(Supposed to Be) Last Post!!!! Reflections on Torture, FMA, Final Paper...

This is supposed to be my last post, but I think I still have to finish two more on Berlin to catch up. The goal this time is by tomorrow....



Anyways, this final paper seems to me to be very different from the papers that I've written before. Obviously teachers usually don't want pictures to waste space in papers, but the main difference is Spencer wanting us to take a more complicated and less restrictive approach from the standard thesis-driven paper.

In what little free time I have, I have over the past few months been watching the anime Full Metal Alchemist. It is probably considered an old anime by now, but it was and is very popular, and for good reason. Though I am annoyed with the third and fourth openings, the music is good to decent. Not as good as Tsubasa Chronicle. The characters are complex and well-developed over time. However, the best part of Full Metal Alchemist is its often-times shocking thematic elements and motifs. An obvious parallel is that to Nazi Germany, and the plot even contains the equivalent of an albeit smaller Holocaust. Discrimination and militarism are blatant, and it is interesting to see how the protagonists deal with each. Examples of more subtle themes unfortunately would spoil the plot. I would definitely give this anime a 10 out of 10 and recommend it to anyone, though. Also, it is interesting to see some stylistic manga elements in the anime--in a few (or one episode) the screen is even split up to form panels, and the emotional reactions of the characters are often depicted in amusingly iconic ways.



On to class-related topics, though. Namely, torture. Torture, which is supposed to be a taboo, but is widely and clandestinely practiced throughout the world. I'm not even going to touch torture in the United States, but I am appalled at the state of affairs in Israel. I completely agree with Sacco's ironic use of "Israel is the Middle East's only democracy."

History Forgotten

While I have been very lackadaisical in regards to posting lately, I do intend to make it all up by the time the schoolyear ends. Hopefully before Wednesday's class period.

Now, in regards to Palestine....

It was very difficult for me to get accustomed to Sacco's style of comics. I find his drawings very unaesthestic, especially the grotesquely oversized mouths. The details are amazing, but the way he draws his people...I honestly do not see anything attractive about the two Israeli girls he drools about in one of the first few chapters. But the form of his comics was also really confusing at first; maybe I'm stupid or something, but I had difficulty separating the different content bubbles. He has thought bubbles, rectangles with words, and speech bubbles all intertwined so it's difficult to follow a conversation. Superficialities aside, though, Palestine stands out thematically.

Sacco himself is an amusing if ironic observer. It is what he portrays, though, that is really shocking. I am ashamed of America's foreign policy on Israel now, and especially Israelis' treatment of the Palestinians. It's like once the European Jews got out of the Holocaust, they turn around and apply the "lessons" the Nazis taught them to the Palestinians. Now, don't get me wrong, I have strong sympathy for the Jewish people, having a somewhat morbid fascination with the Holocaust--accounts like Art Spiegelman's Maus and Martin Amis's Time's Arrow (even though it's fictional) really open up your eyes to the horrifying extent of the atrocities that were committed. I've read the philosophical treatment of the Holocaust and bigotry in Sartre's Anti-Semite and Jew, and reacted with anger upon learning in AP US History class about the Roosevelt administration's apathy to the plight of the Jews.

But all this history does -not- give the Jews an excuse to give the Palestinians treatment that is pretty much on par with the treatment they received at the hands of the Nazis. I don't know if Sacco is making a conscious comparison, but his anecdotes about Palestinians strike some uncanny resemblences to things I have learned about the Holocaust. For instance, the Palestinian stories about Israeli settlers throwing rocks through windows is eerily reminiscent of Krystallnacht. The prison camps, like Ansar III, are concentration camp-esque. The dominance of the Israeli military, the torture, the overzealous responses to minor Palestinian infractions. Some aspects of the conflict seem to be disanalogous--the intense hatred and terroristic subversion on the part of the Palestinians, for instance. They are not merely submissive victims (not implying that the Jews were), but what is really painful about the situation is how the Israelis dehumanize the Palestinians to the point where prominent leaders such as Golda Meir deny the very existence of the Palestinians.

Don't the Jews remember that they, too, were once victims of an attempt to erase them from history?

A Mystery Unresolved?

I still stand by my previous assessment of Fun Home, although I have to admit at times her literary comparisons are starting to sound a little contrived. Trite and contrived. Or perhaps I'm just annoyed that I'm missing so much meaning in the last comparison by not having read either Ulysses or the Odyssey. I did like Joyce's other works, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Dubliners, though. Perhaps I'll give Ulysses a try someday, though I heard you have to have a ton of notes to read it. And Finnegan's Wake just scares me.

In any case, although the book mainly focuses on the relationship between Alison and her dad, it is her mother's character who intrigues me. Yes, she seems distant and fails to fulfill certain motherly duties, such as giving Alison adequate attention. But for the most part she does her job well and even steps in when Alison's handwriting degenerates. I tend to blame her mother's long history with her father for her distant, apathetic attitude. What I don't get is--why did they get married in the first place? And why does she stay with Alison's dad for so long? I would've left after the first whiff of an affair. I feel like Alison's mom is consenting to sacrifice her freedom and life, even, just to play a part in Alison's dad's big cover-up scheme.

What's in a Name?

I'm not sure I ever bothered to reflect on the title of Stuck Rubber Baby. Fun Home's title is certainly a lot more obvious, though at this point I'm seriously doubting that the Fun Home is that important to the novel--the relationships in her life appear to be much more important. What of the word "Tragicomic" in the title, though? I Wikipedia-ed (is there a better neologism for this verb?) tragicomedy, the portmanteau from which tragicomic is obviously derived and discovered another apparent fact: it refers to fiction with both elements of tragedy and comedy, duh. An antiquated definition refers to a serious play with a happy ending. Somehow I doubt Bechdel was using that second definition. And Fun Home certainly fits the first definition--it's funny in a dark, satiric, absurd kind of way but you get the feeling that there's something even more darkly serious and profound lurking in the background of her humor.

In any case, I do like this tragicomic a lot. Bechdel's art is very detailed, her people don't look like squirrels, and the shades of blue are a nice change from the black and white of Stuck Rubber Baby. If there is a criticism to be made, it is perhaps the uniformity of the paneling for the majority of the pages, but when she deviates from the norm she does so quite effectively. I particularly like the inserted texts and the use of photos, which are rare in graphic novels.

Speaking of the inserted texts, the comparisons to fiction and her verbose use of language are probably among my favorite aspects of the novel. It is nice to learn how Proust and Fitzgerald tie in to her father's life--how he can seem real to her only through fiction. It creates a sense of disconnection while at the same time revealing how literature functions in our lives. As for her diction, it is quite sesquipedalian for a graphic novel. I enjoy learning new words like prestidigitation and she uses her vocabulary quite well to create both background and humor.

