WATCHMEN TRAILER MARCH 2009 OMG PONIES

Watch it in HD over at Apple Trailers.

DC Comics released Final Crisis #1 last week, its latest continuation of the past year’s bid to completely ruin the franchise by chronicling the “epic” threat to the Multiverse, boring story after boring story. In Final Crisis, writer Grant Morrison has a throwaway line I was willing to ignore at the time (read: skipped reading it because of its absurdity), until Lev Grossman geeked out over it.

The setup is that a couple of Green Lanterns get summoned to a crime scene, some superbeing’s corpse that turned up in a dumpster. Morrison plays it noir — the Lanterns jaw at each other like beat cops. The crime is a 1011: deicide. The victim: Orion, the soldier god of New Genesis. “A-number one, cosmic hard-ass.”

The guy from the head office back on Oa weighs in: “Seal the crime scene out to the planet’s Lagrange point. No one must enter or leave the gravity well.”

Sure, I’ll keep reading that.

Lagrange point??? Gravity well? What are these awesome bits of astrophysics jargon? I bet the Lanterns have to seal off, like, a basjisoegjillion miles of space, from here to the next frikkin galaxy.

Oh, wait, the jargon is useless? Yeahbuhwhat?

The Lagrangian point(s) “are the five positions in an orbital configuration where a small object affected only by gravity can theoretically be stationary relative to two larger objects.” So what’s that mean for Final Crisis? Short story: absolutely nothing. Without saying what the two larger objects are, Morrison is just spewing bullshit.

And Earth’s gravity well? That is more-or-less the gravity field around Earth, which is not very big. The corps is effectively sealing off Earth and a little bit of empty space around it.

Astounding!

Top Shelf 2.0 - new webcomics initiative from Chris Staros and all the cool people at Top Shelf. There is a good batch of comics up right now (read: Leaning Rabbit, Love Puppets pt. 1, etc.), and more on the way every day, Monday to Friday.

Oh, and be sure to set aside extra time on Thursdays:

Thursday will be Archive Spotlight Day — each week, we’ll pick a great story from Top Shelf’s library of previous webcomics, polish it off, and give it a new chance to shine in front of you guys.

I do not know the inspiration behind this, but I can see Top Shelf wanting to throw a spotlight on the creators outside the graphic novel game. Top Shelf gets a ton more traffic, the creators get eye balls ogling their work, and fans get a great collection of new webcomics. Either way, free comics are always great, and, well, Top Shelf has always held a warm place in my heart, so I wish them the best of luck on this.

(thx to activate)

New Dark Knight trailer:

http://garfieldminusgarfield.tumblr.com/

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life?

Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness and methamphetamine addiction in a quiet American suburb.

Truth and Beauty Bombs forum had a more conservative idea while back: keep Garfield but remove all of his word balloons. Arbuckle does similarly, replacing Garfield with a normal, non-talking house cat. Or creative types can use the NIH-funded Garfield Comic Creator and make your own Garfield strips. In the end, though, can you ever go too far?

Similarly:

• Garfield minus Garfield with Garfield
• October 23, 1989 - Garfield awakes from his usual nap in a bleak future where Jon and Odie have vanished and his home has been abandoned.
• The Nietzsche Family Circus - Family Circus strips with text replaced by Nietzsche quotes

Spider-Man and Mary Jane are no longer married (or even friends) because he gave it all up so Mephisto would save his aunt’s life. And by “gave it all up” I mean agreed to have Mephisto change the memories of everyone remotely affected by the two being married. And bring some people back from the dead. And so on.

Yeahbuwhat?

I am dumbstruck. Speechless. I have only just now gathered the strength needed to relay the horrendous news. This means nothing for the 100% of you that are not comic nerds fans, but still. The “plot twist” makes no sense, as is likely to happen when you do something horribly misguided that can only be explained away by magic.

Or, as regular Spider-Man scribe J. Michael Straczynski puts it:

Me: “How do you explain that?”

