Definitions of "Comics" and their unimportance

Derik Badman has a new article up over at Comixtalk about the general trend of defining "comics" and "why we should stop bothering." This is similar in nature to an academic article by Aaron Meskin that I've continually not gotten around to reviewing here for the last several months.

A few concerns: In general, the task of defining "comics" is like any other quest to understand how categories and conceptualization works. And, as Derik points out with a reference to Wittgenstein, it is very difficult to exact any rigid definition with regards to anything.

This is one of the reasons my forays into this discussion usually are UN-defining "comics" — because it's an attempt to deconstruct the notion past any rigid definition. Though I may be regarded as a culprit of the "definitions" club, the result of my attempts usually end up with a very vague and non-explicit definition that says "comics" means a complex of socio-cultural things including an object, industry, genre, culture, etc. (but not a medium).

That said, definitions and categories do matter, as can be seen in very realistic terms in debates over whether gays really can get "married", or whether water-boarding is or isn't "torture." In terms of this debate, we see it in other places like whether "graphic novel" has its own meaning or if it's an upscale synonym of "comics." In all these scenarios the result of the decided-upon definition has legitimate real-world consequences.

Like it or not, McCloud did set a definition in many people's minds for what "comics" means. These people often argue passionately in their absolute certainty that the word means exactly what McCloud said it does. Engaging in this discussion is to say: 1) McCloud may be wrong, 2) why?, and 3) what does that mean for how the word (and its referent) is used/treated in society?

Personally, I think that the most important fall out of such a discussion is to recognize that "comics" and "sequential images" are two entirely separate things (contra McCloud), and that such a separation yields extraordinary consequences. Those results end up seeing many of the branches on Derik's family tree of comics not as "comics" at all — with ultimately the notion of "comics" dissolving and marginalized to something else far more fundamental.

Is this a Comic?

Patric Lewandowski joins the club of discussing the definition of "comic" with a new column over at Comixtalk. He has yet to mention my split between comics and visual language, but did use the magic VL words, so perhaps he's on his way there? Seems to be the start of a potentially interesting treatise at least, and I look forward to seeing where he's going with it.

At the very least, I'm glad Comixtalk has some other people writing about formalist-ish topics, since I'm far too busy to write things these days.

Graphic non-fiction links galore!

Wow, all of a sudden I have a ton of great links to share, all about graphic non-fiction. And sometimes you find them in the darndest of places...

Last night I was hanging out in a pub on the MIT campus and happened upon Joost Bonsen, the creator of an interesting new book called Howtoons that aims to get kids excited about engineering. It has all sorts of projects for things that people can make at home with commonly found items. There is also a Howtoons website featuring lots more online.

Also there was Joost's friend Drew, who pointed out to me that the latest edition of Nature features the graphic "Adventures in Synthetic Biology" teaching about DNA and engineering biology. It starts with some very basic concepts, and then ramps up to some very complex stuff (a pdf. is also downloadable from here). Very cool!

Finally, several months ago a student named Shane Smith had emailed me about an essay he was writing about "essay comics," and, practicing what he preached, that's exactly what he's created! "Academaesthetics: How the essay and the comic can save each other" is a (long!) graphic essay arguing just what that title says (linked site leads to pdf). Definitely worth reading, especially for its comparative analysis of mine and McCloud's definitions of "comics" and as a well executed use of the medium it's advocating.

Go now!

Visual language in society

As I've mentioned before, I think that the meshing of the notion of "comics" with sequential images (a simple glossing of what I call visual language) actually hurts the perception of the graphic form by pigeon-holing it into a specific cultural context.

If this form of communication was actually used like a language there would be no reason people would call it "comics," and I certainly wouldn't have to be arguing that it is literally a language. Its recognition as a language would be self-evident from its usage.

This is why I always correct people who claim that we have a visual culture, or that people these days have a vast visual literacy. They have a familiarity with technological or cinematic representations, certainly. But, when 2/3 of America can likely not draw a coherent narrative sequence? Visual fluency, I doubt they have.

Truly, the need to argue for a "visual language" only comes out of a society where such usage is exceptional, not the norm. You can't have a culture where people claim visual communication is vast and prevalent, while at the same time have books arguing for increased usage of it.

