Stereotypes in Comics Part II: "March"

Alright, there was a lot of readings this week, so I tried to get through as much as possible of "March," as well as the article "Comicsgate: How an Anti-Diversity Harassment Campaign in Comics Got Ugly—and Profitable" and the small comic "What Do We Mean When We Say “Toxic Masculinity?” I'll briefly give my thoughts on each and then address my opinions on the use of stereotypes.

"March" was a graphic novel that I found incredibly intriguing, as I've found most historical graphic narratives to be easier for me to digest and process. It's a topic that I don't believe has been discussed enough in school curriculums or in general, as segregation laws and the mistreatment of African Americans will most likely be a stain in which this country can never truly remove, but certainly cover-up. In truth, it becomes harder for me to read stereotypes these days unless they are completely and utterly exaggerated to prove the point.  I felt this way in "March" as I know there were historical stereotypes against African American people, but most of those stereotypes aren't commonly brought up in context today. 

The "#Comicsgate" article was more familiar to me, and while I didn't associate the contents of the article with stereotypes at first, I can see how female comic workers can have stereotypes created about them even if the stereotypes are absolutely not true or accurate. In this instance, stereotypes were created to try and push women back out of the comics industry or to tarnish their reputation by men who feel that they are not allowed in the industry.

Reading the short webcomic about "Toxic Masculinity" was also a topic I was very familiar with, as it has been more and more commonly addressed as well, and the world today is beginning to tear away the common male stereotypes that have created unhealthy standards and behavioral responses for men in society.

In terms of stereotypes being used in the comic, animation, and gaming industry, I do feel that these industries must rely on stereotypes to communicate an idea, even though I don't agree with the practice of it. I don't believe it is entirely necessary to tell a story, no matter how much better a story might read when using a stereotype. I think the use of stereotypes should be reduced in the sense of how characters are portrayed and designed, and that diversity and realism should be created not out of old stereotypes but based on people today and to encourage the normalization of people who don't fit under labels or stereotypes. I haven't been personally affected by stereotypes in the entertainment industries as far as I am aware, but I also must say that I haven't been able to watch many films or play too many games lately.

Stereotypes in Comics Pt. I: "The Fifth Beatle"

I was most encouraged to read "The Fifth Beatle" because of watching the animated film "Yellow Submarine" for the first time a little while ago in class, and I've honestly not been able to get "Eleanor Rigby" and "Nowhere Man" out of my head for a solid week at least. I'm also embarrassed to say I have little to no awareness of The Beatles and their history as a band but was quite struck by the songs I heard and thought this book might help introduce me more to the band.

At first, the beginning was a little abrupt with the contrast of The Beatles playing a concert in their earlier days juxtaposed with the beating of a man who I would later realize is both the main character and gay. But from there it was hook, line, and sinker.  Not only was the progression of Brian Epstein character through time fascinating, but the careful attention to the steady spiral into poor physical and mental health was almost like watching a match be stuck in slow motion. His character was conveyed with such bright and charismatic energy that was constantly shadowed by doctor's visits and quite mental spirals into dejection or loneliness.

It's no wonder how he burns out so quickly with the pressure, drugs, and societal norms. Still, the story was incredibly beautiful and moving despite such a sad ending to Epstein's story, and I found that I could profoundly relate to Epstein's sense of great longing for companionship (in the sense of sharing the wonders of life and being one's true self with another human being) as well as the heavy sense of isolation between the Brian the world saw versus Brian alone.

I also could gush for days about the incredible illustrations of this novel, especially it's the use of lighting and expressions to convey delight amounts of depth in mood or tones in each panel. I also felt that the captured likeness of the characters was very well done, and I found it to be incredibly immersive to see and recognize the characters with their real-world likeness.

Overall, the most intriguing aspect of this comic was not only the deeply personal sentiments throughout the novel, and how there was such a heavy stigma against gay people that was emphasized as well. Epstein's homosexuality was addressed multiple times in the story, even during the first 5 pages. He was beaten, belittled, and questioned about qualities he had that fell into the common tropes of what a gay man should be or act like. He had a high sense of cleanliness and fashion, did art and illustrations, was thinner, and overall showed little interest in women. All of these qualities were noticed by people he encountered, and while a few showed acceptance or indifference, most people made the instant assumption that he was a gay man and enforced the stereotype on Epstein, who took drugs and medication to try to suppress his true natures.

I was intrigued to see the stereotypes of the gay man in the '60s and '70s be addressed in this comic, especially for such a pivotal character for The Beatles and their career, and how the story didn't rely on Epstein's homosexuality to tell morals or motivate the progression of the story whatsoever, but rather include it for what it must of felt like for Epstein: a quiet but ever-present truth about one's identity that could not be erased or suppressed, no matter how many pill you take.