Quesada: “It’s magic, we don’t have to explain it.”

And that’s the part I had a real problem with, maybe the single biggest problem. There’s this notion that magic fixes everything. It doesn’t. “It’s magic, we don’t have to explain it.” Well, actually, yes, you do. Magic has to have rules. And this is clearly not just a case of one spell making everybody forget he’s Spidey…suddenly you’re bringing back the dead, undoing wounds, erasing records, reinstating web shooters, on and on and on.

Anyone interested can also read a series of interviews with (quoted above) Marvel Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada (1, 2, 3, 4, 5).

This post’s title draws from the seminal work of Walter Benjamin: The Work of Art in the Age of its Mechanical Reproducibility. In no way do I mean to put forth anything approaching the deeply insightful and influential arguments made in The Work of Art, but I want to reference Benjamin’s basic assertion. The essence of the treatise is that the ability to mass produce art has profoundly changed the art itself. He delves much deeper, but I think this general idea is relevant. We are approaching a time when reproducibility is going to change yet again. Really, as far as software goes, we’ve reached that point (the Internet), but the hardware (e-book readers, etc.) still needs to catch-up in order for this change to spill from the “virtual” world to the “real” world.

I do not mean to exaggerate here, and I recognize just how momentous was the move from absolutely unique (e.g., painting) to mass reproduced (e.g., film), but the near-future of entirely digitized media strikes me as equally transformational.

So, of course, let’s consider this in the context of comic books.

Warren Ellis (see: wiki, site) recently opened a new forum, ostensibly as a “community system behind the webcomic“, but really just a message board dedicated to anything you want (just Don’t Be An Arsehole). Whitechapel merges Ellis’ previous creations The Engine (comics, comics, comics) and Die Puny Humans (future/tech/culture), resulting in something much more open welcoming (just in case you aren’t so interested in comic books). Of course, with (1) the Kindle making waves (here and here), and (2) the crowd of comic nerds that follows invariably that lovable Brit anywhere he goes, there was bound to be a long discussion of downloading comics and the digital future of comics.

Books (comic or otherwise) receive special privilege in the digital future dilemma, most visibly because the form of a book is so intertwined with the content it holds within. Comic books are especially troublesome creatures, given how engrained the idea of collecting and hording has become. However, even comic book publishers are bound to be feeling the push (or, more realistically, the kick in the ass) toward better utilization of the Internet and digital technologies in general. Why? Comic scans.

Motivated by nothing but self-satisfaction, groups of avid comic lovers spend their weeks hunched over a scanner, transferring page after page to their computers. A large community (more like chaotic mess) of comic downloaders has grown, and the comic scanning community with them, such that any comic from the Big 3 (Marvel, DC, Image) is available for free online within the week. (Indie comics are much more difficult to find.) Spurred on by cost and convenience, this phenomena should be a pressing concern to an industry historically know to be in a constant struggle to survive.

Comics differ from other books in that they can currently only be read in digital format on a computer. There is no commercial electronic paper device that supports color (though color e-ink is not far off). Nonetheless, while no one wants to read an entire novel on their computer, spending ten or fifteen minutes reading a comic is no problem.

So how should comic publishers respond? At the very least, publishers should begin to offer free previews of series, whether that be in the form of a free download of the entire first issue or a substantial number of preview pages. This would appease readers who download so as to not waste money on bad comics (which are all too common). From there, a streamlined (a la iTunes) e-commerce system should be developed. Print comics subsist on advertising, and digital comics could live similarly (either as ads within the comics or within the program). Pricing here can be anything, from $1.50 to the usual $2.99, but the less the better if publishers want to reach readers who download because of the price. Even better might be a subscription-based service, with a fixed price per month for unlimited comics.

Obviously, incentives are necessary, both to provide a worthwhile alternative to freeloading as well as justifying payment for a digital version of a very non-digital medium. The reduced price (feasible because of no overhead from printing or distribution) is a start, but publishers should expand their offerings. Digital-only content, such as interviews or scripts or sketches or even free downloads of less popular comics (subscribers might not be so swayed by this last one), would go a long way to securing the success of the service.

