raul grau
May 21, 2005, 04:50 pm
<img src="http://www.comixfan.com/xfan/images/columns/oneshots1.jpg" hspace=10 align=left border=0 alt="One-Shots logo">By Greg Thelen
Comic Book Stereotypes
The main problem with the comic book industry is that we're struggling to make ends meet. This is nothing new to anyone who has been following comics for at least the past decade, and there have been no shortage of ideas to save comics either. Usually those ideas center on better marketing of the product, through Free Comic Book Day (which is a fantastic idea), original graphic novels, movies, etc... These aren't bad ideas in and of themselves, but I think the problem runs deeper than better marketing can solve. My idea, for all I know, could not be new, but I haven't come across it before on the ether of the internet, so bear with me if this sounds familiar. The major problem with the comic book industry is simply one of image.
This image problem (for the record, I am not talking about Image Comics) is how American culture views the comic book industry. Mention comic books to the average American, and they'll picture Superman or Batman or Spider-Man or the X-Men or some other well-known superhero. Mention comic book fans to the average American, and they'll picture four-eyed emotionally adolescent nerds who live in their parents' basements playing Dungeons & Dragons all Friday night, because they can never get a date. Mention comic book stores to the average American, and they'll picture closet strip mall shops covered with superhero posters and filled with said nerds playing Dungeons & Dragons while talking about the latest issue of X-Men. And this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone.
But comic books weren't always about superheroes. Before 1953 superheroes were just one genre among many-a dying genre even-and, wonder of wonders, many girls used to read comics as well. Then a dreadful little book called The Seduction of Innocent by Fredric Wertham came along accusing comics of causing juvenile delinquency, which prompted a Senate Subcommittee investigation in 1954. This in turn prompted the creation of the self-censoring organization, The Comics Code Authority, which eventually destroyed many profitable comic book companies. In the end only superhero comics were able to squeeze through the CCA and still remain profitable, and, not surprisingly, the readership, which once numbered in the millions, dwindled down to whatever it is today. Newsstands no longer sold comics like they used to, and superhero fans could only get their fix through subscriptions or, more commonly, comic book stores. And for comic book stores to turn a profit, their racks carried mostly, if not entirely, superhero comics.
Of course, this is not a surprise to those of us in the know, but this is the cause of the image problem. Before Wertham's book the only image of the comic book reader was, at worst, a kid or a juvenile delinquent. That was it. They weren't nerds, they weren't living in their parents' basements, they weren't playing games all Friday night, and they weren't always male. But now, obviously, things are quite different, and we do nothing but perpetuate that stereotype, which is not unlike the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, complete with snide remarks, priceless action figures still in their original boxes, and obscure sci-fi trivia, and that stereotype is not uncommon among comic book readers. Yes, it does not encompass everybody, but the general public can't see past the multitude who do. And, yes, not every comic book store is a dingy strip mall closet, nor are all comics about superheroes, but, again, the general public can't see that. So then the question becomes clear: how do we change that?
First, let's break down the problem into its three parts in order to come to a better understanding of what the possible solution or solutions could be.
1. Comic books are all about superheroes.
2. Comic book stores are dingy strip mall closets that cater to superhero fans.
3. Comic book readers are nerds who read superhero comics and live in their parents' basements playing games because they can't get dates.
The first part can be remedied by simply pointing out non-superhero comics, like Art Spiegelman's Maus, Will Eisner's A Contract With God, or Neil Gaiman's The Sandman. But still the stereotype of comics will inevitably continue because where can one go to find these great titles? A bookstore perhaps, but what will surround The Sandman in the Graphic Novel section of Barnes & Noble? Trades of Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, the X-Men, etc... If they go to a comic book store looking for greater variety, they'll just see more of the same, and they'll come away thinking The Sandman is more of an aberration than a reflection of comic books. So that will not solve anything.