The Sound of Music

Okay, this is my first completely unrelated post as I don't feel like blogging about Stuck Rubber Baby or the mini-comics.So I will speak briefly about some of my favorite music, video game and anime music. Yes, I know I am a nerd but not much of the popular stuff around nowadays appeals to me. In fact, I think it's all quite shitty--mass marketed and processed in a box to the lowest common denominator. Pop nowadays is shallow and superficial, lip-synced to by any pretty slut. Hip-hop and R&B is just repetitively annoying, with meaningless obscenity thrown in and degrading videos of more sluts. Thus I have resorted to video game and anime music.



Anyways, here's an example of a very talented pianist playing a song from Bleach. I haven't seen Bleach, though it's supposed to be one of the most popular anime, but I plan on it. I mainly put this up because I want to learn this song one day--it's rather uplifting and fast-paced. My favorite music incorporates piano or is all piano as I just have an affinity for piano music. I took lessons for about a year and a half and have taught myself some Final Fantasy X songs. Classical music won't be in my repertoire.



This is from Super Smash Bros Brawl, the newest in the popular Nintendo fighting games. I still haven't played it unfortunately, but I intend to--it looks awesome. I've heard it's more n00b-oriented, so hopefully I'll do better at Brawl than Melee. Originally though, this song was from some Kirby game which I'm too lazy to look up and it's the theme for one of his enemies, MetaKnight. Metaknight, I've heard, is a pretty good character in Brawl and he looks basically like Kirby in armor with a sword.

Yeah, I don't watch YouTube videos, I listen to them.

Unwanted

I find that I like Stuck Rubber Baby less and less as the book drags on, becoming more trite in terms of narrative and overabundant detail. Honestly, unless someone is crafting a graphic novel like Watchmen that absolutely requires such detail, he needs to go easy on readers. The story isn't as compelling anymore and the themes get old when mired in a surplus of detail. Parsimony is a word that Cruse needs to learn.

As an aside, I also feel the need to rail against the main characters' moral failings. Honestly, Toland is way too self-absorbed and starting to look like the main character in Blankets more and more with his dependency on Ginger. I feel like he's just using her as a lifeline or a facade to convince others he's not gay rather than for any substantial relationship. It's quite aggravating how he gets all high and mighty by proposing a marriage in which he's free to cheat and then speciously asks why she'd want to "experiment" since she's not gay. He shows absolutely no guilt for lying to Riley (not that I much like Riley as an upstanding example of morality either) about his whereabouts and then hopping in the sack with Les. Likewise, I have no idea why Ginger is even in a relationship with Toland. She does not seem to care one whit for him and always talks condescendingly down to him, even while he deifies her like Craig did to Raina.

Now some might criticize me for wanting all characters in a story to fit into my prescribed moral categories, but I'm just complaining about the lack of a strong stable relationship example in the novel. I wish there was something that worked among all the dysfunctional relations among the characters. But perhaps I'm being a hopeless romantic, and such positivity would undermine the point of the comic. Though of course, there is one such example of such a relationship, and that's the one between the older Toland narrating and his boyfriend.

Nevertheless, the comic does bring up some poignant themes to address, and I still count it above Portraits from Life for that. One of these, recently examined in Juno, is unwanted pregnancy and its proliferation in today's society. Granted, during the 60s births out of wedlock were fairly uncommon and frowned upon in general society, as Orley's sensibilities demonstrated. However, his divorce from Melanie foreshadows the cascade of divorces in the 70s and the changing social mores. Even back then Ginger faced the same difficult choices many nonmarried mothers face today.

An Atheist on Religion

After finishing the second half of the assigned reading, I've decided that I do really like Stuck Rubber Baby, regardless of Cruse's unaesthetic drawing style. The detail involved allows me to focus mainly on the narrative and any visual elements that stick out, such as the use of thought bubble panels.
The focus of this blog though, is religion in Stuck Rubber Baby, a topic I believe can be written about without reference to the "graphic" aspect of the novel as per Spencer's instructions. Personally I have never had much use for religion, finding it too difficult to accept any church's tenets on blind faith and seeing far too much hypocrisy in its practitioners.
Part of the reason why I like Cruse's novel is that it portrays the civil rights movement in a very personal way that history books and other anecdotes have failed to do for me so far. The dogmatic, myopic, and pervasive hatred of the Southern whites for anyone who doesn't fit in their little conservative world view is just astonishing. I feel saddened by the strong antipathy of the bigoted that is based on so little understanding. What also saddens me, though it confirms my belief of the religious as hypocritical, is the role of religion in fermenting blind hatred.
There are little details throughout the book that indicate this, including the KKK-esque nature of a religious newspaper. However, the character of Orley, Toland's brother-in-law, probably demonstrates religious prejudice the best. He melodramatically says he will pray for Toland's soul and warns him quite graphically about the tortures of Hell in order to prevent Toland from straying away from societal norms. Never mind any reasoned arguments to believe in God. Just play the fear card, and people will follow like sheep, as the government found out after 9/11.
Other hateful characters aren't shown to blatantly be religious, but considering the background of the era, they probably have used religion to justify their bigotry. In Congress the Civil Rights Act was filibustered by a few white Southern Senators who used the Bible--specifically passages in Leviticus (hmm, also the part of the Bible from which anti-gay sentiments are drawn)--to justify slavery. The extreme violence demonstrated by antagonists in the novel highlights the hypocrisy of the whole supposedly devout Christian South. I guess Jesus's advice to "love each other as I have loved you" only applies to select individuals.
Of course, religion isn't depicted as a tool used to justify one's beliefs in all cases in the book. In fact, African American churches and ministers were rallying points for the civil rights movement. Toland even reflects on the schism between the freedom and justice-themed black churches and the white fear-mongering preachers on the radio who denounce the protests.
In any case, both sides have essentially proclaimed that God is on their side, as quite often happens in times of conflict. Religious fervor is a double-edged sword that can be used to unite and even comfort, or to inflame hatred. How convenient that an omnipotent God doesn't set them straight.

To be continued....

Since I didn't get a chance to finish the Stuck Rubber Baby reading I will elaborate on it later. For now, though...I will say that Cruse impresses me artistically and politically. When Spencer said in class that this graphic novel would be more historical and focused on civil rights, I somehow got the impression that it would be about slavery as I've read so many slavery-oriented books in high school. But this is much better--an in depth focus on the underground culture of the 60s civil rights movement, a troubled era that today is understood by too few students.

