of the spirits in order to overcome or avoid them with the spirit's own means.

With the stories of the Kwaidan, everything from the cultural setting to the oral tone suggests something more connectable to the world than many of the Western horror stories I've taken part of. Western horror seems to retaliate more to the individual person as acting through or against beastial behaviour and sin, while J-horror goes deeper and further, raging beyond our own believes and brief comprehensions. It gives J-horror an air of something constantly present and rudimentary intriguing in it's suggestion that everything is connected rather than separate. That the things that scare us the most are not simply hiding in the shadows. They are repercussions of the actions of us humans rather than something demonic. It is part of the mountains and stones, rivers and wildlife. It is life just as much as it is death. It is everywhere and all the time. Our fears are generated by something very real integrated in the essence of our world.