Thursday, October 15, 2009

Black & White or White & Black?

Discussing Epileptic by David B.

 I really enjoyed our in-class writing exercise, so this I thought I'd reconfigure it to fit our blog posting format.


 In the bottom three panels of page 143 in David B.'s Epileptic, the majority of its artwork is drawn with white lines on a black background, giving it a "photo negative" quality and contrasting the way the rest of the book is drawn with black lines on a white background. Why? What meaning does this change in visual composition have?

Page 142 in 'Epileptic' In the first panel, David B. depicts Jean-Christophe in the same "photo negative" style he uses to draw the various monsters and demons, specifically the epileptic disease monster. In the following panel, his brother is transformed into the epileptic monster, until in the last panel where he crawls up his metaphorical individual case of epilepsy and away. I think this signifies Jean-Christophe's being completely consumed bu the disease, essentially becoming it, after he has decided to give up trying to fit in with everyone else in the "normal" world and use his affliction as an excuse to continue living his life without responsibilities, as was his wont.

 Also pictured in each of these panels is David B.'s younger self. However, as you can see in the above image, he is drawn with black lines on white style as has been standard for all living people throughout the rest of the novel. What is the purpose of this contrast within the panels?

 The purpose of the contrast is to create the collective effect of a feeling of alienation; Jean-Christophe is no longer in a world familiar to the narrator. By drawing himself in a contrasting style to the rest of the panels, he solidifies his place outside the dark, negative-image world of disease and death. This also engages with the plot through providing a visualization of just exactly what it means for Jean-Christophe to have chosen to attend the handicapped school, and its relation to the narrator individually and the world he inhabits.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

An Endless Vendetta

Discussing Alan Moore's V for Vendetta and
Neil Gaiman's The Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes

 There's something I realized after finishing The Sandman, throughout the novel (with the exception of the last story) Morpheus (a.k.a. Dream or Sandman) has a series of personal vendettas which he attends to, reminiscent of V's ongoing vendetta against the English fascist government. Both man and endless have wrongs that they feel they must make right.

 But what of each vendetta's varying significance? Looking at both vendettas on a black-and-white definitive level, it would appear that V's vendetta is far more significant than the Sandman's personal quests for revenge. Next to V's self-appointed task of freeing all of England from a corrupt fascist government, Dream's vendetta seems almost petty in comparison.

 Yet, what if the reader looks at each situation deeper (which they should be doing already anyway)? Taking all aspects into consideration, one could argue that resolving Dream's conflicts is of far greater importance than the individual rights of English citizens. If Morpheus were to fail, the well-being of every living being on the planet would be compromised.

 On the other hand, if V failed, sure, it would be detrimental to the inalienable rights of certain individuals, but that's just it; it would be bad for only a few individuals. Say for the sake of speculation Evey didn't figure out that V was passing the torch to her. The mass majority of life on the planet would still survive, and England would most likely continue on until perhaps another brave soul took up the liberator's mantle.

 But if Morpheus failed? Well, the effects of failing to recover the sand pouch would be minor. Rachel and maybe a few others would perish in a horribly painful manner. And the helm? Being that it wasn't even in the mortal realm, I doubt much, if any, harm would come from that. However, if the ruby was kept intact and in the hands of John Dee... Yeah, we'd all be screwed in any and every conceivable manner. But I digress.


 Another small similarity between the two texts that I noticed was the use of masks. In V for Vendetta, there is V's Guy Fawkes mask, and in The Sandman there is Morpheus's helm. Are the masks essential to their respective plot lines, or are they completely superfluous?

 V's mask, I believe, is not (and I'm sure many would agree). The Guy Fawkes mask is not only used as an important device in both keeping his personal identity largely unknown and allowing his role as society's catalyst to continue on after his death, but also serves as a symbol to represent cause.

 Dream's helm, not so much. Sure, it's a useful plot device in rounding out Dream's task of returning his kingdom and himself to their former status and glory, but if it were to be taken out of the story all together, not much would change (other than making the story arc just that much shorter).

 Are the masks comparable? Not in any way more complex that simply stating "Oh, the protagonists in both V for Vendetta and Sandman each have a mask." And one of them barely even wears his.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

On Maus and White

W.I.P. Having issues with wrapping my mind around White's message...

From Disney's 'Ratatouille'From Spiegelman's 'Maus I'

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Post on McCloud's book

What is "the gutter?" According to Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, "the gutter" is defined as the space between two comic panels. It is also, however, more than merely a small white (or black, or any other color, I suppose) strip of space used to denote separation between two boxes. "The gutter" is the place where our imagination subconsciously kicks in.


Unlike animation, which supplies every second of action or detail in a sequence, printed comics need to have a gap, for several reasons, one being the need to use limited space practically and another simply being the need for all panels to be somewhat interesting or relevant in order to keep the reader's interest. As Understanding Comics points out, there are several types of sequencing to span the ever-necessary "gutter," each requiring something from the reader's imagination. It could be as simple as the action between an eye being open and then shut (or vice versa), or it could be as complicated as coming up with a reason why we just went from a picture of a walrus on an ice shelf to the picture of a drunk couple engaging in a sloppy New Year's kiss.


That use of imagination is what makes a comic the halfway mark between a traditional novel to an animated feature. Just like when reading a novel, reading a comic produces an ongoing sequence in the mind's eye, which for people who think in purely in pictures would most likely be on par with an animated cartoon. On the other hand, however, a comic, like an animation, provides visual description for the viewer/reader, something a novel requires the reader to conjure up on their own.

"Spectacular" Society





The reigning economic system is a vicious circle of isolation. Its technologies are based on isolation, and they contribute to that same isolation. From automobiles to television, the goods that the spectacular system chooses to produce also serve it as weapons for constantly reinforcing the conditions that engender “lonely crowds.” With ever-increasing concreteness the spectacle recreates its own presuppositions.


The best way I can think of summarizing this aphorism is "being alone in a crowd."

[nowhere near finished...]