Injustice Served

Some clarifications first: my original opinion that Portraits from Life has an annoying narrative style and lacks complexity (the story of Ethel Catherwood, for instance, is laid out clearly, simplistically, and in my opinion boringly, with no room for the reader to draw conclusions of his own) still stands, albeit with some emendations. I can see in some cases how Collier's style of journalistic comics and his use of perspective can be mitigating factors, such as in the David Milgaard story. In other cases, though, as in Richard Collier's story, the perspective changes and flashbacks in time are disorienting for no damn reason. They are presented in random nonlinear ways that have no purpose except to confuse/annoy the reader, just like the overuse of exclamation marks. Even while reading the David Milgaard story I got fed up with the abrupt and arbitrary scene switches between the investigator (David himself, I think) and the past. In Watchmen at least, the narratives all twined together and had a purpose in the end. In the David Milgaard story, it seems like Collier is attempting to use perspective changes to create profundity that simply isn't there.
Furthermore, except for the last story, I think Collier does a poor job of incorporating social commentary in his comics. Just the fact that Ethel Catherwood was a female athlete or that she went into seclusion after her celebrity does not grant the story a profound political angle or raise any important ideological questions. Collier tries too hard to incorporate political elements into everyday stories (for another example, Richard comments on accepting gays) but he still fails in his attempt to cover up the mundane. In other words, I see no reason to care about the characters or any larger social applications of most of the stories. Learning about the Grey Owl hoax might be a fun fact to know or anecdote to tell, but what great significance does his story have? Watchmen and V for Vendetta were much better at addressing problems in society. Though perhaps I am using unfair comparisons by holding Portraits up to these standards.
Okay, now for more detailed comments on the last story, which does partly redeem this graphic novel. I did enjoy Collier's expose of the corruption of the Canadian law enforcement and legal system in condemning David Milgaard to prison for a crime he didn't commit (as an aside, the real killer and rapist is seriously f*ked up--I did not need to know the graphic details of his crimes). This story also sends out a strong message about discrimination and stereotypes: everyone scapegoated Milgaard because of his deviant ways and refused to face up to the truth. The real killer was the exact opposite of Milgaard: respected, well-shaven, in stable relationships, had a stable job, etc. Shows how useful superficial perceptions and judgments are. It also demonstrates how susceptible people are to biased views based on their preconceptions: in other words, the police pressured the witnesses to give evidence that Milgaard was guilty because they believed he was guilty, not on the basis of any good empirical evidence. Sigh, the decline of reason is all too apparent. Though I was also extremely disturbed by the witnesses' lack of moral stamina and their sycophantic pandering to the pressure of the police to give falsified anti-Milgaard testimony. This is a scary example of how justice fails in the Canadian system.

As another aside, Canada is not important (or cool, as I think Spencer tried to imply in class) and this story is more proof of it (not that our legal system is perfect). Though I am probably more annoyed at the fallibility of people with conservative views on personal issues, which is present here too. To sum it up, conservatives and fundys (fundamentalists) suck.

Snapshots

I get the feeling that Portraits from Life is probably going to be my least favorite comic so far. I hold narration in high regard...and it's pretty lackluster. There are way too many exclamation marks that make it seem like you should care about the stories, but you really don't. The few panels without narration are a welcome sight...

It is difficult for me to relate as much to these stories partially because of the setting. Despite its being our neighbor (and despite the fact that I've lived there), Canada really isn't on my mind that much. Who cares about Canada, anyways? It's not like it's important in IR (international affairs). So the setting and the names are a bit unfamiliar--when Grey Owl refers to the federal government, I keep thinking it's our federal government. I didn't have this difficulty with V for Vendetta because Moore did a good job of making his world believable and I just have more consciousness of the British way of life, I suppose.

That being said, Collier does incorporate some neat stylistic elements. I like his nuanced drawing style and he uses unusual devices to get points across at times. For instance, in the Ethel Catherwood story, her coach looks like he's floating horizontally when he first sees her as an indication of the magnitude of his surprise. Another visual element that I liked were the wolves' howls in the Grey Owl story, which stretched across panels and steadily increased in size to illustrate a corresponding increase in volume. Collier's drawing style incorporates creative elements and more "action" indicators that are reminiscent of Blankets.

V. V. V. V. V.

Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici. "By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe."

A quote attributed to Dr. John Faust, who made a pact with the devil in order to gain knowledge and power, but sold his soul in the process. This quote and its context applies to both Evey and V in a differing manner. Evey believes she is tricked by V into making a deal that enables him to kill a man. But is V really representative of Mephistopheles here? I, for one, don't think so, since the priest is far more devilish than V. He preaches to the sheep about the evils lurking outside when in reality he is a corrupt hypocrite. He is a pedophile who preys on young girls and even has pedophiliac porn. Do his actions warrant murder, however? Evey doesn't think so, but V is trying to show her the true nature of the minister--the injustice that bestows upon V the power, but not necessarily the right, to conquer it.

Throughout the comic Evey struggles with the morality of killing even those who can be said to deserve death. She does not savor the idea of killing in order to achieve justice/anarchy--she does not want to be the judge of others' souls. Nevertheless, her emotions for her lover override her sense of morality and she attempts to kill his killer in revenge. Does this lapse demonstrate how weak her morals are? I think it only shows that she is human and prone to despair after the perceived abandonment of all of her protectors--her father, V, and her lover. After all, when V offers her the chance to get revenge, she does not take it, even after her transformation in a fake concentration camp.

On another note, I am thankful for Spencer's definition of cognitive estrangement. It's a much simpler way of saying what I've always liked about science fiction--that it thematically comments on human behavior and society with a freedom of context that no other genre has. My favorite science fiction authors, Orson Scott Card and Isaac Asimov, exemplify this concept of cognitive estrangement. Or at least I think so. In any case, I feel that science fiction has been unfairly scorned in the literary community (like graphic novels have been) and that this concept lends it more validity in critics' eyes--not that their opinion really matters.

Dystopia

V for Vendetta is a dystopic novel. I like novels with dystopias in them, for some strange reason. Perhaps it is because dystopia is what I fear will happen to our government. Or perhaps it's because dystopic novels necessarily feature an underdog protagonist that is attempting to somehow subvert an overbearing Big Brother.


In any case, with Moore's graphic novels it always seems like I dislike his endings. I just want the comic to continue because the story is that engaging:P....though I suppose V runs out of prominent targets eventually. Though my reason for disliking the ending this time is more facetious: I want to know who V is! Those first two panels showing the men Evey imagines V to be are rather ambiguous and I can't make out who they are; I'm guessing one of them is her lover. But who is the other? I suppose knowing who V is does detract from his mystique, though....



Anyways, I can't decide whether I like V for Vendetta or Watchmen better, but I will focus on a favorable aspect in the former: the complexity of the antagonists. I love how Moore and Lloyd create "bad guys" that aren't flat characters--you can see into their twisted minds and even sympathize with those who are mistreated themselves. V for Vendetta really raises the question--who really is the "bad guy"?

Take the character of Finch, for example. He is working for the totalitarian government of the Leader as the "Nose" *and he kills V!:-(* However, in order to accomplish this feat, Finch has to get into the mindset of V, and he does this by tracing V's history to its origin: Larkhill, the English version of Auschwitz. With the aid of some LSD, Finch undergoes catharsis and realizes that he must follow his own path separate from the rule of the Leader as the past and current atrocities of the government cannot be condoned. It is ironic that he is ultimately on the same side as V, but condemns the latter for committing murder to achieve the same ends.



The Leader is a more difficult case study to prove for ambiguity. Simply put, he is delusional, psychotic, and sexually repressed. His concept of reality is completely skewed--he deifies a computer named Fate and puts his own little mental drama above the welfare of his precious state. Nevertheless, one (or at least I) cannot hesitate to feel sorry for him as he realizes that his lover has long ago betrayed him for V. I feel sad feeling sad for an antagonist in love with a computer. I guess it's his human treatment of fate that evokes the sympathy, but still.


