Instead of focusing on how disturbed I am by the content of Nat Turner, I’m instead going to reflect on the experience of reading my first graphic novel. To begin, I have to admit how skeptical I was about reading a graphic novel for a graduate English course. Call me traditional, but I didn’t think it was accurate to say I was going to “read” a graphic novel. Now I see that I passed judgment too early, as my reading skills were certainly exercised throughout this book. (Interestingly, I’ve never had a problem saying I’m “reading” a book on CD, which I do all the time, so obviously I was prejudiced against the genre, incorrectly assuming it had no intellectual merit.)
When I first opened the book, I was struck immediately by the amazing illustrations. I was entranced by the detail of facial expressions and body language, as well as the variety of and intricate details within the images. I hadn’t intended to read the book straight through, but I was in such awe that I couldn’t put it down. Granted, that awe was often replaced by revulsion, but any book that has the power to evoke such strong emotional responses obviously merits examination. I exclaimed out loud on a few occasions, and I studied several of the more grisly images longer than I was comfortable with because I just couldn’t look away. I was amazed by Baker’s ability to disgust me with what are essentially cartoon images. I had previously thought that the subject matter would have to be affected by the method of presentation (after all, how seriously can you take a comic?), but I quickly learned that I was looking beyond the method of illustrating and studying the content itself.
On pages 88-90, for example, I am amazed at how clearly Baker conveys young Nat Turner’s dilemma: he has to feign ignorance when the overseer finds him with the Bible—in fact, he looks downright comical in his pretended stupidity—yet immediately afterward, in the bottom panes of page 90, Turner’s hatred for the white man (as well as his own circumstances) is clear. I’m not sure it would be as effective to try to convey these feelings in words (no matter how powerful and compelling the diction), so in this way the image is superior. (Even as I write this, I’m amazed that I’ve been so quickly convinced. I’m a fierce proponent of the power of words, so I feel disloyal in acknowledging the validity of what feels like the antithesis of all I stand for as a reader and writer. That said, I’m already looking for other examples of graphic novels to read, though preferably less disturbing ones.)
As I start to wrestle through the idea of possibly teaching a graphic novel (issues of school and parent approval aside), I can see several pros and cons. The pros are obviously that kids would enjoy the experience (in fact, many of them read graphic novels already), and that the story is immediately clear to anyone who is capable of reading facial expressions and body language (almost everyone). I also think a graphic novel would be a great way to talk about basic plot structure in a text (e.g. locate the exposition of the story, identify the climax, is there resolution?, etc.). The biggest drawback is that of course the students wouldn’t be learning traditional reading skills (taking meaning from words and paragraphs), but there’s plenty of traditional reading built into the curriculum already. I’ll hold the rest of my thoughts about how to teach it until next week.
The last comment I want to make has to do with how disturbed I was by the subject matter, so I’ll try to make it brief because I know I could go on at length about that. As entranced as I was by the book, I was equally concerned by the fact that Baker presents Turner as a hero. I agree with what Jennifer said in her post—I readily admit the inhumanity of slavery, but I don’t see Nat Turner’s actions as a justifiable retaliation, and I also suspect his understanding and application of Biblical teachings. It seems to me that the Nat Turner portrayed in this book would be dismissed as a religious fanatic today. I know this is a simplistic stating of the case, but I couldn’t comment on the book without remarking on the one glaring drawback I perceived. The questionable nature of Baker’s portrayal doesn’t in any way hurt my appreciation of the genre, and that’s why I’ve tried to address the two issues separately. I hope we can do the same in class next week.
I’m glad that you’ve separated your response to Nat Turner into two categories: a reaction to the form of the graphic novel and a reaction to the contents of the graphic novel. Indeed, accepting this separation of form and content is one of the most difficult hurdles in understanding graphic narratives. Graphic novels can be about anything: personal memoirs, the Holocaust, superheroes, immigration, slavery, zombies, whatever. They can be whimsical, they can be satirical, they can be deadly serious.
As for the content of Nat Turner, I believe we’re supposed to be simultaneously compelled to turn the page and horrified by the atrocities we see. I wonder if Baker’s preface actually does a disservice to the graphic novel, as he focuses on heroism, while the contents of the graphic novel adhere closely to the actual text of The Confessions of Nat Turner. So, the religious zealotry wasn’t hyped up for the graphic novel; if anything Baker toned it down. It’s also important to remember the historical context: the whole country at the time was being swept by the Second Great Awakening, in which white and black communities alike were revitalized with religious fervor. Turner’s interpretations of the Bible in some way were just the flip side of the coin—an opposite spin on the same Bible that was being used at the time to justify slavery.