Maus

Overall, the book was very surprising. I didn’t have much of a premise of the novel other than it being about the holocaust before reading it, which is a genre that is hard for me to digest sometimes despite the event being so critical to understand. The most surprising part of “Maus” was not only the fact that the main characters were depicted as animals rather than human beings but the very personal nature of the film as a whole. I never felt like I was excluded from the conversation of the book because I’m neither Jewish or experienced the Holocaust, but rather invited in as a quiet shadow to Art Spiegelman as he slowly but persistent gathers the story of his family's experiences in the war. It was incredibly easy to stand in Art’s shoes and relate to his curiosity and even annoyance with his father. A small note, I thought it was extremely relatable when Vladek threw out Art’s old jacket because he thought it was too run down for his son to be wearing, and it made the whole reading so much more relatable.  My mom has also done the same thing in the past, but no nearly as abruptly as Vladek had, but it still reminded me of those moments.

I was also more surprised to feel more comfortable reading this comic than previous Holocaust materials. My high school had us read books like “Night” by Elie Wiesel that only made me feel intense guilt and disgust about the events of the Holocaust because it was so detailed and I felt so terrible that humans could conceive such terrible things for one another. I don’t want to say that this book is watered down, because the events and concepts are not watered down whatsoever. I want to express that because the characters are depicted as animals and we are constantly experiencing Art’s side of writing the story, we are given terrible events and stories in manage doses that we can retain better and with less aversion, because the novel balances both terrible events with very human qualities and experiences. It allows me to want to continue reading without as much guilt or a sense of helplessness, which is what I normally feel (and should feel) when reading Holocaust memoirs.

The pacing of the story is also, I think, one of it’s greatest achievements. I never felt lost or overwhelmed by the amount of content as the first book progressed. I will admit that I wasn’t able to reach the second book, but the first was very manageable and conversational rather than a daunting un-ending amount of story. The story's natural flow between the past and present is incredibly tasteful and even when the present quickly removes us from the past storytelling, it still feels very gently and very much how our attention would shift in real life. I also want to mention that I appreciated that Art preserved how his father told the story and wrote the recounts word for word from his father's mouth. It's very easy to want to make sure that there is clarity for the audience, especially when it comes to dialogue and proper grammar, but it would have felt far different if Vladek had spoken perfect English without an accent. Instead, we can read it in our head exactly how Vladek would have spoken about it, and although I had to re-read a few sections, it made the story much more immersive and realistic.

Overall, I really enjoyed the first book and will move to read the second as soon as I am able because it was incredibly written. I also forgot to mention that this illustrated story felt, at least to me, very reminiscing of “The Arrival” in its personable qualities, but still more literal and grimmer. I will say, too, that a large reason why the story makes me want to read more is the fact that I’m reading a story within a story. Both Vladek’s history and Art's present contains stories that I desperately want to find the conclusion of. I root for the families as they progress, both past and present, and even though I feel like I could guess the endings of each, I’m still compelled by my love for the characters as well as finding the ending out for myself rather than letting it remain a mystery.

The Underground

I know we received a warning in class, but I truly still was unprepared for most of the content within the comics that I read. For the most part, I jumped between Zap, Arcade, Barefoots, and I also looked at Four Sketchbooks and Gay Comic. I also listened to most of the songs provided, but my favorite was Strange Brew while I read. I think it's safe to say, because of some of the content in comics, that it was hard to enjoy most of the comics even while being pretty immersed just because of my own personal tastes. (Gay Comics actually being an exception to this rule.) So I want to talk about what I did like about the comics.

I thought the art style and graphics linework was wildly energetic, and a lot of the illustrations were extreme caricature that had been pushed to the brink of stylization and exaggeration in order to depict a character's most important physical traits or to help stereotype characters in away. I found that especially in Zap and Four Sketchbooks. The drawings overall where what impressed me the most, and while I sometimes found some of the comic stories to be humorous or entertaining, I couldn't truly relate to any other comic other than Gay Comix.

Gay Comix was blunt and brutally honest about the gay and queer experience, and even though there were still parts of the comic that were a little... too much for me, I supremely enjoyed a lot of the storytelling and felt like these were glorified or romanticized stories that I can often see today, but rather the comic artist sat me down in their living rooms and simply told me how being queer was and how their life had unfolded. The best way I can put reading Gay Comix was that it was a conversation. One that I really enjoyed out of all the rest, and inspires me to keep reading it.

Blankets and Dropsie Avenue

Contradictory to previous readings of Herge or Peanuts strips, graphic novels like "Blankets" hit a tender and painful nerve in my childhood. The pieces of youth that are no longer full of wonder and imagination but rather full of fear, uncertainty and turmoil that comes with growing up are all in the pages. The story itself contained a lot of feelings and thoughts that I also had when I was growing up and even though a few topics were very smarting for me (the mentions of child abuse and homophobia), reading Thompson's experiences were almost a balm to some of my own personal memories in the sense that it gave me relief to know I wasn't alone in some of my experiences. It's also almost too painful to try and discuss how much this book has affected me on a personal level, so I need to digest my feelings and instead move on to the graphic novel itself.