Can you imagine books arguing for why people should be using language more? It wouldn't happen, because language is so prevalent and pervasive in society that to do so would be boring.

That's the extant of visual language I'd like to see — where someday people will look back on my writings and think its bizarre that someone had to argue for someone to even need to make the argument that its language.

"Comics" needs less nouns and more adjectives

In the comments of a previous post, I started riffing about the different uses of the terms "graphic novel" and "comics", and what might be a better terminology. It seems like people are constantly looking for that upgrade in terms so "comics" won't be looked at disparagingly. But, as I discussed in this essay, just giving a new term won't necessarily solve the problems — what you really need is a whole new network of associations that is brought about by the new term.

We kind of have this with "graphic novel." For some, it insinuates something different than "comics" — it's long-form, non-pamphlet, non-mainstream genre of a serious topic, etc. It evokes a different subculture and literary movement.

But, for others, its just an upscale synonym for "comics", and many who see that status difference want to capitalize on it by bootstrapping "comics" into it. Companies like Marvel and DC don't give a damn about the alternative movement of "graphic novels", but they do see the term as a way in which they can give their products a respectable label. (and, I'd guess, this is the way that most outside the comics community view it)

As I've said before, I see "comics" and "graphic novels" both as simply social contexts in which a "visual language" (of sequential images) is written. This visual language is used in different avenues, the same way that we use English to write "articles" versus "novels" — such is the (potential) difference between "graphic novel" and "comics."

However, I think perhaps this whole terminology game has been played wrongly. If you want to get across this different viewpoint — which truly does give an alternative network of ideas — then what we don't need is an alternative term to talk about different works of "sequential images." Any time that a new term is created it will just be a synonym for "comics" with a little different flavor, be it graphic novels, comix, sequart, or strip lit.

Really what we need is not a noun, but an all purpose adjective. And, I think that adjective should be common parlance — not something new that is made up. Personally, I like "graphic", since this visual language is inherently graphic representation. So, while "graphic novels" might stand, instead of "comics", etc. you get:

Graphic books
Graphic stories
Graphic essays
Graphic fiction
Graphic non-fiction
Graphic humor
Graphic short story
Graphic short
etc.

Rather than trying to identify both medium and form wrapped up into one term (and thus also subculture, etc), you just get an overarching description of the manner in which that form is written (graphically, instead of just text). Not only does this fix the terminology issues, but it also puts these things on equal footing to text. It's not "comics" vs. "books": "graphic books" are just another type of book.

Edit: As noted by Eddie Campbell in the comments... this view well meshes with the use of "author" as the person creating this "graphic book." There's really no need to use some separate term like "cartooonist," especially if, as many have said, really all we're doing is "writing in pictures." The less sepratism we have in our vocabulary, the more integrated this visual language will become in society.

ACLU comi... I mean "graphic novel"!

Apparently the ACLU has an "online graphic novel" titled Defenders of Freedom up at their site. I find their use of wording interesting. The piece itself states, "We are not trying to disguise a civics lesson in a comic book" — though their tagline calls it their "first graphic novel" (apparently more will follow?).

This seems like another instance of "graphic novel" being used as an upscale synonym for "comics" — without regard for format (it's on the web!) — as opposed to using it to denote a separate categorical frame/artitic movement. The quote in the piece bears this out, since "comic book" is used fairly negatively here (and straight-up ties it to the notion of superheroes), when the work is obviously done in the "comic medium."

Here again a notion of a "visual language" would be useful. What the ACLU is trying to say (I think) is that they want to communicate this valuable information in a graphic form that is accessible (visual language), but they don't want it to have the stigma of "comics" (the social construct associated to superheroes, etc.) biasing people's opinions of it.

Trouble with categories in "Comics are not Literature"

Listening to the downloadable mp3 of the "Comics are not Literature" panel from Comic-Con is fascinating as a demonstration for how different people's categories are relating to the definitions of "comics," "literature," or even "reading" it seems. (all of the issues seem resolvable by accepting the notion of a visual language)

As I've been claiming for awhile, "comics" for these people seems to really be bound to the genre(s), so the notion of that as literature would indeed seem troubling. It also seems rather ridiculous in general for anyone to make a blanket statement about the notion that all comics are literature, as opposed to literature being something that individual comics can attain. Is this just a terminological straw man? Perhaps this is just a problem created by using "comics" as a singular noun?