And, of course, like any good e-commerce system, this so-called iComics service should be as much one-stop-shopping as possible. Consequently, the service is likely to come from a third-party rather than any of the publishers themselves (unless some miraculous alliance occurs) . Either way, comics from Marvel, DC, Image, Avatar, First Second, Oni, Top Shelf (and so on and so on!) need to be available. Pricing is complicated by this all-inclusivity (indie publishers tend to put out “graphic novels” rather than single issues), but the service fails before it even begins unless it has the backing of the industry. Cost out of the way, a service that has the inconvenience of only offering a small smattering of comics is doomed.

(I’ve said this before, but despite its flaws, the Kindle will be immensely popular (at least relatively) because of how easy it is to both read AND get books. Similarly, iTunes Music Store and Netflix are popular for the same reason.)

All that’s needed on top of this is a way to not leave local comic shops in the dust.

I have only one question for you: You gonna light that pipe?

Design Observer has a slideshow of Tom Manning’s spam cartoons, short strips inspired by (and consisting of) the text from spam mail. Turning spam subject lines into comic strips is nothing new, but Manning’s art is the only I know that uses the whole shebang. The work is some beautiful stuff.

Joseph Sullivan of The Book Design Review has released his 2007 list of favorite book covers. There is still time in 2007 for new releases, but even if one or two more greatly designed books are released, the list remains a nice bit of eye-candy. For even more book cover design, see Fwis.com’s frequently updated Covers

I will admit that xkcd can sometimes be…a bit much, and the latest strip is definitely one of those times, but may I present to you 1337: Part 3, in which we learn of how super-hacker Elaine “helped start a movement among teen girls, a culture of self-taught female programmers and musicians, coding by day and rocking out by night — Riot Prrl.”

Italian Spiderman - “Shut your mouth, pussycat, and find me a macchiato, pronto.”

Somehow, even with all the publicity surrounding how frequently employers use Facebook to check on employees, some people still post Halloween party pictures after requesting off from work for a family emergency. (Cool wand.)

Oobject.com is like a “Billboard charts for gadgets”, with top whatever (10, 15, 20, 22, etc.) lists of a variety of different gadgets. Sometimes mundane (mobile media devices), sometimes stunning (*cough* ray guns), but always fun (time machines).

If you find yourself alone in the woods with nothing but an onion, some Gatorade, and a dead iPod, don’t worry. Household Hacker has you covered in this week’s episode: How to charge an iPod using electrolytes. Then again, maybe you’re more interested in creating a speaker for under $1 out of a paper plate, aluminum foil, and a penny.

See For Yourself is an online gallery of perceptual illusions provided by Duke University’s Purves Lab. The site is so well done that, honestly, it makes me want to do research there.

If comic books find their magic between in the gutters between panels, then I bow down before the great magus team of Joss Whedon and John Cassaday. I cannot praise enough what they have done with Astonishing X-Men. Whedon has imbued the all-but-staid franchise with a depth of character you would never expect outside of indie comics, and Cassaday’s sandy artwork squeezes every bit of grit and emotion from the team, all while firmly holding onto every bit of action possible. The book has long been my favorite ongoing series, and issue 23 shows that love is much deserved.

After battling the forces of the alien despot Kruun, issue #22 ended with the death of Cyclops. Coming off that climactic end, the (deliberately) slow beginning of issue #23 is disconcerting. In essence, Whedon cuts from a bloody, chaotic war scene in which the main character dies, to a quiet building a world away. Cyclops has just died. We want to see the X-Men rushing into battle, avenging the death of their courageous leader, not two aliens calmly discussing the war. We know implicitly that the X-Men will eventually return to battle, but Whedon is not going to quickly confirm this. The long (not until page 7) wait builds our anticipation above boiling.