An antagonist easier to sympathize with is Conrad Heyer, the "Eye" of the government. Although he is the official Peeping Tom for the government and thus a major enabler of the administration(knowledge and lack of privacy= power), he is also cuckolded by his bitch of a wife, Helen. My sympathy for Conrad stems more from antipathy towards her--she is my least favorite character in the novel. She is a scheming, manipulating, power-hungry slut with no respect for herself or anyone else. To her, anyone is a usable tool if it furthers her objectives--gang leaders, beggars, you name it. Anyways, back to Conrad. He does get his vengeance/justice in the end by killing his wife's lover, but does he really have the potential to be the next V? He doesn't have any catharsis like Finch does about the heinousness of the government--he is just too wrapped up in the injustices of his personal life.


Evil or good? Where is the line drawn--the box made--the boundaries overstepped?

Anarchy vs. Justice?

In V for Vendetta, V makes an analogy with justice as his former love and anarchy as his new and improved mistress. But why choose one or the other?

V is a terrorist, but in this case I sympathize with both his means and goals. In a totalitarian state, the only route for change is terrorism--any peaceful demonstrations are just quashed. Moore's totalitarian England is eerily reminiscent of both the Nazis and Orwell's 1984.

Perhaps my sense of morality is skewed to support V, but I think the antagonists he is fighting against are far worse than him and deserve their punishment, so to speak. He is achieving justice, restoring it, through the anarchic act of terrorism.

(Moral) Quandary/ies (Or How/Why I Hate the Ending of Watchmen)

No, I did not become schizophrenic. I am just attempting to convey some of my confusion about the ending of Watchmen, which I discussed with a friend (whose blog you should look at too).

At first glance, I -hated- the ending. I thought the "good" guy was supposed to win in superhero comics, and in this case, "good"= Rorschach and the rest of the reunited superhero team. I know, perhaps it's messed up of me to think that Rorschach is good, considering his twisted sense of justice, but at least he only uses violence on those who can be said to deserve it (like the guy who butchered a six-year-old and fed it to his German sheperds) and at least he didn't commit mass murder. Though that doesn't necessarily excuse his extreme use of violence. I'm confused--I think the character of Rorschach merits his own discussion at another time. I just didn't want him to die--after all, he had been the crime-solving detective vigilante unraveling this whole mystery from the beginning.

But maybe I'm thinking too conventionally.

However, I am annoyed at the way that Laurie, Dr. Manhattan, and Dan all flocked to Veidt's side so quickly. They didn't even pause to consider the moral dilemma I see here. Instead, they seemed to instantly change their minds and agree with him (putting up the weakest of mental defenses), forgetting that he had killed 3 million innocents to achieve his goal. Honestly, only in like the previous chapter (okay, Chapter 9) did Laurie convince Dr. Manhattan of the infinite rareness and worth of human life. And now she's apparently forgotten about that and is quick to be convinced by Veidt about the rightness of his decision: "Jesus, he was right. All we did was fail to stop him saving Earth" (XII-20).

So what exactly am I trying to argue, aside from the fact that they seem to have lost their critical thinking skills quickly? Well, it's already too late to stop the disaster from happening. The only decision left for our superheroes is whether or not to punish Veidt. Now I am not necessarily saying that they follow Rorschach's path and reveal to the whole world what Veidt had done. In the short run, that would be a sure disaster because the Russians would just accuse the Americans of faking everything (which is true, though not the government's fault) and the war would be accelerated. However, not telling the world about Veidt and deciding whether to punish him are not overlapping decisions (they can be mutually exclusive). They could have punished him in some way--perhaps not killing him--to demonstrate that they disapprove of his methods.

Of course, what this comes down to is a judgment about whether the ends were worth the means. Veidt and the other superheroes seem to think so, but I don't. He still killed millions for a peace that -can- be temporary. His solution was a deus ex machina of sorts, not a real solution to stopping the Cold War. Why? Because once his plan is revealed--and it looks like it will be, if that boy working for the New Frontiersman reads Rorschach's journal, as implied on the last page--then the world will probably escalate into conflict again as the Russians become furious at being tricked by the Americans. Of course, there is still the possibility of peace if Veidt's involvement is revealed late enough--perhaps once having experienced peace, the Americans and Russians will have learned to put away their differences and continue to coexist peacefully even if an American engineered the peace.

But I think that's a slim possibility. The moral quandaries posed here are...was Veidt justified to kill millions of people in order to achieve world peace/prevent possibly more disasters as a result of nuclear war? (Kinda analogous to Truman's decision to drop the atomic bomb, but in this situation no war has started yet). Should he be punished? Will this artificial peace last? Is it artificial, as I assert? Can Veidt's act be seen as terrorism?

Understanding Comix (Chps. 7-9)

Meh, I couldn't think of a good title for this post...and I like the way Spiegelman spells "comics."

Another shameless plug.

Anyways...the end of Understanding Comics. Personally, I think that Chapter 8: A Word About Color seemed out of place....Chapter 7: The Six Steps applies to comics at a whole, so I think it should be switched with 8. Ordering aside, these chapters were much more useful and interesting than the ones we had to read for the previous assignment.

Chapter 7: The Six Steps

Though I'm not sure I entirely agree with McCloud on everything he says in Chapter 7. He answers the question "Can comics be art?" by creating his own definition of art. A very broad definition that basically encompasses almost everything: "Art...is any human activity which doesn't grow out of either of our species' two basic instincts: survival and reproduction." This definition is way too broad and can be interpreted to include sinister things like killing a six-year-old or other random acts of violence. McCloud illustrates his definition by using cavemen, which reveals his definition's simplistic nature: he only depicts cavemen creating, not destroying. I suppose my view of human nature is much more pessimistic than his.

I also feel like he's cheating in a way by using this definition....he's not showing comics is equal to all of the things that are considered art, but just broadening the definition of art so there is no need to compare characteristics. Thankfully, he does do so later on in the chapter with the six steps. He does a very good job of illustrating his exposition of the six steps, basically an overview of the creative process. I was surprised initially that he depicted artists starting from step 6: the surface and moving towards steps 1 and 2 (the idea and the form) instead of the other way around. I guess it's because when writing a paper I always attempt to come up with ideas first...but his example is perhaps more applicable to visual arts, and he is talking about the whole process of growing as an artist rather than one isolated project.

Notable panel: I thought it was neat how the outline of the sabertooth tiger is stalking the man late for his job--illustrating the instinct for survival in a new form (pg. 167).


Chapter 8: A Word About Color

Overall I thought McCloud did a nice job highlighting the different effects various color schemes have on comics, especially the effect of flat colors. I also like how McCloud focuses on the potential of expressive colors to influence comics in the future. Though I'm not sure I entirely understand the "four-color" process.

