Reconsidering Graphic Novels
A genre that sits well on the shelf between literature and art.
Curated selection of graphic novels for a residential library.
Graphic novels get a bad rap. For some, they still carry a stigma, particularly among adults -- as if their look means they’ll never be highbrow, never be “real reading.” Others see them as little more than repackaged comic books. And, to be fair, some of the best examples of the format are precisely that. Alan Moore’s Watchman and V for Vendetta, Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, and Brian K. Vaughan’s Saga all began life as popular comic book series. Even Art Spiegelman’s Maus -- which arguably is why literary critics gave the format a second look -- was first serialized in Raw, an avante-garde comic anthology journal he founded with his wife.
“Sometimes the most interesting thing about one’s bookshelves isn’t the obvious categories, but the spaces in-between.”
What is often missed is that over the last 30 years, artists have moved beyond the territory of superheroes and fantasy to explore the possibilities of inextricably tying words to two-dimensional images. It is an exciting medium of storytelling, and graphic novels can complement collections of literature, popular fiction, and even history books in a unique way. They’re a relaxing way to read and satisfying in their brevity (even the long ones). They’re a great addition to a library meant to have “something for everyone,” say a vacation home where clients want their guests to be able to find a book. Kids’ and teen graphic novels are a great gateway for reluctant readers and an alternative way to explore non-fiction topics. It’s easy to forget that graphic novels are also art books. For the discerning reader and collector, they can be an edgy addition to the coffee tablescape.
Pictured clockwise: Slash Them All by Antoine Maillard. Threads from the Refugee Crisis by Kate Evans. Piero by Edmond Baudoin. Maus by Art Spiegelman.
Graphic novels exist in every language and cover a variety of genres. Graphic memoirs, for example, have increased in popularity thanks to the success of books like Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi and Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, both of which were released by major publishing houses alongside their more traditionally written and text-based counterparts.
Blutch, the pseudonym of Christian Hinckner, is a legendary French comic artist who works in various mediums. New York Review Comics, an excellent publisher of graphic novels with a literary bent, offers two titles translated into English: Peplum, a story of ancient Rome, and Mitchum, described as a “vision of America.” Another of his books, Jazz (Fantagraphics Books, Inc.), would be a creative addition to a music lover’s collection.
Alpha: Abidjan to Paris by Bessora (author) & Barroux (illustrator), translated by Sarah Ardizzone and published by Bellevue Literary Press; and Threads from the Refugee Crisis by Kate Evans, published by Verso both explore the migrant crisis -- specifically the route taken by African migrants making their way to France. Barroux’s images for Alpha are some of my favorites, with chunky brushwork lines and loose color washes in a constrained color palette. They’re very different from Kate Evan’s tight and scratchy drawings (reminiscent of R. Crumb) and mixed media page layouts in which the panels are framed with bits of lace.
A page from Walk Me to the Corner by Ameli Furmark.
In New Yorker illustrator Richard McGuire’s Here, the setting is also the main character. The artwork is beautiful, but the story is even more so - what happened in a certain room, or on a certain piece of land, five days ago, five years ago, or 25, 75, 200? It’s about history, time, mortality, life. It’s one of Christy’s favorites.
An aspect of graphic novels that I’ve always enjoyed and which doesn’t get enough attention is that they can be collaborative endeavors. A holdover from their roots in comic books, some graphic novels credit different people for the writing, penciling, inking, cover art, and (though less often since the 1990s) lettering. What each person is responsible for is relatively self-explanatory based on the title. A writer provides the text. The penciler determines the panel layout and creates the pencil art based on the writer’s script. The inker then goes over the penciler’s line, but that description is too reductive. Inking is a fascinating and undervalued role since, like a literary translator, an inker has a certain amount of artistic license. Their choice to work with a brush or pen, the different line weights/thicknesses they employ, and even how much black and negative space they choose to fill can make or break a book’s reputation. Some artists, like Alex Ross, askew pencil, pen & ink all together and work in paint. Others use mixed media.
Pictured clockwise: Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. Walk Me to the Corner by Amelia Furmark. One of the Saga series by Brian K. Vaughan. Peplum by Blutch.
A few other titles that break the stereotype:
Piero by the Italian Edmond Baudoin, translated by Matt Madden, another title published by NYR Comics, is the story of two brothers who connect through art, depicted in beautifully expressive brushwork and hand-lettered in English by Dean Sudarsky.
Slash Them All by Antoine Maillard, translated by Jenna Allen (Fantagraphics Books, Inc.), is an homage to the slasher films of the 80s & 90s. Maillard tells the story of a budding serial killer in somber black & gray pencil renderings. The hard edges of shadows define the panels’ borders, creating claustrophobic tension. The storytelling is subtle, trusting the reader’s ability to understand what is left unsaid (and unseen).
Walk Me to the Corner by Ameli Furmark, translated by Hanna Stomberg (Drawn & Quarterly), is filled with soft color washes over charcoal, pencil, and ink drawings. The panels have fluid borders, each sitting like a puddle of paint on the page. The artwork works beautifully with the poignant story of a middle-aged woman who makes the painful decision to leave her husband, family, and comfortable life when she falls in love with another woman.
Fans of the Argentine novelist Julio Cortazar may not be aware that he incorporated a graphic novel into one of his books. Fantomas versus the Multinational Vampires: An Attainable Utopia, translated by David Kurnick and available from the publisher Semiotext(e), features a reproduction of a famous Mexican comic. Fantomas was written by Gonzalo Martre and drawn by Victor Cruz Mota. The series included cameos by real-life people, including Octavio Paz, Susan Sontag & Cortazar himself.
Sometimes the most interesting thing about one’s bookshelves isn’t the obvious categories, but the spaces in-between. Graphic novels span the gap between art books and narrative, connecting storytelling to the visual arts.
Tara Cheesman is a freelance book critic and a National Book Critics Circle member. Her work has appeared in The Los Angeles Review of Books, CrimeReads, Guernica, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, The Mystery Tribune and other online publications. She received her Bachelors of Fine Arts from the School of Visual Arts in New York City.