Concerning the one person's notion that comics are not "read" just seems ridiculous. Calling the process that we do to decode comic sequences just "looking" is revealing as belonging to a paradigm of thinking holding images into a subjugated position. "Perceiving" or "looking" are passive processes compared to the active "reading." I'd argue, with empirical evidence, that "reading" is indeed the closer category.

I find it also very interesting that the panel has next to no one who is actually draws comics — i.e. no one with "visual language fluency." And, for a conversation that keeps going back to formal properties of the medium, perhaps they'd have done well with someone on the panel who actually knows about that stuff?

In general, it seems like most all of these issues that they struggle with are almost wholly resolved by accepting a paradigm that acknowledges that images in sequence are literally a visual language. No more struggling with whether someone is a "cartoonist" or "writer" or "artist" — they're a "visual author", or even better, just a "writer" who writes in pictures as opposed to words. I could go on and on (and, in fact, I have).

These were exactly the issues I was addressing in two of my older articles: The "Literature" issue is essentially encapsulated by the "Comics as Art"-debate, while the issues that they're struggling with in general are instances of the limitations of the network of concepts that "comics" encapsulates where these peoples' categories are running up against troubles.

Comics definitions and distribution

A friend of mine and I were talking about comic distribution and some interesting points came up, including how McCloud's definition of "comics" might actually hurt the growth of the medium.

I'll get back to that one.

My friend noted that "comics" are coming to be split into two major groupings of mainstream works and graphic novels (largely dominated by memoir), and that "comics" were once again coming to refer to the latter as a more niche label of superhero/fantasy/sci-fi/-ish genres.

Part of our discussion focused on the inadequacy of the distribution to "comic stores" for appealing to customers who might not have any interest in that niche. I've argued at length before about how if someone were to write a compelling baseball "comic" that would appeal to baseball fans (which outnumber "comic" fans by a lot I imagine, when they aren't overlapping), only selling it in a "comic" store would not reach the real audience intended to buy it — you'd need to sell it in sporting-good stores, batting cages, baseball games/stadiums, etc. (in addition to non-niche places like grocery stores).

Now, when McCloud tried to define "comics" back in 1993 as "sequential images," I think (?) his intent was to move the label beyond its stereotyped niche. Using such a formalist/structural definition would seemingly let so many other things into the fold that superheroes/etc. would become just another genre.

But instead of "comics" becoming the superordinate category to the benefit of the medium, I think this has actually had a negative impact for those that have adhered to it. Instead, it seems as though it only cast a wider net for all those things that break the stereotype to be sucked into the associations of "comics." My hypothetical "baseball comic" would only get hurt by being called a "comic" and being carried in "comic" outlets because readers of said genre already have predispositions toward things called "comics."

Indeed, the only real growth areas in the industry right now are things that have both evaded those stereotypes and use new labels altogether: "manga" or "graphic novels."

With those new labels they have appealed to audiences outside the "comics" markets. I've heard stereotype-avoiding readers say "it's not a comic, it's a graphic novel" — which is why Marvel and DC are now trying to give a post-hoc association of their products ("comics") as being "graphic novels" so they won't be left behind by the new wave of readership. (I doubt it's working)

I actually think it's fine for "comics" to refer to a niche, since it gives it a reliable label. And, there's nothing wrong with that, especially if we have a notion of the sequential graphic communication system that is separate from the notion of how that graphic system appears socially. It's also fine for that niche to be found reliably in "comic stores," while other graphic works that don't need to be called "comics" can viably be sold in other marketplaces.

We shouldn't limit potential graphic stories and books to the labels and distribution venues of a niche they don't belong to. Doing so would only ensure that they never sell to their potential and that the medium never reaches beyond niche works.

Art 'n' stuff

Apparently, I've inspired Nathan Sandler enough that he devoted his inaugural blog posts to critiquing my thoughts on Art vs. Language. I'm flattered that he's spent the time to write out his thoughts, and even more that he found my work thought-provoking enough to mull so much about them.

