Graphic Novels A:  History and Trauma

Session Coordinator: Richard Iadonisi
Dept. of Writing, Grand Valley State University
215 Lake Ontario Hall, Allendale, MI 49401
iadonisr@gvsu.edu

 

Trauma, History, and September 11:

Art Spiegelman’s In the Shadow of No Towers as Visual Witnessing

In a 2003 NPR interview, Art Spiegelman speaks of his latest work, In the Shadow of No Towers, as a return to the way news was covered before photography: he notes that a photograph is “the equivalent to writing in the third person,” in that it seems to speak with “a voice of authority.” Spiegelman goes on to note that fiction has taught us that this seeming authority is simply a voice, while comics can be a method of “visual witnessing,” an artist declaring “I saw this.” Spiegelman’s work arises at the crossroads of personal and world history, both of which are traumatic. No Towers manifests its traumatic content through a number of innovate formal and structural tactics that differ greatly from those employed in his earlier work Maus, which has also often been analyzed as historical trauma; these strategies include the obsessive repetition of the image of the towers, multiple narrative and visual threads on each page that mimic Spiegelman’s traumatized, fragmented, and disconnected consciousness, and a collage of different visual styles including digital paintings and homages to early newspaper cartoons. The second part of the book, comprised of reproductions of tricolor Sunday supplements from the early 1900s that inspired the iconography and layouts of Spiegelman’s work, creates its historical framework. The deliberate juxtaposition of representations of 9/11 with early twentieth century newspaper cartoons evokes the similarities and divergences of our own moment with that of a century ago and finds many resonances. These strategies make No Towers not just an autobiographical graphic work, but a work of visual witnessing that represents the workings of an artist attempting to work through the trauma of September 11 via, in part, historical consciousness.

Laura Beadling

Purdue University

beadling@purdue.edu

"Framing History"

 

In several of her essays on comics, Leslie Scalapino takes the sequential development of narrative employed by comics as a way of exploring the "unfolding of phenomena" as it is recorded and reconstructed to appear cohesive. In my paper, I elaborate on Scalapino's treatment of the frame as both separate and collective moments as each contributes to a larger text, by examining not only the content of each frame (as Scalapino does) but the spaces between them--the "gutter" as Scott McCloud refers to it in Understanding Comics. Building upon McCloud's theory here, I treat the gutter as an active space in which readers are required to connect through interpretation a series of discrete moments; the construction of narrative literally takes place as readers move from one frame to the next, which has many social and political implications beyond, though intertwined with, formal narrative concerns. My paper is particularly interested in these implications as they constitute the construction and (re)telling of historical events, insofar as I explore the impact of the sequential frame structure on several comic books concerned with storytelling an its relationship to history. With a primary emphasis on Art Spiegelman's Maus: A Survivor's Tale and In the Shadow of No Towers, I seek to explore these issues of form and their impact on the historical narratives that Spiegelman constructs from them. Some of my key concerns are Spiegelman's explicit interest in the act of writing historical texts; the construction of history and its complex intertwining of personal and communal concerns; and the political implications of the writing of history, especially as he develops upon this issue raised in Maus in In the Shadow of No Towers, in which he examines the more malevolent effects of creating historical narratives in media. Developing from Spiegelman's work, I am also interested in the connection between comic books and biography/autobiography, incorporating texts such as Seth's Palookaville, Joe Matt's Peepshow, and Julie Doucet's My New York Diary. Further questions I will undertake here: What is the relationship between time and perception and the frame? What does it mean to represent historical events along a non-linear chronological model? How can one represent his or her own experience in comics as "true" both personally and in a larger historical context?

 

Angela Szczepaniak

SUNY Buffalo

Aws4@buffalo.edu

 

Of Mice and Men: Collaboration, Post-Memory, and Working Through in Art Spiegelman’s Maus: A Survivor’s Tale

 

The vast majority of critics writing about Art Spiegelman’s Maus: A Survivor’s Tale occupy themselves with the ethics of representation—both graphical and linguistic—of the Holocaust, memory, and trauma. To date, Maus as a collaborative autobiography and the intricacies of the collaborative struggle between Vladek Spiegelman and Art Spiegelman have gone largely unexplored. Thus, this conference presentation will investigate the collaborative partnership of Vladek and Art—its constitution, its enactment, its graphical representation—and how, as a site of tension in its own representation, it not only complicates autobiographical questions, but also opens the door to as-yet unspoken dialogues concerning Maus. Specifically, since by definition autobiographical “collaboration” implies varying degrees of mutuality and (un)co-operation, and since the collaboration between Vladek and Art is distanced, both temporally and qualitatively across generations, it makes sense to discuss Maus in terms of what, in her 1994 landmark essay, Marianne Hirsch coined “post-memory.” However, I propose extending this treatment of Maus by triangulating it in conversation with Dominick LaCapra’s readings of “acting out” and “working through,” not in order to initiate a detailed psycho-analytic reading of Maus, but rather to allow for a dialectical exploration of both the collaboration and the graphical and linguistic representations to which it necessarily gives rise, while simultaneously exploring the extent to which both contribute to, or detract from, memorial and post-memorial processes of working through of Holocaust traumas. I resist readings of Maus which confine it to traditional writer-speaker paradigms and obviate the multiplicity of Spiegelman identities (Art and Vladek) at work within and without the text. Rather, by exploring Maus as a collaborative autobiography and the role of the collaboration itself in acting out/working through traumas, I will explore the nature of the familial collaborative partnership as necessarily without fixity—that is, as an embodiment of the multitude of competing, struggling intersubjectivities always at work in collaboration, and certainly in familial collaboration. Indeed, read through the lenses of post-memory and acting out/working through, Maus offers a chance to rethink the familial model of collaboration as an embodied performance that necessarily sets in motion cross-generational constitutive processes of exchange—of memory, of meaning, and of knowledge—and how these ever-evolving processes cannot be neatly theorized (or represented) along traditional (auto)biographical lines.