Notable panel: McCloud depicts the filters different aspects of comics have had to go through: line is filtered by commerce, while color is filtered by both commerce and technology (pg. 187). Stupid business...


Chapter 9: Putting it All Together
A fitting summary that doesn't seem as repetitive as chapters 5 and 6. I like McCloud's emphasis on comics' potential in this chapter and throughout the whole book. Insightful exposition in the beginning about the isolated condition of humanity and the need for art to fill the void of non-communication. Another thing he seems to focus on is the underappreciation of comics.

Notable panels: The contrast between appreciated comics artists and condemned/overlooked ones on pg. 201. The top panels contain a quote by Topffer, a man who paradoxically believes that comics have had more influence on humanity than written literature and also believes that they mainly appeal only to "children and the lower classes." So I guess the implication is that comics is base and it has only had more influence on humanity because most of humanity is base too? The bottom panel contrasts sainted, angelic comics artists with the creations of underappreciated comics artists who are suffering in hell under the whip of demonic creatures representing commerce. Can McCloud be implying that the latter sold out to mass audiences?

Alternative History, Part II (With Some Digressions)

Watchmen, Chapters I-IV, and Understanding Comics, Chapters 5-6
Meh, I don't think Chapters 5 and 6 of Understanding Comics were that great, so I'll talk more about Watchmen's themes and speculate on the characters. As to why Understanding Comics wasn't as good as it usually is, well, I think Chapter 5: Living in Line was mostly a rehash of things we've already learned in previous chapters, like Chapter 3: Blood in the Gutter. Or perhaps rehash isn't the right word, but I just felt extremely jaded reading it, like the conclusions were obvious and McCloud had already applied this method of analysis to previous concepts. Chapter 6 also contained material that McCloud had already mentioned, such as the increasing distance between pictures and words--pictures towards resemblance, words towards meaning. Even the classifications of word and picture combinations seemed trite.



On a completely random side note, one of my close friends, who's also an English major, was remarking on how surprised he was that so many people, including his professor, read Keats' poetry as very sexually involved. I actually made note of that while reading the excerpt from "Ode on a Grecian Urn" in Understanding Comics: the first line, "Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness" had surprising connotations to me (What if the addressee was ravished? Can a urn even be ravished? Why this strange metaphor to a bride?...) I don't remember discussing anything about Keats' sexuality in my British Literature class sophomore year, and neither does my friend, who was in the same class.

Anyways...back to Watchmen. Working off of some of the observations I made in my last post, I've decided that I have overlooked a major overarching theme. That is, I believe that Watchmen is a critique of the Establishment--a critique of overextended, uber-powerful government. There are several indicators of this. I believe in class Patrick mentioned that Nixon was still President because of the success in Vietnam in this alternative universe--if that's the case, then Watergate never occurred and he has managed to establish a stranglehold on the Presidency. Nixon was elected in '68, and in Watchmen it's now 85? He's been in power for more time than FDR was, though FDR would have been equal to him in the number of terms if he hadn't died (he was elected to a fourth term, after all). Anyways, I am not even sure there is conclusive proof that Nixon is President, the only indication of that that you see in the first four chapters is a newspaper with a headline saying that Congress is contemplating a Constitutional Amendment extending Presidential term limits to three terms. But assuming that this is correct, then a President who was supposed to have failed is now firmly entrenched in power.

And why is he firmly entrenched? Well, the US seems to be stuck in a never-ending Cold War because Dr. Manhattan makes the Soviets more desperate due to their humiliations. The key here is Dr. Manhattan. Who wants to challenge the Establishment when the government has a weapon like Dr. Manhattan? I believe that this is also a cause of the police riots, in which the very good question of "Who Watches the Watchmen?" is sprayed on a wall. In this case, no one. No one oversees the government's use of endorsed superheroes like Dr. Manhattan and the Comedian before he was murdered. Sure, the Keene Act was passed, which outlawed other vigilantes which had been seen as suppressors of the common people, but that's just the government consolidating control over the remaining superheroes. Now there isn't anyone left to challenge the government's authority since other vigilantes have been outlawed and the public is seemingly content with the Keene Act, except, I suppose for Rorschach.

Now I'll digress to contemplate the naming of the characters. Rorschach, whose mask reflects this, is named after a psychological inkblot test used to assess personality characteristics of patients. Of course, there are problems with assessment when each person's interpretation of the inkblots is wholly subjective. I wonder why Rorschach is named Rorschach...He is the only one of the vigilantes who refuses to follow the Keene Act. His subjective interpretation of the need for him to keep on fighting crime could be related to the inkblot test. Or perhaps it's just indicative of underlying psychological problems? Eh...I don't think I know enough about him at this point to make any conclusive guesses.

Ozymandias is another character whose name I noted. His name is a reference to a poem by Percy Shelley, a Romantic poet. Having analyzed this poem in British Literature, I remember that it was supposed to be a warning that even the reigns of great kings will eventually end (a warning against the hubris of the king's etched words on the pedestal, proclaiming his greatness while all that is left of his empire is ruins). Ozymandias is one of the vigilantes who has cashed out on his reputation and is reputed to be the "World's Smartest Man." I guess his reputation or intelligence won't save him from whatever calamity is coming. Or has he already fallen, a mere footnote in history because of the arrival of the monopolizing Dr. Manhattan?

Alternative History

Having never read Watchmen or any of Moore's other graphic novels, I must say that I am very impressed. The story is especially gripping and the themes are momentous. However, I don't think that the visuals are as engaging as in Blankets...what I mean is that I tend to get caught up in the text instead of focusing on the visuals. Though I do admire his use of framing...but I'll elaborate more on the visual aspect in another post.

Right now I want to discuss theme. It's fascinating to see an alternative world where the Russians are much more aggressive and the Cold War is still ongoing. However, the biggest conundrum posed is the existence of Dr. Manhattan--what would happen to our world if a God-like figure walked among mortals? There are positives, such as the accelerated advance of technology, but should Dr. Manhattan really be relied upon to the extent that he is in Watchmen to preserve world peace? I believe that the essay Professor Glass presented is very convincing...and his premises create a new, more dangerous scenario for mankind. In the real Cold War, MAD (or mutually assured destruction) was a deterrent to nuclear conflict between the Soviets and the US. Nevertheless, the depiction of the Soviets in Watchmen as increasingly desperate with one humiliation (such as Vietnam, which the US won in this alternative universe)after another due to the US's strategic advantage of Dr. Manhattan is, I believe, an unfair one. It assumes that they lack rationality and are just bloodthirsty for revenge at great cost to themselves. Even when things got very close to a nuclear conflict in the Cuban Missile Crisis, the consideration of MAD was strong enough to deter it.

Another disturbing aspect is the vigilantes' political stances. They seem, as a whole, very conservative and pro-government. Especially telling was the list of "crimes" the new group of Crimebusters was supposed to fight, which included campus unrest. Now that does not seem to be that big of a priority to me, and perhaps it illustrated the increasing obsolescence of the vigilantes, especially with the arrival of Dr. Manhattan. Another scene indicating the vigilantes' disrespect for civil liberties is the memory Dan (the new Nite Owl) has of him and The Comedian during the police strike riots. After The Comedian throws some crowd-dispersing gas, the Nite Owl asks reflectively, "Who are we protecting them from?" The Comedian's answer of themselves is decidedly conservative and I believe inaccurate--the answer implied is the vigilantes themselves.