Unfortunately, I don't think he quite got what I was aiming at with the ideas of Art vs. Language. In lieu of what would assuredly be annoying, I won't make a direct rebuttal, but try to clarify my position a bit since any confusion out there might just be because I haven't explained it well enough.

There are actually two separate issues involved in my discussions of Art vs. Language. The first involves socio-cultural labeling, the second is about how people treat images in our culture especially in regard to learning to draw. Let's start with the first one...

1) Art as an identifying label to justify comics' worth

My notion of visual language is largely about drawing — and moreso about drawing sequences of images. Those drawings (and sequences) are governed by mental rules, and by nature are what I'd call a "visual language."

Whether you want to call that use of the visual language "Art" largely depends on its context. Not all drawings are conceived of as "Art" (though they are sometimes terminologically conflated) — but nor are all uses of the English language called "Art." (...unless you're post-modern enough to say that everything is "art," which is fine, though I think it fails as a useful notion if it's so all-inclusive).

The point is that the label "Art" is applied interpretively to whatever it's talking about — be it process or form (issue #1).

I have no real desire to "define" the notion of "art" — I agree with the cliché that "I know it when I see it," and I generally think that's true for most people. But, for a notion so categorically vague, how can it inherently apply to anything? Why should this notion of "comics" (the socio-cultural context that this visual language is used in) be inherently "Art" at all?

And, perhaps more important to people's concerns usually... how can such an ephemeral concept be used to defend the notion and status of "comics" in society?

This idea is prescriptive: Playing the role of a critic, I think defining "comics" as "art" is less effective toward their gaining public acceptance than a notion of visual language.

2) "Art" as a sociocultural frame for treating drawings

Issue #2 of my "art vs. language" track has to do with the forces of influence on how people (and especially children) learn to draw. This is where I trot out the "Art Perspective" as a notion of the cultural forces of a particular mentality that work to temper the way people in our society draw, but I'll leave that to other posts.

This idea is descriptive: Playing the role of an academic, I'm only making analysis of the various evidence and concepts involved, and am not advocating for any type of practice per se.

In any case, I love that Nathan devoted such a long post to all this (and seems to continue to prod my stuff), and look forward to reading what else he comes up with.

"Comics" is not a medium, nor a mode of expression

Academic Henry Jenkins has a couple outtakes from his book where he discuses "comics" as being a mode of expression rather than a medium, working off the McCloudian definition of "comics" as being equal to "sequential images with/without text."

Though I frequently hear statements of faith in McCloud's definition and the propagation of it. However, I have still not received any good argumentation for why "comics" equals "sequential images with/without text." Frankly, this hasn’t surprised me, since I don’t think its possible to reasonably make such a claim.

Most people, I assume, are arguing this definition by following McCloud’s lead. However, at least in Understanding Comics, McCloud never provides an argument for his definition of "comics" either. Rather, he takes Eisner’s abstract notion of "sequential art" and then (as Horrock's first noted) recasts it as the definition for "comics." The reasoning for this follows no explicit argument, reasoning, or logic, McCloud does this solely out of preference stating,

"At one time or another, virtually all great media have received critical examination in and of themselves. But for comics this attention has been rare. Let’s see if we can rectify the situation. Eisner’s term seems like a good place to start."

And from here he begins to construct his definition around the base of "sequential art."

But, notice that from the very beginning he assumes that "comics" are a "media" to begin with, on part with "written word, music, video, theatre, visual art, and film." When separating "form from content" he assumes that "comics" are the form, not content. He begins the discussion with his position already loaded to believe that "comics" are a mode of expression, not simply an object that uses a mode of expression. He doesn’t say that sequential art is the medium that goes into the object of "comics," he makes them into the same thing.

There is no argument here for why "comics" should equal "sequential images," it is just a definition that is constructed out of the already stated assumptions that "comics" is some kind of medium.

This all has also got me wondering when "comics" as abstract notion first started emerging. Is it attributable solely to McCloud? This would be the usage of "comics," a plural, as a singular. Suddenly, instead of just being a type of book, it is able to be a medium or mode of expression (or even a type of scholarship – with far reaching implications here).