Also in this beginning do we see another bit of genius. The rebel aliens discuss the death of Cyclops (though they only have enough information to say “one of them is dead”) amidst a mausoleum of similarly anonymous dead. Breakworld is at war, and like any war, choosing a side is never black and white. Time and again, allusions are made to the fact that the X-Men’s involvement in the conflict ultimately renders them a nameless band of soldiers on a very faraway planet.

At this point, I would normally expound upon my vague opening statement. Whedon and Cassaday exquisitely utilize the space between panels and pages? How? when? Where? Unfortunately, the answer to these questions would spoil the issue. Even defending my lack of elucidation might spoil the issue. Such quagmires us noble reviewers must face! I will get to the point eventually, though not before trying a few detours, but first:

The following paragraphs get a big ol’ SPOILER ALERT:

So if you haven’t read the issue, go read it, scream a bit in ecstacy, then come back

Besides the great artwork and writing, the series is also known for its horribly long delays between issues. With issue #23, it seems like Whedon has come to terms with this and written accordingly. Though the pacing of the issue’s opening works well enough on its own, its effect is greatly increased by the time between issues #22 and #23. The death of Cyclops has, by the time we open the issue, faded to the backs of our minds. Whedon’s opening most obviously works to ease us back into the story, but it also works to ensure our readjustment is as slow as he wants it. When we see Cyclops captured and brought back to life by the aliens, we are genuinely surprised (even if the comic nerd in all of us saw it inevitably coming).

The newly revitalized Cyclops ends the issue calling his teammates to him with a rallying cry of “Let’s finish this!” A bit over the top, maybe, but we can’t help but smile as the good guys are finally on the offensive. But what, exactly, are the X-Men going to finish? At first, we were led to believe the prophecy of Colossus destroying Breakworld was false, but every piece of information Whedon has given us since points to it being true. Although this ostensibly seems like a good idea (kill those evil bastards), can we really cheer for the X-Men? For the mass murder of an entire World? Issue #23 was all about the action, but I definitely see Whedon returning to this problem in the upcoming finale.

Inevitably though, beyond whatever Whedon and Cassaday accomplish on paper, it is what lies between papers that really holds the issue’s verve. Every turn of the page becomes a little surprise, quickening our heart rate just enough so that by the time Cyclops unleashes his optic blast, our fragile hearts do not collapse under the shock and awe. More than just asking us to fill in the moments between panels, Whedon and Cassaday guide us between the very pages. Indeed, the quick jumps (most of the issue is progresses as a two-page scene, then cut to a new scene for two pages, and so on) force us to relinquish our expectations and fall on the creative team for guidance. Again, it is not only the content that sets Astonishing X-Men apart in my mind, but the form as well.

I hate to appropriate the language of film, but it is hard to describe Astonishing X-Men without phrases like “sound bridge”, “audio match”, “180 degree line”, “shot/reverse shot” and so on. In other words, Astonishing is highly cinematic. Not so much as the action romp that was Millar’s The Authority, but still strongly utilizing cinematic techniques. Of course, this is nothing groundbreaking, nor is it surprising considering comic books ask readers to imagine a lot of motion (and render panels accordingly). But Astonishing is also all comic book. Some convenient language is useful now and then, but I don’t ever want to obscure the fact that moments like Cyclops revealing he has his powers and blasting through the entire enemy complex in two impressive two-page spreads…moments like that succeed with absolute perfection only in comic books. So if ever you are forced to prove that “graphic novels” is a unique genre, capable of portraying a moment unlike any other medium, simply hand this comic over.

Just one more comics post, promise. Then it’s back to the regularly scheduled programming of sex, drugs, and cocoa puffs. (At least until the next comics post.)

A few weeks ago, Heidi MacDonald (of the PublishersWeekly comic blog The Beat) posted a half review/half commentary dealing with The Best American Comics 2007. One hundred comments and a few days later, she responded to the controversy her post had spawned. Hardly wanting to admit any fault, she quickly reveals that any vagueness was on purpose; a product of her writing style and a means to “inspire debate” (and debate they did). Just like my short digression was on purpose; a means of allowing me to say her dodging any blame was a motherfucking cop-out. But I digress.

