Thursday, September 25, 2014

Underground Comics


Surprisingly, I thought I'd hate every single underground comic that I came across online or in class. Which, I really do to some extent since 'adult' or porn comics are a big no-no for me, but I can't get past the fact that these comics are unedited and uncensored and telling of the world as it is to these comic book artists. There's always a hard truth behind every comic, no matter how raunchy or intensionally offensive it is. Of course, some I don't even understand because it's so random and blotted with conscious thoughts here and there, but there's always a will and motivation behind each story and panel that the original 'artist' was trying to jot down. Not all of the 'artists' were even experienced with drawing before, as we discussed that one line of comics were drawn by people who use to take LSD (or some other hard drug). But each artist has been known mostly of the middle-class, and what their personal experience with life or drugs leech out and form some kind of obtuse idea of a comic for other people to read.


Some of Robert Crumb's Mr. Natural highly restates events of uncensored truths and denied responsibilities. I think of these comics as personal diary entries of ideas of whatever comes across this man's brain (whether or not he was high or not, since I don't know the details). No one would ever steal money from a Buddhist homeless man, give it to a young girl of color, and then it would somehow cascade to a gang wanting that homeless man's income of free money which would lead to that man going to an insane asylum to find inner peace. BUT, it's a radical way of getting someone thinking of the poverties of today, of seeing homeless on the street, and thinking that there really are people out there that steal money from homeless people and a constant threat of gangs and racism. None of these comics paint a pretty color of the world, but it does make perceiving the world sharper and clearer and expectant of what's to come from certain outcomes.

Eisner and Thompson's Approach to Comics



Clarity. That is the main reasons why both of these comic book artists are so successful for what they've drawn. Clarity in posture, emotion, and action. Eisner's A Contract With God may be about the fateful live of a Jewish man and a contract he wrote on a rock at a young age, which is very odd (though insightful), but we are lead step by step and clear readings to understand each panel to it's fullest. Eisner even wanted to publish it as a graphic novel because he wasn't sure what it was, but eventually had to publish it as his own comic since it fit under the category than a foretold written story. It's easy reading because the characters in each panel perceive exactly what the written words are conceiving. Nothing is confusing. The raining water is the most interesting part I found personally - when it rains, it pours. Just exactly like he drew it out.

Thompson's work, on the other hand, is like a more evolved version of Eisner's work. It has just as much clarity, but it's stylized in such a cool and neat way that even the borders of his panels and fun to look at. The subject matter Blankets cover is definitely of personal accounts, but ones that teens can relate to the most. Emotions and mood swings can be seen in all of the characters he's able to draw through body shapes and simplified but whimsical facial expressions. Even if I wasn't personally drawn to the subject matter, I couldn't help but love the composition of each frame and page Thomson laid out. It reminded me of woodcut work from when I used to do printmaking in high school, and woodcut was always my favorite medium to work with. You can't ever get too detailed with carving hard surfaces, but you can still figure out a way to chisel a fine and emotional line quality in the wood that would eventually turn into a finished composition. And that's what I feel toward's his work, even if a layout of a page is of two sailors floating on a large poo floating down a diarrhea river.



Beginning of Comics



The '30's to '60's was the real start of mass-produced comics for all ages to take a hold of. Cheap newsprint paper, around sixty-four pages, and sold at almost any convenience store, these things were everywhere, even in the army. The attraction to these wordy comics with panels, in a way, 'seducted' the innocent into learning literacy in a way as well. Though, since comic book-making was started primarily in a male-industry, mostly every costumed character and arthur was made by men, for men (or boys). If there were relationships, it was always a man and a woman. If there was always a woman, that woman would relate to a man by being romantically involved with him, or an evil seductrise in a way. Even the romance comics made to appeal to women seemed to still have a rather male audience because of the woman-in-distress-and-needs-an-attractive-man-to-rescue-her with necessary male-gaze body shots and whatnot.

Another thing about standard costume superhero comics is that the reader must be a die-hard fan and read every issue from the start to the most recent that is on the market in order to understand the storyline and the plot. I'd be confused with picking up a random Superman comic off of a shelf and start reading it without my input of heavy background information for everything to make sense. I personally don't like the standard issues of these comics because it's more wordy than action to action pictures, but, I can understand being on a strict time schedule and a limited amount of pages to fit all of the drawn content on. I also noticed as well that the exchanged artists in some of the mass produced comics seem to be really lazy in some drawn panels, like drawing lazy-eyed faces that seem to be more comedic to look at than the actual story of the comic. I'd blame it on the lack of coffee, but simple errors like that in a comic really throw off my emersion. Guess the motto for back then was quantity over quality.

Little Nemo, Calvan and Hobbs, and Peanuts


Charles Schulz may not be the first artist to innovate taking the kid's eye view seriously (Little Nemo definitely beat him to that), but it still counted as a turning point in every day kid's comics. Peanuts is a long debut of self-experiences made by Schulz, made by a once-kid for kids. Kids are broken from adult ways of life and are focused with who closely can talk to and interact with them, whether it be their best friends or their favorite stuffed animal. The adults and teachers are pushed to the side and insignificant to the main strip because that ain't something a kid wants to focus on. Instead, kids want to look for fun and adventure, and not be lectured by an adult all day. They want to discover things for themselves. Each little comic strip is it's own little learning experience, and, even if they're not exactly laugh-out-loud material, the real hint of irony and sarcasm is what make each enjoyable.


The success of these tiny comics even pushed other comics to the same size Schulz's was. Not because of forced ordering, but instead, by encouraging imitation. The easy-read caricatures, as related back to Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, are icons in themselves that relate to so many people on their own levels that everyone can pick up a newspaper, read it, and get personally attached to them. But the downside is that all of these comics have aged, sadly. No kid plays marbles or other old forms of child's play. They're becoming harder to relate to because the norm of today is becoming more and more different than how it was back then. It truly is turning to more of comic of it's time than of a contemporary comic of today.

Understanding Comics

Scott McCloud makes the interesting point that in his comic, there are a range of icons (not symbols) that are used in comics that we relate to. He explains that we are a self-centered race, and we somehow always find ourselves relating and/or extending ourselves to inanimate objects all the time. The majority of all those icons pin down to one factor - the face.




The face is what makes us involved in reading comics and watching cartoons. Cartoonists simplify a face to the point to whoever looks at it can perceive themselves as that character, or insert themselves in their shoes. No one can ever truly draw the visual we see when looking at someone's face in real life, so in turn, everyone ends up drawing their own simplified perception of someone's face whom they can relate to. Be it two dots for eyes and a line for a mouth, Bart Simpson, or Superman, we all can see them with human expressions because our mind processes them that way. It's a main reason why kids are so drawn into watching cartoons on the television all the time - whatever the cartoon adventures through, the kid adventures as well in their own universe. The kid becomes the character.


But the other cool thing that we're able to do as humans is extend ourselves to whatever objects we hold or are placed in. Our minds extend to the boundaries of what we are around, and also in a way, become that object. If we're driving a car, and someone fender-benders our car, we automatically think, "That idiot hit me!" instead of "That idiot hit my car!". I do the same when I play action video games and the character I'm playing as gets attacked in some way. The responsibility of you behind the object you relate to becomes personal, and therefore, you take personal offense to whatever happens to the object. When people insert themselves in the shells of characters they read in comics, the emotional or physical trauma that character goes through always tends to lead to imaginative personal offense as well. (But of course, not all comics are great at breaking that down, so it doesn't always work.)