For instance, people talk as if "comics" was some sort of overarching category that subsumes manga, graphic novels, comic strips, bande desinee, etc. — "oh, they’re all just 'comics.'" Contrast this with "graphic novel." We don’t project "graphic novel" as an abstract; it’s a thing – a type of book.

If you reject the abstract formalist view in favor of "comics" only as a social object, these labels become more distinct in their own right. Graphic novels aren’t just a "type of comic," they are a format and literary movement distinct from comics. The same goes for manga, though it has even more slippery issues signifying both native Japanese works as well as a burgeoning OEL community.

The interesting thing I find in Jenkins' writing is that he heavily focuses on the associated social context of comics, while conversely saying they are a "mode of expression" that cuts beyond cultural context.

Again, to call "comics" a mode of expression misses the point. The mode of expression is drawing "sequential images with/without text" (aka "visual language" combined with "written language"). It is this mode of expression that is used within comics... and graphic novels and manga, etc. Though if you think you can prove otherwise, I'd love to hear the argument for why.

Re-un-defining "Comics"

Every now and then it's good to revisit the fundamentals. I had articulated the whole division between "comics" and "visual language" fairly well in a listserve discussion awhile back, so I thought it might be worth reposting it here for any (hopefully?) new readers that might have popped up since I started the blog…

The reality is that a notion of "comics" is not entirely grounded in aspects of structure (text/image, sequential images). "Comics" are not "juxtaposed sequential images," nor are they "text/image relations." I say this because there are examples of things that people call "comics" that fit nearly every possible distribution of these elements. Comics can have...

• wordless sequential images (should be obvious)
• text integrated with sequential images (should be obvious)
• text integrated with a single image (Family Circus, etc)
• text dominating non-sequential illustrative images (Cerebus "Reads" volumes)
• a single image (instances from various newspaper strips: The Far Side, Ziggy, etc)
• text with no images at all (Kenneth Koch's The Art of the Possible: Comics Mainly without Pictures, or "Panel One" by Alexander Danner)

This is the evidence: we call instances of all these things "comics." Given that all of these examples do exist, no precise definition can capture exactly what the label "comics" encompasses. At most, we can say that these aspects fall on some sort of graded range of prototypicality for how we determine what "are" "comics."

Yet, at the same time, there are also plenty of examples in society that do fulfill these distributions, but are not called "comics" because they don't fall into the proper social context: instruction manuals, advertisements, storyboards, illustrated books, etc. If one pursues a prescriptive definition, some of these things could be called "comics" – but that isn't the common usage by speakers of English.

Given this evidence, where does that leave our definition of "comics"? It leaves it ungrounded in structural concerns, but based on a variety of socio-cultural factors, including but not limited to:

• a physical object
• a sub-culture
• an industry
• a collection of genres (superheroes at the forefront)

The result is the realization that aspects of visual creation are entirely separate from the socio-cultural notion of "comics," despite their prevalent place used in that social context. "Comics" are written in a visual language the same way that novels are written in English.

"Graphic book"

This writer discovers the troubles of labels like "graphic novel" and "illustrated book." He eventually lands on "graphic book," and using "graphic" as a general adjective – which is interesting since I proposed much the same a year ago.

Visual Language Glossary

Over the years I've created a lot of terms for all this visual language research. Early on, I did a lot more than I have lately, but I think creating terminology was one of the ways I could be sure I was expressing exactly what I wanted rather than risking rubbing up against an existing term with another meaning. Whether this is a good technique or not... I can't say for sure.

In any case, I had intended to post a glossary for visual language terms about two years ago, but had gotten sidetracked for one reason or another. Thankfully, an email from Kelly reminded me about it, so its now online. Hope it helps for those reading through my papers.

Superheroes are not Mythology

This was originally to be a blog post, then an article, and now its back to a (rather long) blog post. I hope it stimulates some good conversation. Enjoy!

I'd like to address a common thread among comic analysis/scholarship: the belief that superheroes are modern myths. While I usually refrain from discussing "interpretive" issues like this, I can confidently say that superheroes are not modern myths in any real sense comparable to the cultural functions that myths serve.