 

Janice Morris

Univ. of British Columbia

janicemorris@shaw.ca

 

 

Reading Joe Sacco’s “comics journalism”: Trauma, Word, and Image

 

Visual theorist W. J. T. Mitchell, addressing in these terms the paradoxical nature of the prescriptive figures of the “Unspeakable” and the “Unimaginable” in public discourses about trauma, points to a poignant truth about words and images. Terrorism, atrocity, and genocide seem to take our words and images to a point of non-return, a place of silence and darkness. Yet in spite of their inadequacy, verbal and visual representations of traumatic events saturate our media-driven and highly visual culture. This intricate nesting of visual and verbal discourses subtly shapes and sustains our collective cultural memory. Thus understanding the nature of visual/verbal interactions and developing a form of “word-and-image” literacy are, for our age, something of an ethical imperative.

I propose to study one of Joe Sacco’s graphic novels, Safe Area Gorazde (2000), where verbal and visual narratives intertwine in an effort to represent the utterly traumatic experiences of Bosnians in a besieged Muslim enclave during the Yugoslav War. The mixed-media form Sacco adoptsa combination of drawings with wordsallows the artist to challenge the figures of the “Unspeakable” and “Unimaginable” by simultaneously speaking and showing. Asserting the permeability of boundaries between verbal and visual domains, this work invites reflection on the dynamics that underlie its aesthetic strategies. How do we process verbal and visual signs separately and together? How do the verbal and visual dimensions of the text carry the meaning of the traumatic story? How does multimodal rhetoric operate? Precisely the interplay, reciprocal framing, and frictions between words and imagesI will argueallow Sacco to grapple with all that most resists representation. By relying on genre-specific formal features such as the interaction of words and images, narrative economy, visual signification in the gap between frames, and temporal and spatial compression, this work becomes a powerful vehicle for the representation of trauma.

 

Laura Di Prete

University of South Carolina

lauradiprete@hotmail.com

 

Graphic Novels B:  Politics and History

Session Coordinator: Richard Iadonisi
Dept. of Writing, Grand Valley State University
215 Lake Ontario Hall, Allendale, MI 49401
iadonisr@gvsu.edu

 

"The World Doesn't Make Sense Unless You Force it To": Frank Miller's Dark Knight and Reaganite Entertainment

Two important influences inform my discussion: the Marxist-leaning critics of the UK film journal Movie (Andrew Britton is credited with coining the term) and their analysis of Hollywood in the late seventies and early eighties; the work of Jane Feuer on television of the Reagan era, in particular her discussion of the "made-for-tv- trauma drama." By discussing a framework for how to characterize the mainstream culture of the 1980s, I will discuss Frank Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns in that context. Dark Knight, in explicitly evoking the imagery of the hero riding on a horse, is a very obvious example of Reaganite entertainment (even as it directly satirizes Reagan himself): the decaying Gotham City, the weakness of liberal social approaches to the problems, the justification of vigilantism (in this same era is the notorious Bernie Goetz case). Whatever claims favorable critics made to the way Miller added "complexity" and "depth" to the character of Batman/Bruce Wayne, the text remains sympathetic to Batman's crusade (even the term "holy war," evoked in the narrative, carries conservative religious implications).


Thomas B. Grochowski
Seton Hall University

grochoth@shu.edu

 

 

 “One Should Never Forget”: The Entangling of

History and Memory in Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis

 

Marjane Satrapi’s graphic novel Persepolis is not only a memoir of Satrapi’s life from the ages of ten to fourteen but also her history of the Iranian Revolution. In her introduction, she argues that Iranians have been portrayed as fundamentalists, fanatics, and terrorists, that “this image is far from the truth”, and that her novel is an attempt to counter that image (2). Satrapi’s objective raises some interesting questions concerning narrative, form and historiography. How does one use the form of the graphic novel to convey one’s role in the processes of history? How do you read a memoir and history told through a literary form that itself does not have much academic history? How do you work to correct an image that is “far from the truth” by replacing it with a personal and conjectural rendition of memory, as from the stance of history’s eyewitness? And finally, how do you attempt to read a narrative, so personal and conjectural as a memoir, as history?

 

I intend to examine this graphic novel as a literary representation, in text and image, of the entanglement of history and memory. By presenting her own images and memories of the Iranian Revolution, I see Satrapi attempting to disrupt the master-narratives of Iranian history on two levels, one as told by Islamic historical revisionists of the Iranian Revolution, and the second as created by dominant Western perceptions influenced by discourses of secularism and Western feminism. My paper will examine the ways that Satrapi uses the genre to negotiate between image and “truth” so that image is re-centered as a form of truth imbricating historiography, memoir and the graphic novel.

Richard Iadonisi

Grand Valley State University

iadonisr@gvsu.edu

 

Despite his objections to the term, Jack Jackson’s Los Tejanos is “revisionist history,” seeking to re-insert into Texas’s struggle for independence the figure of freedom fighter Juan Seguin.  Jackson portrays Seguin sympathetically as racial other, demonized by Anglo colonizers and rejected by his Mexican compatriots, an embodiment of what Homi Bhabha terms “unhomed.”  This paper will explore the various authorizing strategies that Jackson employs in his attempts simultaneously to establish Seguin as “unique but at the same time typical”—as individual and as representative.