Jim Lemoine
Jun 22, 2004, 02:36 am
<img src="http://www.comixfan.com/xfan/images/logos/dittol_logo.gif" align=left border=0 alt="Did I Think That Out Loud?!? logo">By Jim Lemoine, jimlemoine@comixfan.cjb.net
What's A Comic, Anyway?
What is a comic? What does the average person think of, when they think of a "comic book"? Why isn't that a good thing?
A warning to Marvel Mavens, Spider-supporters, and X-fanatics; this column will probably be a lot less Marvel-centric than those that have gone before.
A "comic book" is defined by the dictionary as a "magazine of comic strips." A "comic strip" is defined as a "sequence of drawings relating a comic incident." A "comic" incident is one that is "provoking laughter" or "humorous."
Aside from the humorous works of creators like Gail Simone and Jeff Smith, does that sound like most comics you know? Didn't think so. Even the dictionary is against us, underestimating the true meaning and potential that comics offer.
As we the readers know, a comic book is merely an alternative means of telling a story. Stories can be told verbally, or through theater, or through the written page in such styles as prose or poetry. In a written format, a story can be recorded as words alone (such as a novel), words with pictures (such as an illustrated story), or a third format that combines prose and art into one seamless page. The comic book is an illustrated story, wherein pictures take the place of virtually all text with the exception of dialog. Where most novels contain many paragraphs throughout to establish setting... to paint a picture in the reader's head of the scenery surrounding the events... a comic book instead skips those paragraphs, opting to leave less to the reader's imagination and present the setting as a graphic image. Similarly, comics skip the paragraphs that explain things like time, appearance, motion, posture, and facial expression. All of this is conveyed through the art of the comic, leaving little more than the dialog to be conveyed through words.
The strengths of this model include its ease of readability and the opportunity to showcase an artist's talents. It also affords readers with a generally quicker read; after all, it's much faster to absorb information on setting and character through a picture than it is through two pages of detailed explanations. The reader will also receive the exact impression that the author wanted to create, while a simple prose novel might leave the details of a character's appearance or a setting's specifics to the imagination.
On the other hand, some might argue that those who prefer comics are lazy, for the very same reasons. A comic takes less energy to read, less patience, and a whole lot less imagination... usually. There are those who've sampled both, and decisively prefer the basic prose model, for the simple reason that it lets them imagine the story more fully in their brain… a mental picture more vivid than it could possibly be illustrated in static images on the printed page.
Still, positives and negatives aside, comic books are, at their core, simply a different way of storytelling, one that emphasizes art and story equally. And from a modern storytelling standpoint, that's a fantastic thing for maintaining the reader's interest and allowing full communication of a creator's vision. There's an old truism in novel-writing: "You can never have too much dialog." Some readers get easily bored with reading lots of description, and many readers actually skip over the explanatory exposition in books, looking for those golden quote-marks that mean that someone's finally talking. There are few devices in fiction writing that are more attention grabbing than engaging dialog... and that means that comic books hold a natural advantage over many other forms of storytelling; in comics, the reader can see the setting for themselves and skip right to that precious dialog.
So in many ways, graphic storytelling, as done in comic books, is a superior (or at least, comparable) method of communicating an author's vision. And yet, comic books haven't really caught on as a mainstream vehicle for storytelling. Why is that? Is it because comics are arguably not as mentally stimulating as prose, as some have claimed? I tend to doubt it; after all, there's little in the world more mainstream than movies and television, which are easily the least brain-intensive methods of receiving information that have ever been invented. If stories on the screen require absolutely no creative energy on the part of the viewer, why is that method of communication considered more mature than comic books?
I've heard it argued, especially during several mainstream comic revamps about three years ago, that one of the reasons that comic books were seen so negatively by the rest of the world was because of the total continuity, the long history, in most of the non-kiddie mainstream series. However, that argument doesn't really work either; look at American dramas like 24 or X-Files. The history of the series is all-important, what's gone before influences what comes afterwards, and the series as a whole would be much weaker without drawing on its continuity. Or look at popular, critically-acclaimed British comedies like The Office or Coupling (which is much better than its pathetic American counterpart): these shows let each episode build on the next, letting subplots grow throughout multiple episodes, and trifling matters from the first seasons are even referenced often during the second seasons. No, history, done properly, can only make a story stronger, not weaker, and gives the reader (or viewer) the impression of being caught up in something truly epic.