First off, myths provide an understanding of the world for people. They can be spiritually oriented, and can give insight to daily living. This is true as much for the myths followed by people practicing the dominating religions today as it was for ancient civilizations.

Often times, people think of myths as something in contrast to the belief systems we currently have, forgetting that myths are just as much a part of modern life as they ever were. At present, we have a variety of myths that have been popular for several millennia, featuring such memorable cast members as Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, Laozi, and many other figures. These myths inform and instruct their followers (and non-followers sometimes) on how to live good lives through the stories they tell.

Granted, superheroes might inform people's lives with moralistic advice, such as Spider-Man's "With great power comes great responsibility." However, the ethics they impart are not unique to the superhero genre, and don't do so any more than other forms of literature.

The second reason that this belief is troublesome relates back to my ever pervasive interest in language. Beyond a system of beliefs, myths also provided much more for many ancient cultures, where the stories began as oral traditions and only later became written down. For these cultures, myths created a memorization system to record and pass on knowledge.

In today's literate societies, when we want to know information, we can reference a book or the Internet. In a literate society, recording of events can be done with writing, so it can be looked up at a later date. Oral cultures lack this sort of permanent and fixed record, and in its stead myths can fill the same roles.

For example, some plants are poisonous. In our society, we can record which ones are dangerous in writing to reference and pass that information on to other people. Instead, an oral tradition might use a story of some god or spirit becoming that plant -- with some aspect of the story giving the reason for why the plant is shaped as it is.

Let me make up a myth to illustrate this:

A particularly stand-off-ish woman breaks the heart of a spirit because of her "poisonous" and "sharp" tongue. Out of despondency, the spirit transforms her into a plant with pointy leaves. Thus the plant is called a "heartbreaker," and is avoided at all cost.

Myths like this are found across the globe. It not only gives a name and reason that the plant is poisonous, but also offers a way to remember the plant through a purpose for its identifying features.

This is a practical function of mythology. These stories can then be passed on orally in a package that people can remember. It is far easier to remember a series of stories than to remember a catalog of encyclopedia entries.

Superheroes do none of these things.

Sure, superheroes may be a genre with fictional reflections of our culture. But saying that they are "myths" implies that the term means just "stories" of a fantastical nature. People have often emphasized how modern narratives follow the same structures as myths, like Luke Skywalker in the Hero role popularized by Joseph Campbell. However, this only means that these modern stories draw on the same "raw materials" as myths (or the myths themselves). It doesn't mean that they are myths. Literature and myth differ to the extant that they affect people's lives.

Of course, most myths are just stories -- but the cultural context of their use makes the difference in what distinguishes them. In many ways, I think equating modern comic book superheroes to mythology denigrates the belief systems and cultures of people whose lives are or were infused with mythology. If, and only if, superheroes can serve an equal function in modern society can they be thought of as mythological.

Once you consider the practical roles myths can play to a cultural system, superheroes carte blanche do not fulfill any of the same sorts of functions. Nor should they need to. Superheroes can do just fine as a literary genre reflecting the culture we currently live in, without needlessly attempting to be legitimized through unsubstantiated comparison to other inappropriate contexts.

Naming the System

I've been thinking lately about the differences between "visual language" and "comics", and why no one has really made the separation between the two before. It struck me that our culture has never really identified there being a system of graphic communication.

We name the process of creating something visually (the act of drawing). We acknowledge various methods for creating things visually (sketching, painting, collage, etc). We also name the social context for visual creation (comics, art). However, our culture has never acknowledged the express system of visual communication by name.

This is different from spoken language, where we immediately distinguish English as a system that is different from Spanish or Mandarin. Because most drawings are iconic (resemble what they mean), I'm guessing that diversity between visual systems is unacknowledged. At best, we distinguish between "drawing style" – like superhero style, or manga style. However, these are largely just considered an attribute of the social context – not of alternate graphic systems (I think these are partially entwined).

So, in lieu of acknowleding the system itself, is it any wonder that society keeps attaching it to certain social contexts to establish its identity?

