pretension1
[pri-ten-shuh n]
- the laying of a claim to something.
- a claim or title to something.
- Often pretensions. a claim made, especially indirectly or by implication, to some quality, merit, or the like: They laughed at my pretensions to superior judgment.
- a claim to dignity, importance, or merit.
- pretentiousness.
- the act of pretending or alleging.
- an allegation of doubtful veracity.
- a pretext.
pretentious
[pri-ten-shuh s]
- characterized by assumption of dignity or importance, especially when exaggerated or undeserved: a pretentious, self-important waiter.
- making an exaggerated outward show; ostentatious.
- full of pretense or pretension; having no factual basis; false.
(From dictionary.com)
As you know, I've struggled with comics as my medium of choice - mostly due to their perception (yeah yeah, I know...blame sokeyity). I'm not trying to beat a dead horse here, but the public at large, and even most artists, still view comic books as for kids and/or deviants.
A recent conversation I had, with another cartoonist:
"I'd like to pick up a few of your comics."
"Sure! Sounds great..."
"My nephew's really into comics."
(Inward sigh) "Well, most of these are PG-13; Tales to Befuddle has more mature themes..."
"Oh, it's got like...pornography?"
(Larger inward sigh).
My own personal shoulder-chip aside, I do end up feeling really deflated every time I have that conversation. I suppose all artists and writers get that, but comic book creators get it double: not only is your profession "not necessary for society", you're the artistic equivalent of a Birthday Party Clown. "Oh, can you watch my kids for a moment? I have to go close an art deal with Sotheby's. Multi-mega million dollars, you know; can't pass up that opportunity." And while the turtleneck-wearing go-getter drives off in her Subaru, I'm left trying to enthrall twenty first-graders.
In terms of sales, you don't shit on your core demographic (i.e., moms); but it's still difficult not to yell, "I'm a serious artist, dammit! I got shit to say!" No wonder Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman sidled away from comics as soon as they could, making excuses about leaving the iron on before running out the door, jumping in their Bentleys and blasting down the M-80 (or whatever Brits do to escape an awkward conversation); they had the opportunity to go say their shit somewhere else. Collect your check, punch out your card and toodle-oo, off to the glorious literary hinterlands beyond the summer clouds, where you rub elbows with Ernest Hemingway and George Sand and sip Mimosas on the veranda. Meanwhile the rest of us are left to slog onward, erecting mud huts and eating tubers, while trying to fight off hordes of mouth-breathers and scavengers.
Comics is kind of like Detroit: its residents insist it's getting better, while Governor Snyder hands his successor the standing tax write-off on the whole city (probably in the form of a giant novelty check). Forget its storied history, forget its artistic endeavors, forget its proud architecture...this place is known for only one thing, that thing has gone elsewhere, and now the whole shebang is left to rot.
That got dark pretty quick.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that my artistic style may be getting in the way of my literary/artistic pretensions: my characters have a lot of broad expressions, my linework is tight but flowing, I have a flair for the dramatic. In other words, I'm a (gulp) cartoonist. Literary death-warrant sealed. Most of your "serious" graphic novels have very minimalist linework and either subtle expressions, or "symbolic" expressions (i.e. mouth open = excitement (positive or negative), eyebrows up = sympathy/pain/confusion, etc.) - the kind of art that can be easily read into. Cartoonists, on the other hand, like to force their art on their readers, for better or for worse; trying to read a graphic interpretation of Pride and Prejudice with full gestural characters is like trying to explain tax code using a house full of monkeys. At best, it can be rather exhausting for the audience; at worst, a complete mess. And cartoons lend themselves to slapstick, comedy being a much more structured, rehearsed thing than tragedy.
I love me some slapstick. I also love me some heavy emotion. I worry that in trying to convey sadness or darkness in my style, it comes off as a little too Vaudeville, a little too "Hold me, mother! I'll be in heaven soon...!" tug at the heartstrings than real, visceral feeling. I'm not trying to sound coy here, but I do experience very strong emotions, often alarmingly so; I want to express this power in my work without forcing it on the audience or coming off as trite. At the same time I want to tickle the cerebrum of my audience, get them thinking or introduce them to new concepts and ideas; I feel like a lot of the stories I come up with aren't so much "original" as they are viewing an old or common theme from a different angle. In my latest crop of short comic stories, I'm striving to pack as much context and information into the page limit as possible, to tell a very tight, cerebrally-satisfying story even if the outcome leaves the audience emotionally shaken.
I'm also going to admit that I'm like a dog between two crowds in a lot of things, snapping at both and making friends with neither: society's perceptions aside, we comic book creators aren't doing ourselves any favors. I get really fed up with the creators of independent comics, and often I can't figure out why. Maybe it's the insistence on recycling the same "comicky" gestures, themes and techniques: the predominance of super- and/or action heroes, the slavery to nostalgia, the lack of strong characterizations or good writing, the way they seem to shrug when you mention quality - It's just comics. We're here to have fun. We're here to make people happy. Never mind that this has been the drumbeat for the last 80 years, a whole herd of cattle slaughtered to replace the drumhead every time it wore thin. I'd blame this sort of complacent, "We shouldn't aim higher" attitude for the fact that the big mainstream comics are going down the tubes: not so much their blind attachment to characters (which are a dime a dozen, and will port to other mediums as soon as the dollars appear), but their understanding of the capes 'n' tights business as a rag trade, cranking out Product as long as little Timmy has the doubloons to buy it. Independent creators haven't learned that lesson; for the most part they're either enslaved to what they think comics should be, or are simply using the medium as a springboard to something else.