Not only do I love the line quality and use of like and dark within the book pages, but I also loved the way panels were structured and sometimes abstracted themselves by flowing organically. Words weren't bound by sections or placement, but rather jumbled or used fonts to differentiate ways of speaking or context of situations. It felt like the whole book was structured like a very beautiful release of emotions, frustrations, and explorations of the mind. There is so much energy and sentiment in each page, whether its a torrent of angry and despairing ink that seemed to rip through the drawings or carefully illustrated scenes that are gentle and almost reverent. 

The best way I can describe the overwhelming immersion of reading this book is the simple escapism of exiting my current existence in the real world and entering a film or a novel, and then coming back the real world and realizing that I had traveled somewhere entirely different without moving an inch for two hours but feeling almost breathless from traveling in my own head. To be able to feel an author's emotions so clearly and so explosively out of a book almost encourages me to attempt something similar, in the sense of gaining a cathartic release.

Dropsie Avenue is a very different flavor of a reflection on history, as well as a much large scope of time that is incredibly illustrated throughout the novel. I really love the humor and contradictory nature of all the characters that pass through the story, especially when it came to discussing immigration of one ethnic group "ruining the neighborhood" only to flourish from the new groups and then have the new tenant complain about immigrants and having the same situation prior continue from there. The cyclical nature of storytelling is both intriguing, but also a little tedious on top of having to take in a lot of new information at different time periods, but I enjoyed it as an exploration of history and the growth of culture in the melting pot of America nonetheless.

Hergé, Barks, and Edelstien

I'm starting to discover in this class that, in reading a comic, I felt utterly like an adventurous kid again. Hergé made it all too easy with "Explorers on the Moon" and the marvelous escapade that is journeying to an unexplored moon! I was more so surprised upon reading Hergé comic to see the huge and sophisticated vernacular of the character and the dialogue. Most of the comic dialogue took up the top quarter of the page, or even half at some panels because of the density of the words, but I still found all of the material to be fairly digestible. Still, the comic seems to prioritize and utilize the panels to help emphasis the setting and certain actions. The rare action panels or question panels were also pretty helpful to helo fill the silences of characters, as you would see TinTin and the Captain look over in a direction curiously and their dialogue bubble would only read a question mark. Or during a scuffle, the bubbles would be filled with colorful stars and exclamation points. These little symbols easily convey interests or quarrels without a need to describe it at all.

I also have the pleasure of reading Carl Barks's Donald Duck comic, "The Hard Loser." It actually seems pretty in line with how I've seen Donald Duck portrayed in television and film, and has a very heavy reliance on the comedic value at all times as most of the story relied on Donald's competitive nature with his nephews, who are also portrayed as good-willed and idyllic child relatives. It was a very quick comic as well, and I could very well see the strip evolve into a short animation today, but probably with a few tweaks.

The last comic I dived into was the January to February of 1951 edition of "Weird Science." I was only able to read the first section of the comic, "Made of the Future," where Alvin Blank accidentally travels to the year 2150 and brings how a kit that allows you to assemble your own wife. While the stories are truly an indicator of the context within the times, I still found the whole story incredibly entertaining. The trope within the comic also seems to have been something that became vastly explored as humanity looked to the future, and I found the comic to be within the same stylistic vein of "Invasion of the Body-Snatchers" from 1956.

The Comic Strip Pt. 2: Alley Oop

I chose to read "Alley Oop: The First Time Travel Adventure" on the trip to the library on Thursday.

The relationship between words and images is mainly dialogue, but every now and then there are descriptor bubbles to summarize any previous adventures that would provide context for the current strip. Sometimes V.T. Hamlin leaves notes for his readers about the course of the story, but the primary context you get for the story is through speech and actions. The comic does follow the dialogue taking up the upper third of the panels as well.

In was also a daily strip that had a comic for every day of the week except for Sunday, as well as a continuity strip. Alley-Oop, Dinny the Dinosaur, and Ooola other character make the same appearance in a specific story arc and progress the story forward each day. This story in specific is about the progression of Alley Op being taken to the future.

I’d say some very definitive qualities of the comic is the intricate art style of the lifework and the use of complex but subtle backgrounds, which can be foliage or caves with a good use of detail, but also they are not so prominent or complex that they completely distract the viewers from the main characters and the story. The character designs themselves are also very specific, and even though female characters like Ooola can greatly defer from King Guz’s daughter in aesthetic, I still think many of the character designs overall are very well executed to create audience interest.

I would also say that another quality to this specific comic is the fantastical world with implied real-world references and context that make it so unique. We, as an audience, can explore the land of "Moo" and enjoy a marvelous adventure that something we have never experienced before, but can also understand the context of certain events or actions that happen to Alley Oop because they are still situations that are relatable outside of cavemen and dinosaurs.