Oh "Graphic Novel", I hardly knew ye

I was in the kid's section of a bookstore the other day looking for a stickerbook for the 5 year olds I teach, and I came across a book titled "How to draw Graphic Novels" (or something like that). Yet, when I opened up the book (clearly aimed at young kids) it was all superhero stuff. Like, egregiously superheroes. Relatedly, in a Wired Magazine article about Paul Pope's upcoming Batman series, it says "DC Comics will release the first installment of his four-issue graphic novel."

These took me by surprise because my conception of graphic novels is as book length (not serialized) works, while escaping the specter of the superhero genre. It looks like people have missed the point entirely of the "graphic novel" movement, and the term is succumbing altogether to becoming purely an upscale synonym of "comics."

Quite frankly, I'm not surprised. This is what you get when you don't invoke an entirely different frame-of-mind with your vocabulary. New term, same baggage.

Though, I'm not wholly resigned about it. The term may beat the rap if enough focus and works shift away from the stereotype in order for a new frame to really be reached. But, we'll see how much weight the major comic companies throw around to prevent that from happening...

Sequart

I recently found Sequart.com site that professes to be "for the sophisticated study of comic books and graphic novels." The term "sequart" is meant as:

Sequart (n.) -- seh-kwart -- the artistic medium of sequential static imagery, whatever its composition, typically combined with text. The term is employed to distinguish the medium itself from particular genres and formats, such as comic books or graphic novels. "Sequart's diversity may be seen from Peanuts to Spider-Man, from product manuals to the Stations of the Cross."

So, basically they mean something close to VL (I mention my problems with the term in this article). Yet, despite their stated goal of reaching beyond genre, they almost solely focus on the mainstream and superhero comics. For instance, their book review of Superheroes and Philosophy really has nothing to do with "sequart," and everything to do with genre.

I couldn't even find much of anything on any of the major graphic novel publishers (Top Shelf, Fantagraphics, etc), while ample space is given to things like superhero continuity, etc. Concerns for webcomics are also conspicuously absent.

It is encouraging to find more intelligently written works of writing on such things on the web, even if they don't live up to their own stated pan-genre intentions.

The Character of "Comics"

Recently, one of the elementary school kids that I teach found out that I “drew comics” after she mentioned that she wanted to be an artist. What intrigued me (besides a 10 year old girl's exuberance that drawing comics was “cool”) was her first response: “Have you made up any characters?”

Its rather striking that the defining feature of comics to kids is characters, as opposed to say, drawing one’s own book or writing a story. Though, this shouldn’t be too strange, since much of the industry of comics is permeated by a recurring theme of characters – in strips, in books, etc. Unlike stories, characters provide a foundation for merchandising, which is where the real money is. Marvel’s website directly totes them as “one of the world’s most prominent character-based entertainment companies.”

Characters versus story also becomes one of the defining differences, I think, between “comics” and “graphic novels.” As a form of literature, graphic novels are more plot/story based in contrast to the characters of comics. This difference underscores the business side of things too. Whereas publishers put out stories by authors, companies put out characters as corporate properties.

While these characters may undergo storylines, the characters are always the primary draw. No one reads X-Men or Batman because the character-titled books have a specific story that someone finds appealing. Rather, they read the books continuously because they like the characters, and seeing what various “creative teams” subject them to. And this is never ending, so the product can be pushed endlessly.

In contrast, the characters in graphic novels take a backseat to the stories. They exist solely as pieces in the greater whole of the conveyed narrative. And, it's a narrative that will have a conclusion at some point.

The web scene seems to balance both of these. Strips by and large remain character driven, while experimental and "artsy" graphic novel-esque works (like Derek Kirk Kim) remain story driven.

Japan meanwhile seems to have the best of both worlds. While they do feature very strong (and marketable) characters, there is almost always a specific story path that they traverse. No matter how much of a character oriented juggernaut Pokémon is, the outline of a story dominates those characters. The characters exist because of the story and don’t stray from its constraints.

This is different from say, X-Men, which merely creates a premise for having characters. The X-Men aren’t moving along some grand storyline, they just interact based on a theme that “mutants exist in the world as a superpowered minority” (and can thereby also cameo in other off-theme books).