Which leaves subject matter as the prime suspect in the mainstream's disdain of comics. And what's the vast majority of the subject matter in American comics been for the past fifty years or so? Kiddie-cartoon books, teens at Riverdale High, and superheroes. All three make sense for the comic format, even more so than other types of stories: comics are easy to read, which makes them perfect for children and young adults. And the unbelievable two-fisted action of superheroism just begs to be illustrated in detailed, sequenced drawings: how effective would the first Superman story have been, if it was just Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster writing pulp novels about a man flying through the air?
But why have comics been limited to such a small cross-section of the world's literary output? Or, more specifically, the Western world's literary output, since comics, through anime, are a respected part of the mainstream in the East? Why aren't there more romance comics, or horror comics, or historical fiction comics, or non-super-powered adventure comics? And hey, why does it have to be fiction? Why can't history books or books on current events be written as comics? Heck, why aren't How-To books written as comics, since one would think that would make it easiest for the reader to follow along with the instructions?
There are two mainstream authors who I've always felt were amazingly well-suited to become comic writers: Ann Coulter and Al Franken. For those unfamiliar with those names, both are American political commentators, one making his home far on the Left, and the other staking out a spot way over on the Right. Both write in flowery exaggerations, embarrassing insults, and shamelessly colorful rhetoric, most of which doesn't mind being a bit untrue. Fans of these authors don't necessarily read them to learn anything, so much as they read them to be entertained by a viewpoint that they already agree with. The writers are flip-sides of the same coin, writing in a flamboyant, biting, often ludicrous style - wouldn't they appreciate the opportunity to see the objects of their vitriol illustrated in full sequential art? Wouldn't Ann Coulter jump at the chance to script a comic scene with Ted Kennedy fishing in a pork barrel? Wouldn't Al Franken enjoy creating a comic issue of Dick Cheney swindling a baby out of its candy? Wouldn't these two... colorful... writers prefer telling their stories with pictures and words to better communicate the sheer evil they accuse their opponents of?
There hasn't really been a wide selection of non-kiddie, non-superhero books in comics for about fifty years, the heyday of EC Comics (yes, kids, this is before Stan Lee's Marvel Silver Age). EC had horror comics, war comics, horror comics, adventure comics, horror comics, romance comics, horror comics, pirate comics... and did I mention the horror comics? EC was a very successful company (before the Comics Code forced them out of business). With the decline of EC, it wasn't long before Lee's Marvel became the market leader, and the sheer success his superheroes met with virtually guaranteed the supremacy of the superhero in comics for a long time to come (although it's worth mentioning that throughout the sixties, Millie the Model was consistently one of Marvel's top sellers, usually beating out most of the classic superhero titles like X-Men and Avengers!).
So the superhero has ruled for nearly a half-century, which isn't to say that other types of stories haven't been tried. On Marvel's side of the aisle, the seventies and eighties were big periods of experimentation, with a strong line of horror books and westerns in the seventies (although those horror books were only mildly amusing, as compared to the really scary old EC classics) and several aborted attempts at differentiation in the eighties (most helmed by Editor-In-Chief Jim Shooter, including books about fantasy crystal swordsmen, science fiction swashbucklers, truckers, and Pope John Paul II). Since then, DC has easily taken the lead at stretching the boundaries of comics with their groundbreaking Vertigo line and books like Sandman, Preacher, and Y: The Last Man. DC's Vertigo is arguably the best chance the comic format has to grow; Marvel, meanwhile, has languished. Even their mature MAX line has proven to be hopelessly superhero-centric.
I'm a big fan of Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, a non-fiction comic book that makes a lot of the points I'm trying to make here, but much better than I ever could. Comics are seen as kid-stuff, and they've been stagnating in superheroes for nearly fifty years - isn't it time to see how much more the comic format is capable of?
What is a comic? Is it a set of humorous comic strips? Nope. Is it a superhero story? Nope. Is it a wholly valid method of storytelling, one that's demonized by the mainstream and has failed to reach anything close to its full potential? Is it the perfect vehicle for telling visual stories, creating a perfect communication between creator and reader, and making facts, even non-fiction, come alive?
You bet your sweet Aunt Petunia it is.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
Jim Lemoine wrote a business management book a while back, and he's got this great plan on how to adapt it to comic form....