The second part (as I've noted earlier) is a result of the CCA. When only one genre can turn a profit, and when comic book stores are already having tough times making ends meet, they are going to go with what sells, and what sells are superhero comics. Sure, most stores will carry titles like 100 Bullets or Preacher, but they will have seven times as many superhero comics-if not more. And the only way to remedy this, to even out the market, is for non-superhero comics to sell as many copies as Superman or Spider-Man. Now considering that the average comic book reader spends copious amounts of money buying superhero comics, and that they're not about to give up reading the majority of their favorite titles, then there's only two other people who can make up the difference: the comic book reader who doesn't buy every X-book on the rack with some extra cash to spare or new readers. This is where better marketing would come in handy, but even with good marketing for smaller companies, these people probably won't be able to find Blankets or DEMO in their local comic book store, which caters to the superhero crowd. Could they order the comics they wanted from their local store? Yes, in theory, but most likely not.
This is another part of the problem with comic book shops. They have an unwelcoming air about them. I recall Joe Casey once comparing comic book shops to porno stores. Only the people who really want to go to them will dare to enter their doors. The average non-reader may feel intimidated to enter Hank's Comic Shack at the back of a local strip mall where the aisles are narrow, posters cover the wall, nerds huddle in the back playing a new rpg, and the store clerk may not be all that friendly. Yes, this doesn't describe all comic book shops, and it definitely doesn't describe mine, but, unfortunately, when I visit shops elsewhere, this stereotype is right on the money. These stores are practically kicking new readers out the door before they even enter. They are practically little kids' rooms where only a special clique of cohorts is socially permitted to enter. They might as well have a secret password.
As if that weren't bad enough, it is difficult to even find a comic book store. If a new reader wanted to find a greater variety of comics than those offered in bookstores, then the chances of him or her actually finding a store is, perhaps, slim at best. What if some comic suddenly broke into the national consciousness like The Death of Superman or the 9/11 tribute books? Bookstores don't generally carry recently released comics, and most people are more comfortable shopping in a physical (rather than a digital) store. But you aren't likely to find a comic book shop out in the smaller cities of America. For instance, when I moved to Billings, MT eight years ago, there were at least three comic book stores in this city of about 80,000. Now, this city's population is nearing 100,000, yet there's only one shop left in town. In the entire state of Montana, I don't think there are more than three shops. Granted, this is Montana, and not all of the blame can be placed on the stereotype of these shops, but it's very telling of the state of comic book stores-and the comic book industry-when there's a need for a comic book shop locator.
So the problem with comic book shops is really threefold: they cater to the superhero readers, they're uninviting for potential new readers, and they're few and far between. This can be remedied by fixing the image of the comic book store. In theory, an inviting comic book shop, where the clerk greets each new customer with a hearty "Hello," the store is wide and open, and the walls show some wall, would make the shop and its product more profitable. Just look at any other small business and see how they present themselves. The ones making money are the ones that look nice and uncluttered. A person can walk into that store without feeling intimidated, find what they want, and if they can't, ask the clerk to order it without feeling intimidated. These businesses can grow and expand, maybe even open a new location across town. They will become recognizable and trusted within their community for quality service, and they may branch out into other cities and states. But here's another problem with comic book shops: there's no national chain for comics. Go across the country, and if you pass a McDonald's, you know where to get a hamburger; pass a Barnes & Noble, and you know where to buy a book; pass a Sam Goody, and you know where to find CDs. Comics don't have that, at least not on a national scale. Still, there's no guarantee that new readers would dare enter Hank's Comic Shack because of part three: the nerds.
And this is the crux of my argument, and I know that I will likely incur the wrath of many who read this when I say that the image of the comic book reader prevents comics from succeeding. Even so, please hear me out first.