Personally, I’d think that this can be added to the list of reasons why manga have seen success in recent years amongst American audiences. Its easier to get readers hooked onto good stories with interesting characters than by character driven soap operas where the plot is auxiliary.

"Evolution" of comics

In reading several of year end wrap ups for the webcomics scene, I've seen the term "evolution of the art form" of comics used several times. I just have one question: What does this phrase mean?

There are two ways in which the word "evolution" is used, and I’m curious what people intend. In everyday speech, "evolution" means a growth into something more advanced than it was before. More (scientifically) accurate, it means an adaptation to/from/with a new environment, but not connoting any sort of advancement or progression.

If people mean the second sense of "evolution," then I can totally understand it. The Internet is very different environment posing interesting avenues for adaptation.

However, if people mean "evolution" in the first sense, regarding a progression to something better…

In what qualitative ways has the "comic medium" really become more "advanced" in the last hundred years at all? People are still drawing pictures in sequence and pairing them with words. Yes, the structure has changed – a la "language change," but this type of gradual unconcious change isn't what I think people mean.

So, some new methods of coloring have emerged from new technologies, and the Internet allows for different packaging in layouts. For formalists, I can understand how these experiments provide a fertile realm for experimentation, but in most cases they don't radically change the content of the story much (that a "message" is being conveyed by sequential images). To me, layout change like the Infinite Canvas seems a little superficial to call a major evolution – it just provides interesting (artistic) formalist experimenting.

And, some may argue that writing and storytelling have gotten better over the years, which in some domains is certainly true. Then again, pick up a book of Winsor McCay and it might surprise you. Of course, good writing and storytelling aren't dependent on the media they're enacted on. Someone could write a masterpiece on the nearly-infinite-canvas of a toilet paper roll and it could be just as good writing as something on the Internet.

I've also seen the term "evolution" used regarding economics and fandom. Without a doubt, the web provides economic potential for creators that has never been seen before. And, inventions like OhNoRobot! for fandom does provide a resource unique to the power of the web. This is certainly adaptationist.

So, what I want to ask then, is the "evolutionary potential" of the Internet simply for economics purposes and for formalists? If these are what people are using this term for, it has nothing to do with the "art form" of sequential images. Am I right that this is somewhat of a flowery vacuous term, or am I just missing something?

Introspection and the haze of definitions

In one of my linguistics classes last year, my professor claimed that the arbitrariness of language was noted as early as 2500 years ago in China, by the philosopher Laozi. For those who don’t know, arbitrariness means that the sounds of language don’t have any direct connection to what they mean, they are purely conventional associations. Usually, this insight is attributed to a linguist named Saussure, from the early 1900s, which gave rise to “structuralism” and “semiology.”

Laozi did notice that language was arbitrary, but it certainly wasn’t the intent of his observations. Really, he was pointing out that not only did words lack a connection to their meaning, but because of it they were a hindrance in the search for Truth. This is the first thing that sparked my interest in language and cognition, albeit in a roundabout way, back in high school.

I’ve been noticing lately about how this mentality really underlies my work though. For many of the things I discuss, it’s not so much a matter of defining things clearly as it is breaking down those concepts. My non-definition of “comics”: Comics is not a precise combination of text and image values, but rather a cultural object, a sub-culture, a community, a genre, etc. that exist in society.

I give a similar treatment to “Language.” Rather than saying that “language” is a thing that people can concretely put their finger on with one defining element, it is instead a manifestation of several features that include: A sense modality, sequence, meaningful reference, combinatoriality, communicative use, social usage, a social identity,… along with several others.

In both of these cases, the “definition” comes out of an aggregation of a variety of elements. But can you really say that a conglomeration of parts is really a whole “thing”? Buddhist thought would say “no” (which it does quite powerfully to the notion of a “self”). The definitions are fully understandable, yet empty.

This is also fairly apparent in my definitions of “writing” and “drawing,” which I explored in my (rather long) MA thesis. The gist was that these notions are contingent upon the systems that we use and their mapping along a large triangular map of signs. The whole triangle is the “Truth,” but nobody accesses in full. They have to access it through the portions that they cut up.

The understanding of the parts and the “why” is really what I’m after, and pushing through the illusion that the words create a concrete concept is the only way to get there.