<center><hr width=75%></center>
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of ComiX-Fan or its other staff in general.
What's A Comic, Anyway?
What is a comic? What does the average person think of, when they think of a "comic book"? Why isn't that a good thing?
A warning to Marvel Mavens, Spider-supporters, and X-fanatics; this column will probably be a lot less Marvel-centric than those that have gone before.
A "comic book" is defined by the dictionary as a "magazine of comic strips." A "comic strip" is defined as a "sequence of drawings relating a comic incident." A "comic" incident is one that is "provoking laughter" or "humorous."
Aside from the humorous works of creators like Gail Simone and Jeff Smith, does that sound like most comics you know? Didn't think so. Even the dictionary is against us, underestimating the true meaning and potential that comics offer.
As we the readers know, a comic book is merely an alternative means of telling a story. Stories can be told verbally, or through theater, or through the written page in such styles as prose or poetry. In a written format, a story can be recorded as words alone (such as a novel), words with pictures (such as an illustrated story), or a third format that combines prose and art into one seamless page. The comic book is an illustrated story, wherein pictures take the place of virtually all text with the exception of dialog. Where most novels contain many paragraphs throughout to establish setting... to paint a picture in the reader's head of the scenery surrounding the events... a comic book instead skips those paragraphs, opting to leave less to the reader's imagination and present the setting as a graphic image. Similarly, comics skip the paragraphs that explain things like time, appearance, motion, posture, and facial expression. All of this is conveyed through the art of the comic, leaving little more than the dialog to be conveyed through words.
The strengths of this model include its ease of readability and the opportunity to showcase an artist's talents. It also affords readers with a generally quicker read; after all, it's much faster to absorb information on setting and character through a picture than it is through two pages of detailed explanations. The reader will also receive the exact impression that the author wanted to create, while a simple prose novel might leave the details of a character's appearance or a setting's specifics to the imagination.
On the other hand, some might argue that those who prefer comics are lazy, for the very same reasons. A comic takes less energy to read, less patience, and a whole lot less imagination... usually. There are those who've sampled both, and decisively prefer the basic prose model, for the simple reason that it lets them imagine the story more fully in their brain… a mental picture more vivid than it could possibly be illustrated in static images on the printed page.
Still, positives and negatives aside, comic books are, at their core, simply a different way of storytelling, one that emphasizes art and story equally. And from a modern storytelling standpoint, that's a fantastic thing for maintaining the reader's interest and allowing full communication of a creator's vision. There's an old truism in novel-writing: "You can never have too much dialog." Some readers get easily bored with reading lots of description, and many readers actually skip over the explanatory exposition in books, looking for those golden quote-marks that mean that someone's finally talking. There are few devices in fiction writing that are more attention grabbing than engaging dialog... and that means that comic books hold a natural advantage over many other forms of storytelling; in comics, the reader can see the setting for themselves and skip right to that precious dialog.
So in many ways, graphic storytelling, as done in comic books, is a superior (or at least, comparable) method of communicating an author's vision. And yet, comic books haven't really caught on as a mainstream vehicle for storytelling. Why is that? Is it because comics are arguably not as mentally stimulating as prose, as some have claimed? I tend to doubt it; after all, there's little in the world more mainstream than movies and television, which are easily the least brain-intensive methods of receiving information that have ever been invented. If stories on the screen require absolutely no creative energy on the part of the viewer, why is that method of communication considered more mature than comic books?
I've heard it argued, especially during several mainstream comic revamps about three years ago, that one of the reasons that comic books were seen so negatively by the rest of the world was because of the total continuity, the long history, in most of the non-kiddie mainstream series. However, that argument doesn't really work either; look at American dramas like 24 or X-Files. The history of the series is all-important, what's gone before influences what comes afterwards, and the series as a whole would be much weaker without drawing on its continuity. Or look at popular, critically-acclaimed British comedies like The Office or Coupling (which is much better than its pathetic American counterpart): these shows let each episode build on the next, letting subplots grow throughout multiple episodes, and trifling matters from the first seasons are even referenced often during the second seasons. No, history, done properly, can only make a story stronger, not weaker, and gives the reader (or viewer) the impression of being caught up in something truly epic.
