Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Comics as Contemporary Literature

   Recently it would seem that comics have become much more common than they've been in the past. The digital world has certainly made the proliferation of comics much easier. Most people nowadays read some form of comic anyway. Web comics are very popular, and many go to see movies based on comics. As time goes on, people move and do at a faster pace, and as such, ideas of entertainment will reflect this.

   As of today there are plenty of legendary works that define the medium of comics as literary marvels and as culture and technology advance, there will certainly be no end to it. People are fascinated with stories about the surreal and the fantastic. People also loves good visuals to enhance the narrative. Comics clearly can provide both. While comics are sometimes considered to be lesser in stature to a more formal source of entertainment, such as the paperback novel, it would appear that this is more of a personal preference. Comics are widely spread and very much appreciated by any demographic. 

   Comics exist as any genre with wildly varied appearances and lengths and with the advent of motion comics, games and film may now include sound and movement. There is no limit to the versatility of the craft other than those who create it. My only concern is that the prospect of business will hamper the quality of genuine craft.

Reconsidering the Superhero

    Besides the awesome art style or nifty premise a story might have, it needs to have substance to really draw me in. The Authority and V for Vendetta are my best examples, although I've heard a lot about Watchmen being even better. I become fully involved with a story when its characters thoughts or the conflict in question challenges my thinking. I already know the characters are having it tough, now I want the story to go out of its way to make my life a crisis. Make me work for that sweet and satisfying end! Or better yet, leave it ambiguous so that I can figure out how it may have ended!

    For me a shallow attempt at a hero story is the classic brooding Mary Sue-type character that is barely worth spitting at who suddenly obtains superhuman or alien abilities, then he becomes a symbol for hope and freedom and the human will to persevere. I've had enough of that!  Far too many characters have virtually the same origin stories and it wears on me quickly. Alan Moore's characters tend to be more down-to-earth in their behavior and personality. They have introspective thoughts and character flaws, which makes them much more accessible. Sure his stories are grittier, but that's the idea! It's a big bad universe, and in a world where there should be batshit carnage, why not make it appear so?

   Something else that bothers me are resurrection and reboots. Actually, as far as comics be concerned, I'm not sure there's a difference between the two. I like a story to move forward, regardless of events that occur. I find it very enjoyable and clever when writers manage to pull a character through even though he/she should be utterly spent. Because of this outlook, reboots are a lazy excuse for a lack of creativity. Either that or money is more important than quality storytelling.

   Since I find myself leaning more toward anti-heroes as more relatable characters, I've comes to classify characters as one of two archetypes: Soldiers and Superheroes. Judge Dredd, Batman, Black Widow and V being soldiers, and characters such as Martian Manhunter, Superman, Hulk and Thor being superheroes. Within these two concepts you typically have either technology or magic. Most often their separate, even if they're both present in a given continuity, but occasionally they can blend. I prefer technology, since machinery and guns are one of my personal aesthetics, and it usually has a practical explanation that I can research and accept. Now I'm not saying that superheroes don't have plausible explanations for their abilities, but as far as I know, there are far fewer. I like the common men stuck knee-deep in the trenches with no way out. I want to see them find their way out or die trying!

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Stereotypes in Comics

Racism has always made me feel unclean whenever it turns up. Depending on the message it can be used strategically for dramatic effect or to make a point, which is fine, but it takes subtlety and understanding to execute it properly. I have read authoritative fiction in which racial slurs were very effectively used in context, and as long as there is appropriate context, the mere presence of a racial remark can be ignored.

Will Eisner speaks of the necessity of stereotypes in comics to communicate a mood or message. While his argument was valid during his time, it would seem that now things are less back and white. Contemporary graphic literature is much more interpretive and no longer needs to rely on such blatant symbolism (such as the good gun and bad gun). While part of his argument does remain it's given more toward a philosophical perspective that allows the reader to decide for themselves whether something is "good" or "bad."

Recent films such as the Transformers movies and Cop Out were good examples of cheesy stereotypes employed for cheap laughs. I'm not so easily amused. I found those films quite irritating with the gratuitous attempts at humour to the point where it started to anger me. Whether it was racially insensitive writing or the simple fact that the jokes sucked I cannot say. In either case, it's still stereotype and I'm tired of it.

Despite all we covered in class that day, racism never comes up in my work as a problem to be dealt with. If it appears in my work I work carefully to use the idea to enhance the story in a dramatic way, or I omit it entirely, and even then, it only appears so often. I don't want one concept to receive emphasis of so many others. For me the most common stereotype to deal with is the Mary Sue character. I can't stand them. It is these characters that helped drive me away from anime, actually. They're far too powerful, too brooding, and all too common. It's as though I have to go extra lengths just to make sure there aren't any in my work, but like I said earlier, there can be a time and place for these sorts of things.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Autobiographical Nonfiction

As much as I keep fictional stories for myself, nonfictional stories are often given to life. I've learned that experiences in life are like scars and that while they are often ugly in their own right, they all can speak in your favor.