The third part of the image problem is the most critical, because this is the human face of comics. Regardless of what is between the covers of Superman or behind the doors of Hank's Comic Shack, the image of the comic book reader-who reads superhero comics, argues about the continuity of the DC universe, dresses up as the Flash when it's not Halloween, plays the latest rpg in his parents' basement, and can't get a date to save his life-this is what resonates with people the most. This image is uncool. It's not hip, not sheik, never in vogue. Potential new readers will be deterred by this image because who wants to be uncool? I don't mean to suggest that we should all get a makeover, change our wardrobe, and drastically alter who we are. We need not stop loving our superheroes or action figures, but we can tone it down a little. We don't have to look or act like jocks or preppies or gangstas or punks, but maybe give that Wolverine t-shirt a rest every once in a while. Maybe don't recite verbatim obscure Star Wars quotes or trivia as a means of showing off. Maybe go out to someplace other than a comic book shop and do something else other than play Dungeons & Dragons all night. Maybe even ask that young woman you've had your eye on out for a date. Whatever part of the stereotype you embody, try to go against that. I know I might sound pretentious or elitist, but I will readily admit that I fit the stereotype as well at one point, and I still fit parts of it today. But this image, I argue, is at the root cause of the current ills of the comic book industry. This stereotype buys only superhero comics at comic book shops covered in superhero posters, and this stereotype is practically the only customer for said comic book shops, so said comic book shops caters to this stereotype, and so on. It's the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail. Eventually, it'll devour itself.
And this needs to change for comics to survive. Notice that I am not criticizing superheroes as a genre, or the pricing of comics (which if they were sold in greater numbers would decrease their prices), or Marvel, or DC, or anyone else, other than us. I don't believe that there's any one way to get rid of this stereotype, but it may just be the little things that matter. Try reading The Sandman during your lunch break at work, or pointing out that "manga" is Japanese for comics, or writing serious papers deconstructing Maus at school (like I did). I believe little things like these, if done in great numbers by those of us passionate about comics, who know that comics are art and literature at the same time, could go a long way in changing the image of comic book readers. It won't happen over night or in a month or a year, but it can happen.
So what could happen if the stereotype was changed? The comic book market could return to 1953. It might not be considered nerdy or juvenile to read comics. More people could go to comic book shops and demand non-superhero comics, and those comics could be just as profitable as superhero comics. The shops could move out of their dingy strip mall closets into better-lit and more spacious buildings, maybe even expand. Maybe a national chain would emerge. Maybe more non-superhero publishers would be able to turn better profits, publish more books, and even out the market. Maybe, just maybe, comics could be saved.
Yes, this is pure speculation on my part, and even if the stereotype were to change to a more positive one, there is no guarantee that the industry will be in any better shape than it is now. Availability of comics is critical, obviously, but even if comics are widely available, that stigma of comics will persist unless we do something to change it. Often, so many of us are willing to criticize Marvel, DC, or something else for the decline of comics, but we forget that we buy their products. They do listen to their fans, but they listen to the bottom line more. If Western comics suddenly became the most profitable genre in comics, then Marvel and DC would release 30 Western comics each month. That doesn't mean that Marvel and DC need to diversify their comics (they are niche publishers) any more than Def Jam Records needs to produce country albums, but those other publishers (Top Shelf, AiT/PlanetLar, Oni Press, etc...) need more support to even reasonably compete with the Big Two. This also doesn't mean that we need to buy more titles if we can't afford them, but that we need to bring new people into this industry. And comic book retailers must make their shops more inviting to the potential new reader, but they're businesses too, and they respond to what's making money. In other words, they respond to us, and we can change them. Free Comic Book Day is a great start, but we need to keep going. We need to make reading comics acceptable, if not attractive.
But it all starts with us.
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Greg Thelen is trying to make a career off his imagination with his writing. You can send your hate mail to gambit at catharsis dot org.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
One-Shots is an ongoing, revolving column, ready and willing for your contributions. Please read over our <a href="http://www.comixfan.com/xfan/forums/showthread.php?t=32883" target="_blank">guidelines</a> first, and then send your submissions to Raul Grau at columns@comixfan.cjb.net.