Which leaves subject matter as the prime suspect in the mainstream's disdain of comics. And what's the vast majority of the subject matter in American comics been for the past fifty years or so? Kiddie-cartoon books, teens at Riverdale High, and superheroes. All three make sense for the comic format, even more so than other types of stories: comics are easy to read, which makes them perfect for children and young adults. And the unbelievable two-fisted action of superheroism just begs to be illustrated in detailed, sequenced drawings: how effective would the first Superman story have been, if it was just Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster writing pulp novels about a man flying through the air?
But why have comics been limited to such a small cross-section of the world's literary output? Or, more specifically, the Western world's literary output, since comics, through anime, are a respected part of the mainstream in the East? Why aren't there more romance comics, or horror comics, or historical fiction comics, or non-super-powered adventure comics? And hey, why does it have to be fiction? Why can't history books or books on current events be written as comics? Heck, why aren't How-To books written as comics, since one would think that would make it easiest for the reader to follow along with the instructions?
There are two mainstream authors who I've always felt were amazingly well-suited to become comic writers: Ann Coulter and Al Franken. For those unfamiliar with those names, both are American political commentators, one making his home far on the Left, and the other staking out a spot way over on the Right. Both write in flowery exaggerations, embarrassing insults, and shamelessly colorful rhetoric, most of which doesn't mind being a bit untrue. Fans of these authors don't necessarily read them to learn anything, so much as they read them to be entertained by a viewpoint that they already agree with. The writers are flip-sides of the same coin, writing in a flamboyant, biting, often ludicrous style - wouldn't they appreciate the opportunity to see the objects of their vitriol illustrated in full sequential art? Wouldn't Ann Coulter jump at the chance to script a comic scene with Ted Kennedy fishing in a pork barrel? Wouldn't Al Franken enjoy creating a comic issue of Dick Cheney swindling a baby out of its candy? Wouldn't these two... colorful... writers prefer telling their stories with pictures and words to better communicate the sheer evil they accuse their opponents of?
There hasn't really been a wide selection of non-kiddie, non-superhero books in comics for about fifty years, the heyday of EC Comics (yes, kids, this is before Stan Lee's Marvel Silver Age). EC had horror comics, war comics, horror comics, adventure comics, horror comics, romance comics, horror comics, pirate comics... and did I mention the horror comics? EC was a very successful company (before the Comics Code forced them out of business). With the decline of EC, it wasn't long before Lee's Marvel became the market leader, and the sheer success his superheroes met with virtually guaranteed the supremacy of the superhero in comics for a long time to come (although it's worth mentioning that throughout the sixties, Millie the Model was consistently one of Marvel's top sellers, usually beating out most of the classic superhero titles like X-Men and Avengers!).
So the superhero has ruled for nearly a half-century, which isn't to say that other types of stories haven't been tried. On Marvel's side of the aisle, the seventies and eighties were big periods of experimentation, with a strong line of horror books and westerns in the seventies (although those horror books were only mildly amusing, as compared to the really scary old EC classics) and several aborted attempts at differentiation in the eighties (most helmed by Editor-In-Chief Jim Shooter, including books about fantasy crystal swordsmen, science fiction swashbucklers, truckers, and Pope John Paul II). Since then, DC has easily taken the lead at stretching the boundaries of comics with their groundbreaking Vertigo line and books like Sandman, Preacher, and Y: The Last Man. DC's Vertigo is arguably the best chance the comic format has to grow; Marvel, meanwhile, has languished. Even their mature MAX line has proven to be hopelessly superhero-centric.
I'm a big fan of Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, a non-fiction comic book that makes a lot of the points I'm trying to make here, but much better than I ever could. Comics are seen as kid-stuff, and they've been stagnating in superheroes for nearly fifty years - isn't it time to see how much more the comic format is capable of?
What is a comic? Is it a set of humorous comic strips? Nope. Is it a superhero story? Nope. Is it a wholly valid method of storytelling, one that's demonized by the mainstream and has failed to reach anything close to its full potential? Is it the perfect vehicle for telling visual stories, creating a perfect communication between creator and reader, and making facts, even non-fiction, come alive?
You bet your sweet Aunt Petunia it is.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
Jim Lemoine wrote a business management book a while back, and he's got this great plan on how to adapt it to comic form....
<center><hr width=75%></center>
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of ComiX-Fan or its other staff in general.