I'm caught in a bind here: I want independent comics creators to follow their dreams; but when they do, what they create is often so dumb. Derivative, boring, flat, completely lacking in any intellectual power, conveying trite messages...it's just more Characters Doing Stuff. CDS, let's call it. CDS is the absolute bottom floor of storytelling: throw in an involved backstory, a contrived conflict, and a cliffhanger each episode, and you'll keep em hooked, regardless of the quality of the storytelling. It's another double standard of comics versus writing, where in comics they say "follow your dreams! It's good that you just did something!" while writing is a wall of broken glass tipped with sneers. I'm not saying we need to make the comic critiquing process as horrific as the one writing has, but some standard would be nice! Call comic creators to task for bad writing and flat artwork, for tired themes and wet messages. So far the biggest critique is the sort of broad cultural analysis of "Are there enough females/minorities/sexualities in comics?" which, while important, isn't necessarily helpful for the creator and their craft. And so we end up with a lot of females/minorities/sexualities involved in blatant CDS, and getting celebrated simply for doing it. You didn't just tie your shoelaces, you tied your rainbow shoelaces! Sit back and rest on your laurels.
I think part of the problem of strong critique in independent comics is that the community is so fragmented. I live in Lansing; there's a whole coterie of independent comic book creators in East Lansing (literally one road over) I barely ever see or talk to, let alone collaborate with. In pools that small, you're careful who you take a bite out of. I see critique as not only helpful but essential to the creative process, but many creators' egos are so shaky to begin with, they can't help but take any critique as a personal attack. I'm lucky to have a creative partner who is rudeness incarnate (just kidding Joe, I love ya...mostly...), unafraid to tell me when I took a shit in the garage. Our standards are extremely high, and knowing what each of us is capable of, we aren't afraid to call each other out. But we wouldn't dare do that to another comic book artist. We nod and smile and point out the competent bits. Because God knows you're gonna run into them again, and once you gain a reputation as an asshole, your talents are pretty quickly forgotten. This really sucks because the benefits of being a part of this "community" are so low to begin with - none of us have any connections, none of us are willing to buy each others' stuff, we all live in far-flung parts of town, and the disparity in the level of ambition and talent means we don't have much to talk about. The above statements are pretty assholeish, I know, but I just feel like somebody has to come out and say it. Without resorting to what I call "Mecca-ism"*, I really do feel that Lansing is a hinterland in terms of independent comics creation. There are people here making comics, but they're extremely isolated, and picking the diamonds out of the rough is awkward and difficult because it's mostly rough.
Like it or not, serious art needs a gatekeeper - a Simon Cowell to tell you, "No no, sorry sweetie, I'm just not feeling it." That is the only way you can gauge the quality of your work (whether you accept, reject, or fight against these gatekeepers is another story). Here in the wild Interior, any Gatekeeper would be tapping their desk with bewildered boredom, so desperate for any artistic display that the moment Joe Comic Maker shuffles in he'll be greeted with confetti and a brass band - regardless of his actual level of talent. Rejection isn't an option simply because there's nobody to reject.
What's my dream for independent comics? Honestly, I'd like there to be some kind of Graphic Review magazine, sort of like a New Yorker for comics (yes I know magazines are going the way of the dodo or whatever digital blah blah blah, just work with me here); only the very best and brightest of comics would get in. There'd be a strong mix of subtle, literary comics with excellent mainstream stuff and way-out-there art comics. The only stipulation on the creator/creative team is that they can't be signed on with a dedicated publisher - essentially the same case as with amateur writers. All teams would retain control of their own work, natch. The point of this magazine would be to encourage artistic and literary exploration in independent comics, setting the bar higher and giving creators/creative teams something to aim for (holy mixed metaphors, Batman...) The point is not to discourage creators, but to encourage them to expand their literary, artistic, and intellectual capacity. And there needs to be literary-style competitions, too, independent of comic conventions or organizations. Cash prizes are a must - you can't expect people to jump through hoops for nothing. I also want comic book scholarships, dammit...the Xeric Foundation led the way, but since its disbanding there really hasn't been anything to replace it (I would like to point out the Will Eisner scholarship, though). Leery as I am of colleges and Universities and their money-sucking parasitism (deep breath, count to ten...), I would still like to see more Sequential Art degree programs on offer, ones that push the literary and artistic aspects of the medium. MSU is a great example of this (bad time for MSU right now, certainly; but I'll point out the good anyway), with Ryan Claytor hosting the MSU Comics Club and the Comics Forum, an amazing free celebration of comics and comic book artists.
From reading this post, you'll probably come away with a less-than-favorable view of how I look at the independent comics scene. I never was a cheerleader. Being critical is easy; finding solutions is hard. At the same time I know we can't move forward as a medium without some serious, soul-searching critique, both of ourselves and others. I'm hoping that my efforts on this front will bring up a new generation of creators willing to break out of the current box and forge ahead.
Rick Out.
*i.e., the notion that, artistically, "Everything is better in (fill in your favorite city)" - you, as an artist, will finally be appreciated here, and everything will be golden nuggets falling out of a unicorn's ass. New York City is one such "Mecca"; Portland, OR is another. Those who move there must a) report back on how wonderful it is, regardless of the reality of no jobs and high rents; and b) eventually move back to their shithole hometown and get a job as a manager at a retail store, while still bragging about the time they lived in _____.
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