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of Comixfan or its other staff in general.
Comic Book Stereotypes
The main problem with the comic book industry is that we're struggling to make ends meet. This is nothing new to anyone who has been following comics for at least the past decade, and there have been no shortage of ideas to save comics either. Usually those ideas center on better marketing of the product, through Free Comic Book Day (which is a fantastic idea), original graphic novels, movies, etc... These aren't bad ideas in and of themselves, but I think the problem runs deeper than better marketing can solve. My idea, for all I know, could not be new, but I haven't come across it before on the ether of the internet, so bear with me if this sounds familiar. The major problem with the comic book industry is simply one of image.
This image problem (for the record, I am not talking about Image Comics) is how American culture views the comic book industry. Mention comic books to the average American, and they'll picture Superman or Batman or Spider-Man or the X-Men or some other well-known superhero. Mention comic book fans to the average American, and they'll picture four-eyed emotionally adolescent nerds who live in their parents' basements playing Dungeons & Dragons all Friday night, because they can never get a date. Mention comic book stores to the average American, and they'll picture closet strip mall shops covered with superhero posters and filled with said nerds playing Dungeons & Dragons while talking about the latest issue of X-Men. And this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone.
But comic books weren't always about superheroes. Before 1953 superheroes were just one genre among many-a dying genre even-and, wonder of wonders, many girls used to read comics as well. Then a dreadful little book called The Seduction of Innocent by Fredric Wertham came along accusing comics of causing juvenile delinquency, which prompted a Senate Subcommittee investigation in 1954. This in turn prompted the creation of the self-censoring organization, The Comics Code Authority, which eventually destroyed many profitable comic book companies. In the end only superhero comics were able to squeeze through the CCA and still remain profitable, and, not surprisingly, the readership, which once numbered in the millions, dwindled down to whatever it is today. Newsstands no longer sold comics like they used to, and superhero fans could only get their fix through subscriptions or, more commonly, comic book stores. And for comic book stores to turn a profit, their racks carried mostly, if not entirely, superhero comics.
Of course, this is not a surprise to those of us in the know, but this is the cause of the image problem. Before Wertham's book the only image of the comic book reader was, at worst, a kid or a juvenile delinquent. That was it. They weren't nerds, they weren't living in their parents' basements, they weren't playing games all Friday night, and they weren't always male. But now, obviously, things are quite different, and we do nothing but perpetuate that stereotype, which is not unlike the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, complete with snide remarks, priceless action figures still in their original boxes, and obscure sci-fi trivia, and that stereotype is not uncommon among comic book readers. Yes, it does not encompass everybody, but the general public can't see past the multitude who do. And, yes, not every comic book store is a dingy strip mall closet, nor are all comics about superheroes, but, again, the general public can't see that. So then the question becomes clear: how do we change that?
First, let's break down the problem into its three parts in order to come to a better understanding of what the possible solution or solutions could be.
1. Comic books are all about superheroes.
2. Comic book stores are dingy strip mall closets that cater to superhero fans.
3. Comic book readers are nerds who read superhero comics and live in their parents' basements playing games because they can't get dates.
The first part can be remedied by simply pointing out non-superhero comics, like Art Spiegelman's Maus, Will Eisner's A Contract With God, or Neil Gaiman's The Sandman. But still the stereotype of comics will inevitably continue because where can one go to find these great titles? A bookstore perhaps, but what will surround The Sandman in the Graphic Novel section of Barnes & Noble? Trades of Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, the X-Men, etc... If they go to a comic book store looking for greater variety, they'll just see more of the same, and they'll come away thinking The Sandman is more of an aberration than a reflection of comic books. So that will not solve anything.