The use of the word vigilante is interesting, since to me it also holds negative connotations of citizens who took things into their own hands during WWI and forcibly discriminated against German Americans, Italian Americans, and even Reds. Vigilantism was even more prevalent during the Red Scare, and it was subtly endorsed by the Wilson Administration. The lessons learned from that abuse of civil liberties were carried over to FDR's Administration, which forbade vigilantism. I wonder why Moore seems to use that term more often-"costumed vigilante" rather than Superhero, which to me has a much more positive connotation.

Non Sequitur

Blankets Chapters 8-9, and as a Whole

Non sequitur is Latin for "it does not follow," and is usually interpreted in a way that would make its meaning closer to "it does not fit." I feel that this phrase adequately describes some portions of the book, as well as its ending.

After finishing Blankets, I feel that there was a lack of closure in its ending. There are so many things left hanging, such as his relationship with Raina, his religious issues with his parents, his career, etc. The last Christmas scene at his house is very unfulfilling and I feel that it does not reveal enough of the story; it seems like a superfluous scene to me. However, overall I think that I liked the book due to the story, the great visuals, and surprisingly, the empathability (yay for making up words) of the characters.



Craig, for me, was a frustrating character. I seemed to like him less and less as he grew older, though I still sympathized with him and wanted him to be successful in his endeavors. As a child, in his interactions with his brother, he's certainly not nice to his sibling all of the time but he is likable simply because he seems to have a childish innocence and joy in life. Of course, he starts to develop personality traits that are visible in his teen years, including a painful sense of self-consciousness and neuroticism (see panel on pg. 450 contrasting his reaction and his brother's to the "surprise"). In his teen years, I get the sense that he is simply lost--and desperately trying to cling to anything that will anchor him to reality. You could say that he is emo, as his haircut perhaps indicates. As a result, there is an increasing sense of self-absorption in his narrative that becomes particularly frustrating when it comes to his treatment of Raina. His hanging up on her and his subsequent isolation from her indicates his weakness and inability to take responsibility and handle a long term relationship; no, not even--his inability to be there for one that he supposedly loves.



The adult Craig is no better. He seems to have developed an attitude of nonchalance in the city. Although he displays increasing attitudes of secularism, he does not have the strength to tie up loose ends at home. The city is merely another place for him to escape too without facing up to his past and the memories that keep bubbling up.

In particular, the final scene of Craig walking in the snow and contemplating (with a motif of jumping across snow) the satisfaction of him leaving an impact in the world is unsatisfactory for me. Where does his sense of satisfaction come from? From leaving everything behind? I think he puts too much emphasis on the mere fact that he left footprints in the snow, without judging the quality of those footprints, to continue his analogy.



Another scene that felt discordant was on pgs. 504-505, which showed another example of supposed-to-be-poetic descriptions of the melting scenery that I think would have been better without the redundant text. However, the following panels include two more notable things that don't fit, including a panel with melting snow on pg. 508 in which the water is melting from the white space surrounding the panels. It looks extremely peculiar and even reminds me of dripping blood (maybe I've watched too much Sin City). Another peculiarity is the dictionary definition of thaw on pg. 510, which includes "to become less reserved." If the thawing of nature is supposed to correlate with the thawing of Craig's personality, I don't think the analogy works because I think he becomes more reserved, not less.

The most glaring non sequitur sequence to me, however, was the inclusion of the allegory of the cave. I feel that it was juxtaposed very poorly with scenes of Craig's life and the development of the ending of his relationship with Raina. The point of Socrates telling Glaucon about the cave was to make him realize the boundaries of human knowledge, to knock down our hubris a bit, to show us how much more there is still to learn (at least, that's what I remember from reading the Republic last year in AP English, but I'll have to reread the passage to make sure). Craig hangs up on Raina right after he finishes describing the ultimate achievement the imprisoned humans are supposed to have accomplished--looking directly into the sun (pg. 503). The humans are supposed to be enlightened. Craig hanging up on Raina because he is "enlightened" to her true feelings for him is a complete perversion of the analogy.

Loneliness

Blankets Chapter VI, Teen Spirit
At first I found the introduction of this chapter rather disturbing/disgusting...I asked myself, what is the point of including a pee fight? Of course, it was tied in to religion and Craig's concept of sin and shame. I admire Thompson's smooth transitions; in the next scene, Craig and Raina are distinguished from the crowd by their innocence. Craig's behavior, hugging himself, clearly shows that he is uncomfortable in this crowd of sinners who are smoking, drinking, doing drugs, etc.



Craig's isolation in the crowd demonstrates a key aspect of his characterization: loneliness and as a result, an obsessive need to be loved and accepted. His attitude towards Raina is getting a bit scary; he seems to both idolize her and to become increasingly obsessed with her (pg. 337). No matter his physical proximity to her, he is still able to feel lonely, which I find amazing. Craig always seems to find the grass greener on the other side and is unable to appreciate the present.

Perhaps he has a valid reason to feel lonely, however...because even though he's with Raina, he knows that his time with her will end, and he isn't sure that she reciprocates his feelings equally. I found the font changes interesting on pgs. 346-347, especially considering Craig's earlier discussion of typing poems as depersonalizing them. When he tells Raina that he loves her, the font becomes fancier, but her reply scared me, as it was in the same font as the typed poems. And it's the unsaid words that are more powerful to me in that panel, though she does say them later on. However, the context in which she finally returns Craig's feelings for her is rather depressing, as it seems like they have no future together. I wish Craig had a better response than "I don't know" to Raina's question of "So why bother getting started in the first place?" on pg. 371. With that type of logic, I feel like there's a slippery slope leading to the absurd concept where there's no point in living because you end up dying anyways. This is a question too many of my friends have grappled with, and it's difficult to be the one attempting to answer it, so I can see why Craig doesn't. But I still think it's one's perspective that matters, to make the most out of living in the present. One shouldn't always look to a better future in a place like heaven, which Craig does, because then the present escapes too quickly.



Blankets Chapter VII, Just Like Heaven
Loneliness again, and this time it's not just Craig's, but Raina's and her father's as well. Raina's whisper in the very first page, surrounded by all that white space, demonstrates their isolation from the world, which Craig reflects on in the next few panels. Raina's father's isolation in the cold is juxtaposed with a vision of him and his wife in Hawaii, their love rekindled (which I hope is more than just wishful thinking, their divorce is causing visible stresses) and also with Raina and Craig's lust.