I may not be any original saying this, but I was that outcast in middle and high school. Constantly I was ostracized by my peers for being outlandish. I never viewed myself as different, never really wanted to be. I just wanted to exist, so finding a suitable circle of friends wasn't difficult. We always spoke of our futures and what we aimed for in the long-run. It's amazing how such beautiful stories are wrought from simple discussion.

Autobiographical non-fiction is pretty much just that! Writers delve into their experiences and share them with us in all their raw and sugar-free splendor. Something I prefer, actually, is to tell it like it is. Some of their stories are very similar to what I'd ask someone or myself such as: "What would it be like to be a woman?" or "Where can I find out about problems I've had my whole life that I've only recently discovered?" These writers and artists set out to ask these very same questions and then answer them in their own way while leaving you with enough room to put yourself in their position, especially if you are coming from the same beginning i.e. Blankets.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Anime, Manga and Japan

Ten or eleven years ago anime was an underground trend known only to a few promiscuous nerds. I was one of them, because the powers that be willed my communion with the now-dubbed wiiaboo subculture.

I've read a few manga, watched countless anime, and while not being a fan of it, have a sizable reservoir of knowledge associated with the craft. I grew away from anime/manga purely as a cosmetic preference, and I have no objections to the wide-spread acceptance of the form. The world abroad loves it, and I would be foolish to denounce it simply because it may not appeal to me.

One being used to what we consider to be a conventional graphic format of reading left to right and top to bottom is entirely different from the way it works in Japan, and yet similar somehow. In some ways it's a little easier on the readers. I mentioned that our comics work from top to bottom, but the English language is a horizontal one. Japanese is vertical, and as such, the images are arranged vertically along with the vertical format of the printed books themselves. This is quite enjoyable, and makes for a punctual experience.

It often annoys me when a graphic novel or comic (though less often so) incorporates a massive wall of text. It's a visual narrative, so the text should be kept to a surmountable limit. Manga appears to be very good about keeping that balance.


- Cameron

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Motion Comics

For a long time I've been at odds with the very notion of motion comics. Are they necessary? Probably, probably not. The aim of the comic artist is to capture the essence of movement with a static image, conveying what has come and what is to come by emphasizing a single frame of character. Motion comics, to me, are simply this concept taken literally.

I prefer to interpret these things as the artist saw them in their basest form. I don't want the process lain before me like someone is holding my hand to do it. It's like the difference between Christianity and Atheism with Agnosticism in between - it seems to me that the motion comic doesn't know which one to be. Motion comics should be treated as a fascinating supplement to the medium, not a possible vestige for supplantation. Motion comics are dependent on a comic reader's ability to follow an arranged series of panels and composition, much less so than traditional comics. This guidance may or may not help veteran readers figure out new ways to enjoy comics, or new readers learn the way comics work. Like I said, it's a supplement, nothing more, not that it's a bad thing.

The Comic Book

To me the continued narrative is an essential aspect of storytelling. We begin with some sort of encounter or conflict and observe a character or several as they strive to reach a goal. This series of events that leads to an outcome fills the air around us with suspense, and of course we love it. We love drama! The exaggeration of dramatic storytelling creates a larger-than-life scenario that we can immerse ourselves in and satisfy that craving for that over the top experience.

Where the comic strip typically lives in the amber of the moment, a continuous narrative surrounds a character with a sense of purpose and gives them some long term objective that may give us hope to one day overcome some adversity in our lives.

With this in mind, I have been writing, in longhand, a manuscript for the last twelve years. I wouldn't even consider it 1% complete. Not finished, but complete. Fully established as a universe of its own. This, however, isn't what I want to talk about. What I really want to talk about is the idea of continuous narrative and how I came to realize its importance to me.

My universe began with a very simple concept, as ideas often do. A few close friends and I frequently played Ghost Recon Island Thunder over Xbox Live for some time and had exhausted the game's potential for entertainment. Eventually we came up with something to rejuvenate our excitement. The three or four of us decided to continue the story ourselves, making up our own enemies and environments. Engineering our own characters and sending them off into the depths of hell to return grizzled bitter bastards who'd seen it all!

Over the last twelve years these men and women have reached new understanding, interacted with countless other characters, fought in almost every conceivable type of battle, and had honed their trades to the utmost efficiency as they struggle to survive the ruthlessness and lethality of their dark and gritty reality. These characters are how we see ourselves if this really were our reality. Whenever I refer to my character in conversation, I speak of him in the first person sense, referring to him as "me" not "he." While this sometimes compromises the momentum of conversation, I have to qualms about doing it. This is how I envisioned myself in my universe. Why create a fictional reality if you won't excercise the unique advantage of participating in it?

I am about 600 years of age and am now on a campaign to help one of the friends I began this endless journey with discover the secrets of his past. Together we will face the odds of this hostile universe and learn what we must. But what will happen after then, if we succeed? Who knows! Though I doubt we'll be content to ignore it!