The second part (as I've noted earlier) is a result of the CCA. When only one genre can turn a profit, and when comic book stores are already having tough times making ends meet, they are going to go with what sells, and what sells are superhero comics. Sure, most stores will carry titles like 100 Bullets or Preacher, but they will have seven times as many superhero comics-if not more. And the only way to remedy this, to even out the market, is for non-superhero comics to sell as many copies as Superman or Spider-Man. Now considering that the average comic book reader spends copious amounts of money buying superhero comics, and that they're not about to give up reading the majority of their favorite titles, then there's only two other people who can make up the difference: the comic book reader who doesn't buy every X-book on the rack with some extra cash to spare or new readers. This is where better marketing would come in handy, but even with good marketing for smaller companies, these people probably won't be able to find Blankets or DEMO in their local comic book store, which caters to the superhero crowd. Could they order the comics they wanted from their local store? Yes, in theory, but most likely not.
This is another part of the problem with comic book shops. They have an unwelcoming air about them. I recall Joe Casey once comparing comic book shops to porno stores. Only the people who really want to go to them will dare to enter their doors. The average non-reader may feel intimidated to enter Hank's Comic Shack at the back of a local strip mall where the aisles are narrow, posters cover the wall, nerds huddle in the back playing a new rpg, and the store clerk may not be all that friendly. Yes, this doesn't describe all comic book shops, and it definitely doesn't describe mine, but, unfortunately, when I visit shops elsewhere, this stereotype is right on the money. These stores are practically kicking new readers out the door before they even enter. They are practically little kids' rooms where only a special clique of cohorts is socially permitted to enter. They might as well have a secret password.
As if that weren't bad enough, it is difficult to even find a comic book store. If a new reader wanted to find a greater variety of comics than those offered in bookstores, then the chances of him or her actually finding a store is, perhaps, slim at best. What if some comic suddenly broke into the national consciousness like The Death of Superman or the 9/11 tribute books? Bookstores don't generally carry recently released comics, and most people are more comfortable shopping in a physical (rather than a digital) store. But you aren't likely to find a comic book shop out in the smaller cities of America. For instance, when I moved to Billings, MT eight years ago, there were at least three comic book stores in this city of about 80,000. Now, this city's population is nearing 100,000, yet there's only one shop left in town. In the entire state of Montana, I don't think there are more than three shops. Granted, this is Montana, and not all of the blame can be placed on the stereotype of these shops, but it's very telling of the state of comic book stores-and the comic book industry-when there's a need for a comic book shop locator.
So the problem with comic book shops is really threefold: they cater to the superhero readers, they're uninviting for potential new readers, and they're few and far between. This can be remedied by fixing the image of the comic book store. In theory, an inviting comic book shop, where the clerk greets each new customer with a hearty "Hello," the store is wide and open, and the walls show some wall, would make the shop and its product more profitable. Just look at any other small business and see how they present themselves. The ones making money are the ones that look nice and uncluttered. A person can walk into that store without feeling intimidated, find what they want, and if they can't, ask the clerk to order it without feeling intimidated. These businesses can grow and expand, maybe even open a new location across town. They will become recognizable and trusted within their community for quality service, and they may branch out into other cities and states. But here's another problem with comic book shops: there's no national chain for comics. Go across the country, and if you pass a McDonald's, you know where to get a hamburger; pass a Barnes & Noble, and you know where to buy a book; pass a Sam Goody, and you know where to find CDs. Comics don't have that, at least not on a national scale. Still, there's no guarantee that new readers would dare enter Hank's Comic Shack because of part three: the nerds.
And this is the crux of my argument, and I know that I will likely incur the wrath of many who read this when I say that the image of the comic book reader prevents comics from succeeding. Even so, please hear me out first.