On another note, I feel like this chapter is full of symbols--the apple, the zits, the boat metaphor, the monkey, the sounds...having read McCloud's chapter on closure, I think symbols are usually non-sequitors that require the most effort to complete closure. Some may be simple to deduce, such as Raina's mother reaching for the pills...but what about the positioning of the apple in between Raina's parents? (pg. 394) Craig and Raina are above and below the panels with Raina's parents, sandwiching them, and making the layout of the page odd indeed. Though the positioning of the hands of Raina's dad in a wanting gesture indicates that there is lust, but no temptation in his relationship with Raina's mom:(



Another Apple symbol.

Anomalies and Raina

It is heartening to follow the development of Raina and Craig’s burgeoning relationship. It seems very much like love at first sight (even though I don’t believe in ‘love’ at first sight, maybe ‘like’ at first sight). Their mirroring behavior when they first meet in Chapter 2, aptly named Stirring Furnace to reflect Craig’s increasing liking for Raina, foreshadows not only amicability but amiability. However, I fear that Craig’s escapist tendencies have transferred over to Raina. Religion seems to fail him when it becomes a “mass mentality” (Thompson 107) and he is no longer able to connect to faithful around him who form their own group through singing, something Craig is incapable of. He does not lose his faith, though, but looks for another safety net. Raina is the perfect combination of vulnerability and strength, as demonstrated by her foil with her sister’s character (her sister is rebellious and selfishly shuns responsibility, going so far as to de-personalize her own baby, while Raina holds a crushing amount of responsibility in the family).

I have decided to focus on several anomalies to attempt to draw out a deeper understanding of Blankets. The most glaring anomaly in Chapter 2 is the frame shift. It seems like a time shift, since one would have to read the pages backwards, but the panels are still in chronological sequence. Thus the flow of time has not been altered, but Craig’s world has literally been turned upside down—an effect of his newfound infatuation with Raina. The upside-down section is also where Craig becomes disillusioned with the church and he skips chapel to spend time with Raina alone in their own universe hidden in the Rec Room. Their isolation is further empathized by the use of a large area of white space around them with only some black illuminating their hideout.



The beginning of Chapter 3 starts out with some Transcendentalist musings by Craig, reflecting once again his desire to belong to a larger entity, to have a greater purpose in life. The anomalous panels, however, include the same motif of large swathes of white space surrounding the black outline of a character, indicating loneliness or isolation. When Raina and Craig reunite, for instance, their happiness blocks out the rest of the world as they focus on their affection for each other. Also, Raina’s announcement of her parents’ divorce in the loneliness of a phone booth serves to emphasize the gravity of her situation and the weight of her responsibility. The frame itself shifts when she tells Craig on the phone that she misses him—her world is out of whack because she admits to needing him. Focusing on more stylistic elements, the antagonistic characters in Craig’s childhood, such as his bus driver and his Sunday school teacher, seem to have the same creepy, clawed hands. The strangest panels, however, are psychosexual in nature, and involve Craig’s struggle to cope with his increasing sexuality in the face of fundamentalist religious beliefs in chastity.

There are unusual panels in Chapter 4 with a pattern of static in them, reflecting the chapter’s title and Craig’s memory. The static of the television Laura was watching becomes the static pattern on Craig’s face that he shaves off. Is this symbolic of Craig’s intrusion into the lives of Raina and his family, erasing the monotony? The same pattern occurs again at the end of the chapter, when Craig is watching the snowflakes falling. Apparently the snowflakes begin to blend together in the static pattern so they lose all sense of space and depth. But what does it mean? There is another denotation to static aside from its electrical one, and it is stillness. Perhaps the static indicates Craig’s restful escapist state and his desire to never have things change from the current situation.

A persistent symbol is the importance of a bed as a comforting and sacred shelter. In Chapter 3 Craig feels unwelcome in the guest bed as an intruder, but the importance of the bed is most evident when he jumps off of Raina’s bed after realizing that he was intruding on her personal space. In Chapter 5 Raina invites him to sleep with her, to share her bed, symbolizing her increased feeling of trust and connectedness with him. I am glad that despite the panicked lines from the Bible running through Craig’s head, he comes to terms with his decision and does not feel guilty for violating any norms of chastity because his love for Raina is pure.



On another note, however, there is an anomalous panel reflecting Craig’s fear of growing up into a teenager. Again, he seems to be a kid in heaven falling down as time passes into the hell of adolescence. The drawing style used for his imagined adolescent body reflects the body of his babysitter, perversely. The face of the adolescent body is even covered up by a demonic hand as the babysitter’s face is always covered up.

Too Pugnacious?

I got carried away with answering an ill-thought out post by a die-hard conservative on a thread titled "Liberalism is a mental disorder." To which I took offense, though in retrospect the authors of both thread and post are probably too juvenile to merit much antagonism.

Conservative guy:

"Conservatives, like I, do not claim our current President, he is socially liberal. He does nothing but to try and appease the Democrats, which blows my mind because no matter what he is going to do they will hate him. All he has done with his current policies is push both conservatives and liberals both away. Why do you think his ratings are so low? If CNN were to call and ask me today if I like President Bush, I would of course say no, but that would be because I feel like he deserted his conservative principles a long time ago, unlike the common Liberal who would say some miss-informed statement like "He lied" or "He is stupid". Also cursing? If you want someone to take your political opinions seriously do not end your statement in profanity, nothing is less classy.



I would not view Liberalism as a mental disorder, rather a marker for how wrongfully informed that person (a Liberal) is. I have observed that Liberals tend lack knowledge of history, workings of US government, and how a Democracy functions. Often they don’t understand tax systems, and the checks and balances systems. Liberals only do what feels good, but is often wrong, Conservatives do what is right but it often is not the easiest."

My reply:

"President Bush is socially liberal? I'd like to see you justify that statement. He is opposed to abortion, gay marriage, stem cell research, etc. and he denied global warming until his 2007 State of the Union Address. Granted, he leans towards the Democrats on health care and immigration policies, but those are only two issues out of many.

Please do not assume that you are some psychic who can predict what liberals will say in response to the question of why his ratings are so low. Undoubtedly there are a variety of reasons for that, but in response to your suppositions, I will contend that "He lied" is not a misinformed statement. His efforts to convince not only the people of the US, but also the international community that the primary reason for starting a preemptive war with Iraq was the presence of WMDs certainly construes misinformation to me. A lack of transparency, withholding knowledge from the public, also equals lying in my view. And Bush has kept certain unsavory matters secret, including secret -domestic- prisons, unauthorized surveillance, and the use of torture.

Additionally, though you have "observed" that liberals tend to lack the sort of knowledge you have listed, your general stereotypical statement reveals your own ignorance. Obviously there are intelligent as well as wrongfully informed individuals of both political alignments. As a political science major, I am quite familiar with the topics you have listed.

Furthermore, I would say that conservatives have even less knowledge of the way our democracy functions as they are constantly trying to turn it into a theocracy. Where is your support that conservatives do "what is right"? Some of the policies conservatives support directly oppose the principles of our Constitution. Take gay marriage. Conservatives want to ban it, but the First Amendment explicitly states that our government shall "make no law respecting an establishment of religion." Gay marriage is mainly wrong in the eyes of the religious (excluding some sects, of course) so to ban it would be violating the separation of state and church."