Nevertheless, her follow-up post responded to a few comments, and presented a more focused account of her opinion:

What I don’t like is the trend of valuing expressionism, formalism and “comica vérité” for their own sake at the expense of what I would call “mainstream fiction”, or formally conventional but narratively complex stories such as Love & Rockets, Exit Wounds, Ode to Kirihito, Ice Haven (Shock!!) or American Born Chinese.

As much as I may disagree with how MacDonald originally outlined this opinion, or dealt with the responses, it is hard to find anything to argue with the above summary on its own. She sees “comica vérité” (a wonderful term, in the vein of cinéma vérité, coined to describe autobiographical or similar comics) stealing the spotlight, and maybe even the whole stage, and worries about the future of more conventional fiction. This trend is certainly extant in the indie comic world, at least as far as mainstream media like The New York Times or HoughtonMifflin are concerned.

It is this preoccupation with the “face” of comics which I find worthy of criticism. As Steven Hirsch mentions in a comment on the original post:

By reacting to the book the way she does, Heidi implies that it’s canonical and gives it some authority that it doesn’t and shouldn’t have. I see comics as an art form refreshingly free of any rigid canon, and would like to see it remain that way.

We the masses of comic lovers may applaud (or bemoan) on a daily basis the thrusting of comics into the mainstream, but we don’t really care that much. A warm smile may come over our faces when we read the latest issue of The New York Times Magazine, or see a familiar comic in this year’s The Best American Comics, but afterwards we’ll go on enjoying our Batman and Groo just the same. Does it really matter what Chris Ware deems the year’s best comics? Are we really so self-conscious?

To answer the first, yes and no. The narrowing range of what comics we can respectfully call “graphic novels” in conversation with friends and family is unlikely to have any direct effect of any significance. It may be a long time before Bone is taught alongside Maus, but that doesn’t reflect on the greatness of Jeff Smiths’ masterpiece. (And it is great. And Neil Gaiman is writing an essay on it. And I am so excited!) It does, however, reflect on the mainstream perception of comic books, and consequently influences any converts to the comics community. If the community is going to fully push the boundaries of the medium, it needs to present an honest view of itself and attract a new generation of both creators and readers.

No matter how long the media continues to pigeonholes comica vérité as the medium’s lord and savior, there are so many genres that are worth reading. The community deserves a Best American Comics 2008 that acknowledges this.

Before I forget, Zuda Comics launched.

Todd Allen over at CBR laments the use of established creators in contrast to the site’s initial press release:

First off, the vast majority of the creators here have already done print comics. Multiple print comics for the most part, and the majority go back a few years. This does not look like ushering in a new generation, at first glance.

This “new generation” business is pulled directly from the press release:

“There is an explosion of creativity in web comics,” said Paul Levitz, DC Comics President & Publisher. “We want to build a great stage for this new generation of creators to perform on, a solid system for their work to reach audiences online and in print, and for the creators to share in the profits their creations can generate. In this time of rapid technological and cultural change, DC wants to be a good publisher for the evolving and growing community of online comic creators, so that we can be their partner for showcasing new kinds of works to entertain future generations.”

Levitz clearly states the site’s intent. It is to be the home for a “growing community of online comic creators”, providing “a great stage for this new generation of creators to perform on”. Nowhere in the press release is there mentioned the inclusion of established print creators. Certainly they can submit their work right alongside the “online comic creators”, but they won’t be granted any special status. The end result, you might think having read only the press release, is a site filled largely with content from new creators, and maybe a bit from a few established creators.

Instead, Zuda launches with 11 comics from 14 creators (writers or artists), only two or three of which have not been previously published in print. Where is the new generation of online comic creators?