The third part of the image problem is the most critical, because this is the human face of comics. Regardless of what is between the covers of Superman or behind the doors of Hank's Comic Shack, the image of the comic book reader-who reads superhero comics, argues about the continuity of the DC universe, dresses up as the Flash when it's not Halloween, plays the latest rpg in his parents' basement, and can't get a date to save his life-this is what resonates with people the most. This image is uncool. It's not hip, not sheik, never in vogue. Potential new readers will be deterred by this image because who wants to be uncool? I don't mean to suggest that we should all get a makeover, change our wardrobe, and drastically alter who we are. We need not stop loving our superheroes or action figures, but we can tone it down a little. We don't have to look or act like jocks or preppies or gangstas or punks, but maybe give that Wolverine t-shirt a rest every once in a while. Maybe don't recite verbatim obscure Star Wars quotes or trivia as a means of showing off. Maybe go out to someplace other than a comic book shop and do something else other than play Dungeons & Dragons all night. Maybe even ask that young woman you've had your eye on out for a date. Whatever part of the stereotype you embody, try to go against that. I know I might sound pretentious or elitist, but I will readily admit that I fit the stereotype as well at one point, and I still fit parts of it today. But this image, I argue, is at the root cause of the current ills of the comic book industry. This stereotype buys only superhero comics at comic book shops covered in superhero posters, and this stereotype is practically the only customer for said comic book shops, so said comic book shops caters to this stereotype, and so on. It's the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail. Eventually, it'll devour itself.
And this needs to change for comics to survive. Notice that I am not criticizing superheroes as a genre, or the pricing of comics (which if they were sold in greater numbers would decrease their prices), or Marvel, or DC, or anyone else, other than us. I don't believe that there's any one way to get rid of this stereotype, but it may just be the little things that matter. Try reading The Sandman during your lunch break at work, or pointing out that "manga" is Japanese for comics, or writing serious papers deconstructing Maus at school (like I did). I believe little things like these, if done in great numbers by those of us passionate about comics, who know that comics are art and literature at the same time, could go a long way in changing the image of comic book readers. It won't happen over night or in a month or a year, but it can happen.
So what could happen if the stereotype was changed? The comic book market could return to 1953. It might not be considered nerdy or juvenile to read comics. More people could go to comic book shops and demand non-superhero comics, and those comics could be just as profitable as superhero comics. The shops could move out of their dingy strip mall closets into better-lit and more spacious buildings, maybe even expand. Maybe a national chain would emerge. Maybe more non-superhero publishers would be able to turn better profits, publish more books, and even out the market. Maybe, just maybe, comics could be saved.
Yes, this is pure speculation on my part, and even if the stereotype were to change to a more positive one, there is no guarantee that the industry will be in any better shape than it is now. Availability of comics is critical, obviously, but even if comics are widely available, that stigma of comics will persist unless we do something to change it. Often, so many of us are willing to criticize Marvel, DC, or something else for the decline of comics, but we forget that we buy their products. They do listen to their fans, but they listen to the bottom line more. If Western comics suddenly became the most profitable genre in comics, then Marvel and DC would release 30 Western comics each month. That doesn't mean that Marvel and DC need to diversify their comics (they are niche publishers) any more than Def Jam Records needs to produce country albums, but those other publishers (Top Shelf, AiT/PlanetLar, Oni Press, etc...) need more support to even reasonably compete with the Big Two. This also doesn't mean that we need to buy more titles if we can't afford them, but that we need to bring new people into this industry. And comic book retailers must make their shops more inviting to the potential new reader, but they're businesses too, and they respond to what's making money. In other words, they respond to us, and we can change them. Free Comic Book Day is a great start, but we need to keep going. We need to make reading comics acceptable, if not attractive.
But it all starts with us.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
Greg Thelen is trying to make a career off his imagination with his writing. You can send your hate mail to gambit at catharsis dot org.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
One-Shots is an ongoing, revolving column, ready and willing for your contributions. Please read over our <a href="http://www.comixfan.com/xfan/forums/showthread.php?t=32883" target="_blank">guidelines</a> first, and then send your submissions to Raul Grau at columns@comixfan.cjb.net.
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of Comixfan or its other staff in general.