Wittering about comics again

In which I disagree (somewhat) with two of the Mighty Godking bloggers that aren’t Christopher Bird, blogged because for some reason I can’t leave comments there. First up, Jim Smith on the hype around Clark Kent leaving the Daily Planet and what the Superman titles have been missing:

What Superman needs, I think, is consistency. Not necessarily tighter continuity, but just a general sense that this is the same character as he was 70, 20, or even three years ago. 3 Any idiot can decide to have Clark Kent, the most famous newspaper reporter in fiction, quit the newspaper business because “print is dying” and Superman has better things to do. What would be far more interesting is to explain why Clark would remain a newspaper reporter in spite of reaching those conclusions, which have presumably crossed his mind long before this week.

Thing is, the last time the Superman titles had consistency instead of a series of stunt stories was in the early nineties, when the Comics Buyers Guide praised it for being so well crafted. That was just before Image and nobody actually bought them. It was only when they killed him off that people got interested in poor old Kal-EL again. No wonder then that DC learned stunts equal success, especially if you get the mainstream media on board. With Superman you can do that, because everything said and done he’s still Superman.

Hank bitchslapping Janet

John Seavey meanwhile talks about Hank Pym the wife beater:

This isn’t to say that people should get over Hank’s actions and start liking the character or anything. The comment on io9 was totally valid. I’m certainly the last person to talk, seeing as how I haven’t been able to read a Batman comic ever since he used Brother Eye to murder a few thousand people and I still can’t stand Tony Stark, Iron Douchebag in the wake of ‘Civil War’, despite being explicitly told by Marvel’s editorial staff that his brain has been rebooted and I should just forgot he did all that imprisoning and murdering. So yeah, I can totally get how some fans can’t really get past Hank Pym slapping his wife around for trying to stop him from creating a killer robot to defeat all the Avengers to make him look good. (Because that couldn’t possibly go wrong.)

As I said last year, I liked the original Shooter story but hate how that has since defined the character, ever since Bendis and co decided this was how they could show their psychologicial insight and Serious Writer credentials. So this incident was upgraded to domestic abuse, when it really was the standard “superhero loses his mind, attacks teammates, has to win back their trusts” plotline and had long since been resolved. To make this bit of superhero soap opera into some serious statement about domestic abuse I can’t think but be a bit insulting to real life victims of it. It’s cheap, nasty and boring to keep coming back to this.

(Yes, technically Hank is a wifebeater as he hit the Wasp, but there was also the time he beat up Thor and Iron Man and the other Avengers because he’d gotten crazy again and nobody has been writing angsty stories about the time he battered his friends. You can write serious stories about domestic abuse, even with superheroes, but this isn’t how you go about it. It’s all part of that faux realism Marvel has been gorging itself on for the past decade where realism is brown and superheroes are no more than glorified bureaucrats.)

Drawing comics in Noord

flyer Noord comics competition

Edith-Made-it (aka Edith Kuyvenhoven) is a Dutch cartoonist working and living in Amsterdam Noord, the huge neighbourhood north of the IJ that isn’t quite part of Amsterdam proper still. (It’s also where I live). She graduated as a graphic designer from the Rietveld Academy and has been doing the usual cartoonist things: freelance for various magazines, getting her first album of autobiographical comics out, selling the usual shirts and merchandise, organising a comics drawing competition for school children in Noord, for the second year in a row even…

The setup is simple: all school children in the last two classes of primary school or high school in Noord can participate, the best three in each category (primary school / high school) get a small prize (from 40 to 80 euros worth of comics) and there will be an exhibition of all the nominees. At the same time Edith also provides workshops at schools or libraries during the competition. It’s the sort of cheap, grassroots art activity that comics are ideally suited for because, well, you don’t really need expensive equipment to make comics, all children love drawing and comics and it’s cheap enough to do that you can do it out of your own pocket; no subsidies required.

It’s a great initiative and I hope Edith is as succesfull with it this year as she seemed to have been last year. I only wish I’d known about it then.

Those horrible lovely comics

Books gotten in the Top Shelf sale

Grumblings about shipping costs aside, that recent Top Shelf sale had enough of interest for me to get what seemed like a container full of books today. Can you tell what it all is?

(That’s all eight issues of Alan Moore’s Dodgem Logic, a few back issues of Comic Book Artist, Jack’s Luck Runs out, Hey Mister, the Fall Collection, several Tom Hart collections, Ed Piskor’s Wizzywig, Eddie Campbell’s that Lovely Horrible Stuff and After the Snooter, Jeff Lemire’s The Underwater Welder, Jess Fink’s Chester 5000,Box Office Poison, the alternative manga collection AX, Regards from Serbia and Tony Consiglio’s 110 Percent. Whew.)

On sharing grief

Everybody’s grief is different. There is no one way in which it manifests itself, no one true prescription for how to deal with it. In the same way it’s foolish to draw up a hierarchy of grief, of trying to determine who is more entitled to their grief and for how long and what is the dignified or right way to mourn. But there are some universalities to mourning, some things that are immediately recognisable if you’ve ever lost somebody close to you.

Cartoonists Tom Hart and Leela Corman lost their two year old daughter Rosalie Lightning in November of last year, the same month as Sandra died. Ever since, Hart has been putting his grief in comic form, the first book of which was released recently. His impressions of her death and what it felt like are fragmented, not quite coherent, heartbreaking, immediately recognisable.

sequence from RL Book 1 by Tom Hart

What gets me the most is the search for meaning Hart shows, wanting to understand why this happened, but not getting a proper answer when there are no answers to be had. I’m loath to compare their grief with mine or to draw some pat lesson from it, but reading it and Hart’s blog I almost felt lucky. Lucky because I had had so long to prepare for Sandra’s death, having known almost from the time that we first started having a serious relationship about her healthcare problems, then once became acute, having three years in which her death was always a possibility, but most of all, because having had her made her own choice to end her life, she set her own deadline. That makes for a different sort of grief than that which Tom Hart and Leela Corman have been dealing with. There’s therefore only so much I could ever share with them, but it’s there in this comic.

Be warned though, Tom Hart’s comic is heartbreaking and gut punching no matter if you’ve experienced any such loss or not…

The essence of Ware

All you need to know about what makes Chris Ware tick in one page

They’re holding their annual festival of hate over at the Hooded Utilitarian and Bert Stabler took aim at Chris Ware:

In twee there is neither humor nor horror, neither conviction nor swagger, just feelings. Feelings and nostalgia for feelings. Chris Ware was sucked into this vortex, streamlining himself into a reliable product for easy digestibility by self-styled “nerds” everywhere, and so we ended up with emo comics garbage overflowing the microcosm of craft-fair entrepreneurship and spilling into Michel Gondry, Death Cab for Cutie, and overdetermined bangs (all much to Chris Ware’s chagrin, if he has any left). True, this infantile regression might have happened anyway. Maybe it was September 11th that whetted the American appetite for saccharine melancholia, but I blame Chris Ware. What twee had to offer that was positive– androgyny, sloppiness, magic– was latent but present in his flamboyant early work. He could have made different choices, But it is lost now, lost irrevocably in the sterile, commercially lubricated navel into which his vision has apparently gone to die.

I’m not sure at all that I agree with this criticism, even if there is a kernel of truth in it, but there is an argument to be made that Ware has a limited palette as a cartoonist and keeps returning to the same themes. All of which are present in the cartoon above: the selfish and socially inept protagonist, alone in an uncaring (rather than a hostile) world, reliving childhood trauma in an atmosphere of melancholy, nostalgia and sadness. Everything else in his work is just commentary, an embellishment of the same themes.