My guess is that, for whatever reason, usable submissions were too low, forcing DC to branch out and contact practically unknowns (as they did for Jeremy Love’s “Bayou”). Following this reasoning, now that the site is up and running, submissions should increase and the next round of comics should have a much higher pull from the new generation. If questioned, I am sure DC will be quick to point to those big letters B, E, T, and A next to zudacomics.com*, and use this same argument to say the is still coming into its own. Everything will be worked out once the site moves from beta to gamma, I’m sure.

*A website should never be labeled “beta”. Applied to web design, the term is either entirely meaningless or, worse yet, evidence of the design team’s reluctance to test the site before publishing it. If a site is live, it should be ready to go, and glitches should be one in a million; this isn’t a complex software program with thousands of lines of code. Let’s leave the release cycles to software.

This week on kottke.org, the reigns have been passed over to writer Joel Turnipseed. Some quick posts have kept to the kottke.org style, but Turnipseed’s claim to fame is his week’s worth of interviews. Jessica Hagy, Douglas Wolk, and Ted Genoways are all done, but even more are on the way.

I found the Douglas Wolk interview most interesting so far, understandably. Wolk is the author of Reading Comics, which is probably the best book on the medium since Understanding Comics (though that might not be saying much considering the dearth of books on the topic). The interview, at least, is a must read, and covers many of the points in Reading Comics.

Turnipseed ends the interview on the topic of webcomics:

JT: Given the fanatical culture of comics, it seems natural that there are a ton of comics blogs (and that a lot of comics artists would have blogs), but the comic and the graphic novel don’t really work as an online medium, do they? Is this a fundamental nature of the beast? Or are there people out there making it work?

To which Wolk responds:

DW: Scott McCloud’s whole thing about the limitless potential of online comics hasn’t quite been borne out yet, but it’s still a very new medium. I agree that the Times’s PDFs are a dreadful idea, but there are a lot of Web-comics that have enormous readerships; it seems, in general, like daily humor strips are the format that work best so far. I love Achewood and Diesel Sweeties, in particular; as far as non-humor strips go, Dicebox is pretty wonderful. The real problem is that there’s presently no way for a cartoonist to make any money at all, let alone make a living, doing online comics (that whole “micropayment” thing seems to have fizzled); the few people whose sole employment seems to be doing them are actually making their money selling related merchandise. Is this an insurmountable problem? Probably not — but nobody’s sure how to fix it yet. At least people doing print comics have a tangible object that can be exchanged for money.

As Turnipseed and Wolk mention, simply scanning in a print page and posting it online does not work. But this is hardly news. This approach fails for all the reasons we don’t see any magazine or newspaper scanning its pages and posting the JPEGs. To answer Turnipseed, this disconnect is a fundamental nature of the beast, but no less is it a fundamental nature of other print media. Where comics differ is that you cannot tease apart their text and images to fit a layout the way you can other print content. Strips (the generic webcomic format) fit a bit better on the screen, but this just seems like an inability to think outside the box. As I mention below, I think comics can (and will) succeed on the web, and can even evolve if creators utilize the technology.

Wolk also discusses the economic feasibility of webcomics. Below is my response to this discussion. It is added as a comment underneath the interview, and since all comments are copyright the author, here it is for all of you Creative Commons lovers:

Is the current webcomic business model really a problem? Perhaps in the future some source of income unique to webcomics will be thought of, but right now the shared source of income (advertising, merchandising, maybe subscription) between webcomics and other online media (blogs, newspapers, etc.) seems sufficient. In this light, webcomics are just another type of content, like world news or (appropriately) interesting links.

The only problem I can think of is if this business model is failing for webcomics. Wikipedia has a list of self-sufficient webcomics that seems strikingly short. There are tens of thousands of webcomics being published, but only a handful are self-sufficient? My first impulse, however, is to wonder how this ratio compares to the print world, or to the blog world. (Also, as a side note, this whole advertising/merchandising thing feels like the print world’s rules bleeding onto the internet; it feels wrong.)

