Graphic Novels as Literature.

This is my ACTUAL 4-19-09 Assignment:

Firstly, I’d like to discuss the merit of the graphic novel as a legitimate form of literature. Once again, we see the entrenched snobbery of the previous generation passing judgment on new art forms. As I’ve discussed in my previous blog entries, resistance from the powers-that-be to emergent literary forms is to be as expected as the sunrise. Walt Whitman’s free verse poetry broke too many rules, both in regards to content and form. Mark Twain’s Huck Finn used colloquial language. Edgar Allen Poe’s stories were too dark and bloody. Shakespeare’s plays contained too many elements appealing to the masses, rather than the aristocracy. I have no doubt critics in ancient Greece complained about the plays of Euripedes and Sophocles for many similar reasons. Today the objections to graphic novels can be boiled down to one simplistic and specious argument: “Graphic novels are just comic books – comic books are for kids.”

I judge literature (in its many and varied forms) by one standard, and one standard only: does the literature in question provide insight into humanity, and the human condition? Does it ask the difficult question “What does it mean to be a living human being?”

Many graphic novels do just that. And not only do they address the dilemma of human existence, but they do so in a sophisticated and complex manner. Anyone who suspects that graphic novels must be an easy read (since they contain pictures – picture books are for kids!) needs to pick up Alan Moore’s Watchmen. Even the most sophisticated reader will find a cerebral challenge in the convoluted and interlocking narratives of that particular graphic novel – it is certainly NOT kids’ stuff.

So, to examine the graphic novel – first from English teacher’s and literary critic’s point of view:

The most beneficial aspect of the graphic novel to a high school English teacher is the simplicity of teaching my students about imagery and symbolism. Imagery is a slippery concept for many high school students; unfortunately, especially in more advanced texts, students get so bogged down in simple comprehension of vocabulary, diction, and syntax that the actual image which the author intends is lost. The students, after laborious study, will understand the authorial intent of a passage; however, they lose the visceral experience, the “being there” which draws in more mature readers (and is so very enjoyable to those of us who love to read). Graphic novels, however, depict imagery explicitly. Students do not have to worry about what they are supposed to “see”; instead, they literally see the image, since it is literally rendered. Many critics of graphic novels state that this indicates the oversimplification of the literature – that the content is “dumbed down” for the masses. I, however, respectfully disagree. I posit that the medium for communicating the message is simply different, neither lesser nor greater. A readily apparent image does not in any way lessen the POWER of that image. In fact, the opposite may be true. Would you be more moved by a sunset which was described to you by an articulate friend? Or would you be moved by actually seeing the sunset itself? Perhaps a better analogy for the graphic novel: would you like to see a painting of that sunset, as rendered by a skilled artist? This question is a matter of taste, not value.

Another reason for the inclusion of the graphic novel in an English class is the readily apparent use of symbolism. Art Spiegelman’s classic graphic novel Maus is a perfect example. Spiegelman renders the story of the Holocaust into a graphic novel format, depicting different political and ethnic groups as various animals. Nazis are cats, Jews are mice, and so forth. While this abstract representation of people might not translate well to a traditional novel (or maybe it would – Orwell’s Animal Farm?), this artistic rendition of the characters immediately conveys to the reader the nature of the relationships within the graphic novel. If one of the English teacher’s jobs is to convey the complex idea of symbolism to the novice reader, what is the problem with using a form of literature which makes imagery and symbolism a bit more obvious, a bit less complex? This is not to suggest that the concepts suggested within the symbol are any less complex; on the contrary, the power of the symbol often resonates even more deeply through a visceral, rather than syntactical, depiction of that symbol.