Author Archives: Nicole

Respondents: Paying Attention to Detail

A lot of the first reader posts discussed the incorporation of texts and images and how they mostly seem to blur or skew themselves, as well as the incorporation of the clear images of brands or photographs. Jessica pointed out in her first reader post that McCloud wrote “the more defined the artwork, the less relatable to the reader,” which was definitely the case for me while reading. It was a little unnerving to me to see these things that seemed so out realistic and out of place in a world that was clearly full of anguish. The mixed media artwork reminded me a lot of zine art as well, and usually I would think of the blurriness of the artwork as a soft thing, but here there is a significant harshness or crudeness (not only in the content) to it. The yellow hues remind me a lot of acid as well, which I think mirrors the deterioration of Omar’s mental state. I found that the distorted images drew me in more and had me paying more attention to the detail in those pages, while the clear images of brands or photographs jolted me out of the graphic novel, even though those distortions didn’t really have a lot of detail to begin with.

It was definitely a completely different experience than any graphic novel that I’ve read. I was frustrated and annoyed reading it the first time, but after the second time, I found myself really enjoying it and understanding that the things that I found annoying were…kind of the point?

Searchers: Marjane Satrapi’s Experiences with Comics

Looking around YouTube, I found an interview on IFC with Marjane Satrapi, where she basically goes into what comics she read as a child. She explains that most of the comics that she read, she read in France, and the first comic she received there was Art Spieglman’s Maus. She talks about how before reading Maus she thought that comics were only for children, but after reading that she realized that for her, the images and the text aren’t separate, and that comics are just another way for her to express herself. She also discusses how her grandmother influenced the way she thinks in terms of ethics.

Jimmy Corrigan: The Relationship Between Amy and Jimmy

What appealed to me most about Jimmy Corrigan (and in turn, the other Jimmys) was the essence of the “everyman” that encompassed him. Loneliness, social ineptitude–all of this was made clear in the graphic novel without much actually needing to be said. What I found most interesting was how much faster the read was towards the end when Jimmy’s half-sister Amy is introduced. As one of the first female faces we see, she seems to serve as a strong foil to Jimmy. She is adopted into a loving family, whom she remains close with throughout her life. Her mother has passed away, unlike Jimmy’s, but there still seems to be a strong connection with her despite that. During the car ride after their father has just been in an accident, she talks about how she would never want to meet her “real” mom because it would ruin everything, but she remains hesitant after that. I think it’s interesting how closely linked the two are, especially when the page of her lineage mirrors Jimmy’s earlier on in the novel. Amy serves as the more emotionally stable character, but she sort of ends up in the same scenario as Jimmy in the epilogue. I’m not sure exactly how much time has passed, but it seems like nothing has ever really changed for either of them in the end.

Respondents: What do you think is the significance of Amy ending up in the hospital where both her parents have passed away? Do you think that Amy and Jimmy could have maintained any sort of sibling relationship after the death of their father?

Respondent: The Impact of Metafiction

One of the things that I enjoy most about Maus is the fact that it is so aware of itself, or rather, that Art Spiegelman is so aware of himself as character and author. The accuracy in story telling is something that all memoirists struggle with, and I read the metafiction, as Alex’s first reader post points out, as something that makes it a bit more authentic. The fact that Art points out, “In real life, you never would have let me talk this long without interrupting” (16), putting his anxieties to the forefront, actually sort of builds trustworthiness of the narrator. Specifically in the “Time Flies…” section, he is upfront about his struggles as an author again for an extended period of time; this is incredibly powerful. This snapshot of Art, because the novel is so non-linear, is something that keeps it all bound together. Not only is Art aware of his own anxieties as the author, he is aware of the reader’s anxieties on trying to find meaning in his book. He starts to shut down on page 42, as interviewers are hounding him for a message he didn’t mean to convey and things he hasn’t even thought about. Art as the character and the author doesn’t have all the answers and hasn’t considered everything, and that frankness is something the reader is now aware of. The more honest Art is with himself in Maus, the more honest he is with the reader, and strengthens that relationship as well as the book’s impact.

Dr. Manhattan: The Superman Exists and He’s Human

In Chapter 6, the complexities of Dr. Manhattan as a supernatural being are explored further. While searching for more in-depth character analysis of Dr. Manhattan, I came across this blog post by Dave Jones on thehogshead.org (which is primarily a Harry Potter blogging site, but still a particularly good analysis). Jones describes Dr. Manhattan’s talk on Mars with Laurie as his realization about humanity through perseverance in the face of adversity that leads him to “a strange moment of poetry.” As the God-figure, he is humanized in his escape to Mars and his sort of, stumbling upon a miracle in Laurie. I think the post does a good job of connecting Dr. Manhattan’s detachment from humanity as a recognition to his own humanity.

First Readers, The Dark Knight Returns – Nicole Ocran (Group 1)

Scott McCloud’s idea that comics are a medium in which the audience is a willing and conscious collaborator is a compelling one. I love the idea of a participatory audience and taking the fact that we are not static readers into account. In Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, the audience is quite literally that, as we are dropped right into our couches watching a Gotham news telecast. I was pretty annoyed every time I had to read (or watch?) the newscasters or the debates on Point vs. Point, mainly because the questioning of the validity of Batman continues to live on through the media, but I thought that it was a great example of the closure McCloud talks about in our reading. A great example of this that comes to mind is the black frames on page 67, where Batman and one of the Mutant gang members are talking. The simplicity of the gray and purple speech bubbles leaves a lot to the imagination–where are they? What does the Mutant look like? And then as Batman takes his hands off the Mutant’s eyes, we are immediately placed in his (the Mutant’s) shoes, about to fall off of Gotham Towers. The ease in which the reader is able to become any character in the comic is a spectacular feat. Reading other literary texts doesn’t allow for much of that–I can see myself in the shoes of Holden Caulfield or Mrs. Dalloway, but here I am Batman looking into the eyes of my new Robin.