If the sources of income are so insubstantial that, for an overwhelming majority of creators, they are barring entry to the realm of self-sufficiency, then there’s a problem. If the number of self-sufficient web creators parallels the number of self-sufficient print creators, then there might still be a problem, but definitely less of one. Either way, I absolutely agree “the limitless potential of online comics hasn’t quite been borne out yet.” Various experimental webcomics have utilized to a small degree the way browsers display pages and people read online, but otherwise the status quo is print comic slapped onto a screen. A focus on exploiting the technology could distance the medium from its print brethren, and open new avenues of revenue.

Back in 1990, Scott McCloud (author of Understanding Comics, etc.) came up with the idea of a 24-hour comic. This comic would be a complete 24-page comic created in only 24 consecutive hours by a single artist. A comic usually develops to completion over the course of weeks, so you can see how this is quite the challenge. Since then, thousands of 24-hour comics have been created, most notably “the original six”: Scott McCloud, Steve Bissette, Dave Sim, Rick Veitch, Neil Gaiman, and Kevin Eastman).

April 24th, 2004 saw the creation of 24 Hour Comics Day, a worldwide event version of McCloud’s idea. Over 500 cartoonists met in 57 locations for the 2004 event, and the numbers have increased dramatically over the years. This year, 93 events are scheduled in 18 countries. 31 different US states are covered, so definitely check out the locations page to see if there is one in your area.

Interestingly, the demographics closely follow the indie comic world. I say interestingly only because mainstream comics is all superheroes all the time, so I was surprised to see creators naturally gravitating toward humor and autobiography. Also (pleasantly!) surprising: the event draws “a real mix of male and female participants”. Whether this is evidence that women have been historically underrepresented in the comics industry, or if this is showing a recent surge in interest among women, I don’t know. Either way, it is nice to see clear evidence that the stereotypical view of comic lovers as geeky males is increasingly losing accuracy.

PBS television program P.O.V. has an online special feature to go with their episode “Tintin and I”, which looked at the life and work of Tintin’s creator, Hergé. The feature is a collection of interviews of six contemporary comic artists, most notably Chris Ware and Daniel Clowes (as well as Jessica Abel, Phoebe Gloeckner, Jason Lutes, and Seth).

The interviews are hit or miss (e.g., questions are rehashed from interview to interview, and answers are sometimes even shorter than the questions), but when they hit, they hit. The questions are, if redundant, very sharp, and the interviewees are some of the best artists to have for the feature. Insightful responses reign, dealing with both comics as a medium, and with the interviewees’ own experiences.

From Chris Ware’s interview:

I figured out this way of working by learning from and looking at artists I admired and whom I thought came closest to getting at what seemed to me to be the “essence” of comics, which is fundamentally the weird process of reading pictures, not just looking at them.

Again from Chris Ware:

If I could, I would like to mention here that comics are NOT illustration, any more than fiction is copywriting. Illustration is essentially the application of artistic technique or style to suit a commercial or ancillary purpose; not that cartooning can’t be this (see any restaurant giveaway comic book or superhero media property as an example), but comics written and produced by a cartoonist sitting alone by him- or herself are not illustrations. They don’t illustrate anything at all, they literally tell a story.

A common theme throughout the interviews is the sense that comics are finally reaching a point of acceptance and respect. None of the interviewees discuss an exact cause for this, but I think it has to do with, as Ware puts it, “because a generation who grew up reading them has, well, grown up.” He mentions this as the reason comic movies have been so common recently, but it almost certainly relates to the “growing up” of the medium as a whole. As the medium’s audience has matured, so too has the medium itself.

Nonetheless, although more widely accepted than ever before, comics are still progressing forward to reach respected status. It is a good time indeed, but work still exists to be done, and some creators are cautious.

From Jessica Abel’s interview:

And why does the need to explain comics still exist? Because [the prejudice that comics are specifically for children, and brain-rotting to boot,] still exists. It’s fading, but it’s still very strong. It’s important to keep pushing the boundaries of what people know comics to be so that they are receptive to the whole world of comics, not just one or two genres of work.

All in all, the feature is a great set of interviews. Read the damn things.