In short, I respect intellectual, well-reasoned arguments, but I dislike mindless mudslinging, ad hominem antagonism on both sides of the political spectrum and I wish there was less of it among our public discourse. Which brings to mind Al Gore's compelling argument in his Assault on Reason, which I shall blog about when I am done reading it.



Shameless advertising, but it's a worthy book. Deplores the lack of rational, respectful discourse in the public sphere. Identifies the sources of this intellectual depreciation, including the uncanny influence of television. Also identifies a solution, for not all hope is lost.

Beginnings

Understanding Comics, Chapter 1: Setting the Record Straight

The first question that comes to mind when considering the title of this chapter is: what record? Using a personal anecdote, McCloud cleverly sets out the stereotypes and stigmas concerning comic as the first obstacle to tackle (McCloud 2-3). Dispelling these myths requires, most importantly (in McCloud’s view, 3), creating an adequate definition to express the true potential of comics—so that comics, as a medium, can escape from the narrowly drawn box most of us have trapped it in inside of our minds. Establishing comics as an artform or medium for artists to work with is a crucial first step towards defining “comics” itself.

Here I must pause to admire McCloud’s presentation and persuasive technique. It is only apt to use comics itself as the medium to help readers understand comics. I can only imagine the exponentially decreased effectiveness of the book if its explanations were portrayed in some dryer manner. In convincing his audience that comics is a versatile medium capable of “hold[ing] any number of ideas and images,” (McCloud 6) the graphic analogy McCloud employs is far more compelling than merely the textual analogy. Depicting comics as a beaker capable of being filled with any combination of liquid content and placing the beaker of comics alongside the containers of music, theatre, the written word, etc. increases the validity, and indeed, the power, of comics as an art form on the level of any other art form.

Anyways, back to defining comics. McCloud starts with Eisner’s term, “sequential art,” and with the increasingly specific input of an audience of cartoon characters (again, very apt), ends up with the dictionary definition “juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence” (McCloud 7-9). At first I thought McCloud’s definition was a bit contrived, and the descriptor “other” was too vague. After reading the first chapter and the second, however, I began to understand the true potential of his definition.

Now back to the task of dispelling myths about comics. Since McCloud has established the value of comics as art, he turns to correcting our assumption that comics is a recent art form. He starts with a depiction of a manuscript from 1519 and an interpretation that I admittedly found quite difficult to follow (McCloud 10-11). I honestly don’t see how anyone is supposed to interpret the meaning of the story that specifically from the tapestry without the necessary background knowledge. Even when the story was presented to me, I had difficulty matching the text with the pictures. The Bayeux tapestry (McCloud 12-13) was a little easier to understand, but I found the Egyptian scene (McCloud 14-15) the easiest to interpret. So I suppose in general ease of interpretation increases with chronological closeness to present times, but the ancient Egyptians are an exception. McCloud also names other sources of ancient comics such as Trajan’s column, Greek painting, and Japanese scrolls (McCloud 15) which I admit intrigued me. I hope that McCloud will make another book concerning the origins of comics.

The examples from later periods further emphasize the limitless boundaries of the comics medium, especially those that have not traditionally been considered comics (such as Ward’s “Woodcut Novels”). I find it sad that masterpieces such as Ernst’s “A Week of Kindness” do not give due credit to comics because of the stigma associated with it. The difference between comics and cartoons laid out in pages 20-21 surprised me at first, since I had considered them the same thing as they were always grouped together in newspapers. McCloud’s definition certainly changed my perspective by including many works of art that I had not perceived as comics previously and omitting something I had believed to be comics.

At the end of the chapter, McCloud uses an astronomical analogy to portray the staggering avenues of exploration open to comics in the future. His allusion to the Great Debate in the last panel piqued my interest, so I looked it up on trusty www.wikipedia.org. Apparently the Great Debate (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_great_debate) was a debate between astronomers about the size of the universe. The allusion nicely brings together his analogy, demonstrating that the perceived depth of comics is much deeper than just the surface.

Now that I’ve done a more formal analysis of chapter one, I’ll attempt to change my style for chapter two and Blankets.

Understanding Comics, Chapter 2: The Vocabulary of Comics

McCloud’s expansion of the definition of the painting of the pipe seemed very philosophical to me, since my philosophy professor has recently defined philosophy to be an examination of things in their “generality.” He certainly seemed to be moving back, getting more general, but I disagree that icons aren’t the object that they are meant to represent. They are that and much more. McCloud is very good at explaining the nuances of the level of realism vs. abstraction in pictures and the range of fixed vs. fluid meanings found in icons. His next analysis is very psychological in nature, describing how cartoons focus our attention on an idea, increase the intensity of meaning, and are universal (McCloud 30-31).

At first I disbelieved his experiment that blobs could be made into faces, but I did see faces there…but the idea was certainly already implanted into my mind. And unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried to not see a face, especially in the panel on page 31 where McCloud blatantly states that I can’t, I still saw a face even when I turned the book around or closed an eye. And his observation that humans have covered the world with their own image self-centeredly is very accurate indeed. Basically, people love cartoons (and therefore, comics) because it is very easy to empathize with them and put ourselves into their roles.

Blankets, Chapter 1: Cubby Hole

Speaking of empathy, the main character/the author in Blankets is very easy to empathize with. I not only saw myself in his character, but my little brothers in his interactions with his little brother, Phil. The first chapter is nicely integrated as the beginning and ending form a frame for the flashback. The beginning lays out Phil’s punishment as a consequence of the narrator’s selfishness. (Using my increased understanding of comics, I noticed that the artist used an increase in size of the children’s father to emphasize his intimidating nature on page 13). The transition into the flashback is smoothly done and I can’t help feeling a lot of sympathy for the narrator, who is picked on not only by bullies (notice that he really does love his brother, as he attacks the bullies right after they offend his brother) but the teacher. I am curious to know the content of the paper for which Craig (the narrator and author) got an F for. Craig’s fantasy of the people he hates eating excrement is disturbing, funny in its own way, and completely empathize-able as we have all wished terrible calamities on our enemies before. I’m also curious to know the babysitter’s joke—there are too many things left unknown that intrigue the reader to know more! I could sympathize with Craig’s bus ride too, since my house was the last stop also. His escapism into dreaming and drawing was both saddening and a bit of foreshadowing (him drawing with Phil reminded me of my little brothers). The character of the Sunday school teacher honestly filled me with loathing for corrupting the minds of the youth with her blindly dogmatic and simplistic depiction of heaven and hell. As a result, Craig’s beliefs are pressed upon him by figures of authority, such as the pastor who urges him to go into the ministry. I feel even more saddened by Craig’s denial of his memories and his past, and especially his future potential as a comics artist. When the flashback ends, we see his remorse for having put his little brother into such a tough situation, and the introduction of Craig’s characterization is complete.

I can already tell from the first chapter that this graphic novel is going to be really good, as the story is very engaging and it is easy to empathize with the characters.