'11, pt 3

Ganges #4 by Kevin H.: modest and cerebral. The Nicholson Baker of comics? That might mean something to someone somewhere.

Now, End-Product-of-Laughter "Stitches" I Can Get Behind

My favorite sequence from David Small's Stitches (2009).

One of the reasons why I was underwhelmed by this book is that it feels like a series of painted cartoons instead of a comic. The last two panels on the page above are art school exercises: draw a curious and youthful eye (good!) and then a scary eye (good!). They are oddly free-floating illustrations, as if from a sketchbook, and it doesn't seem worthwhile to add them up. Add to the mix many pretty scenic double splash pages and there's almost too much independence.

As for the story, even though it's Small the small child who gets caught between Small the artist's tug-of-war between extreme innocence and extreme cruelty, my arms were hurt.

I am very close to declaring 2009 the Year of Trite Acclaimed Comics. Formal sophistication meets flat sentiment and thought. A thrilling style can't convincingly offset or reignite sitcom writing.

The following spring to mind:
1. George Sprott by Seth.
2. Asterios Polyp by David Mazzucchelli.
3. Greg Rucka's unbearable Detective Comics dialogue.
4. AD: New Orleans After the Deluge by Josh Neufeld.
5. The Nobody by Jeff Lemire.

You can still use words, you know.

My comic of the year? Citizen Rex for its immense difficulty and absurd final issue "message"? Maybe. Gaiman and Allred's "Metamorpho" from Wednesday Comics? Maybe. The ever-reliable Joe Sacco's Footnotes From Gaza, which I haven't yet seen and may not even be out? I'll go with Sacco any day.

Sorry, The Graphic Novel, I'm wanted elsewhere.

Shaw Could Use a Lish

Scan a 700+ page monster and you get the blurs.

Dash Shaw's Bottomless Belly Button is a cushiony comic. Place it behind your head and its brickiness will soften. I mostly mean that it's a huge hug, a pat pat on the back. No hard feelings. Barely any hardness at all. Precociousness heals all wounds.

His faces, though, on the other hand, however. Strange to think that nuance enters the picture during moments of highly overt wretchedness, but that's what I think.

Someone pioneer comics physiognomy right now. Add Sean Phillips' work on Criminal. Who else for faces? Lynda Barry's bulgers and frighteners. Basil Wolverton. John Cassaday. Charles Burns.

And now for something grocery related (also from Shaw):
BzzzzileyCyruzzzz.

Okay, There's Talking Now

Under the watchful eyes of these two pages from Sammy Harkham's Poor Sailor and as a kind of summary of comics silence, I offer the following:

-Inwardness, isolation
-Suggestion
-The end of communication/interaction
-Body language, the tip of the hat to imagery
-Disorder, scramble
-Anticipation of communication/interaction
-Suspense
-Tranquility
-Effort, work, process
-Emptiness, minimalism (certainly silence is opposed to the splash page. Silence, I think, depends on panel size; a two-page spread transgresses silence by being loud even if silent)

The scene in Poor Sailor: a husband contemplates going to sea with his brother, which would result in abandoning his wife and their unfinished home.

I'll finish with Chester Brown's Louis Riel. This typical-for-Brown four-panel sequence dramatizes at least a few of the modes I've entertained above.

Environment

I'm impressed with Hope Larson's specifically female-young-adult-tailored comics. I feel a little intrusive reading her work but that can't be bad right?
(From Gray Horses.) A silent sequence in the service of making visible the environment. The 3rd panel reveals that the black background bridge is in fact the shadow of an overpass from which Noemie emerges into the refreshment of sunlight. I like this modest surprise and brief reorientation. And how refreshing for me to read comics not published by D&Q, DC, or F!
(From Salamander Dream.) Really cool 2 pages. The freefall. The underbelly of clouds. The descent as story into the mouth of Salamander through a hole in the heart. Before the story ends it's in first-person, arms reaching up.

Thought

(From Ex Machina #6 by Vaughan and Harris.)

Mayor Hundred can't envision old New York's cause for alarm over the issue of gay marriage: "So?" This full page takes place before that response and bizarrely repeats the same image in each panel, albeit with digital modifications: zooms, crops, the third panel's de-centering. Since Harris is not drawing discernible facial shifts and bodily tics, we're not reading Hundred for any new signs of thought beyond what he's already given us: locked hands, narrowed eyes, slightly furrowed brow. Nothing changes on his face during the sequence; zero physical closure is required. The modifications in the other panels corroborate our perceptions of iconography: yup, he's biting his lip he's so deep in thought. The duplication is for drama: to simulate the attention on Hundred and the tension he's causing. (We have to flip the page to get his answer.) But the sequence also gives us the illusion that time is passing and that Hundred is taking this time to formulate a response, to wonder why he has to deal with smallmindedness, etc. Mental closure could take us ages.

The wheels are turning. The wheels are not turning. (Apologies to Samuel Beckett.)

Suspense

(From Kevin Huizenga's Curses. Click to.)

Suspense is a well duh for silence. Drop talk, drop music. Body language time. A creeping pace. Observation meets motion. Close inspection prompts revelation of the thing. I get a laugh at the whimsical aspects of all this darkness: the petite question mark in panel one, the jumping hat in panel two, and the only thing that could be said to be revealed (on this page anyways) is the reverend's single eye!

Ooga.

You Said It

(From Seth's George Sprott, 1894-1975: A Picture Novella.)

I prefer this one:

It's the wry expression staggered over two panels. It's the withdrawal from George in panel two. It's the shut door that either confirms the silence or confirms our distance. It's the smudge on the glass of backwards lettering. It's the cigarette doing the speaking. It's the act of smoking. It's the satisfied loneliness.

Process

(From Northlanders #3 by Brian Wood and Davide Gianfelice.)

Sven searches, strikes! He fishes. Water splashes. The loosed water has pretty layers and colors. There is a look on Sven's face. Two looks because there are two Svens: hovering Sven and jabbing Sven. Sven performs a task over the course of both panels, not simply in one. Fishing is the sum of actions.

August Hobbyhorses

I think a good portion of this month's posts will be about Comedy or Silence. Already begun the first, after a fashion, but would like to look at: lightheartedness, bait and switch, Mutt and Jeff. We'll also see if I can avoid resorting to Michael Kupperman. And silence: the no-words type and others.

Let's start with both.

(Attributed to Rolf Pielke from The World on Sunday collection.)