Comics is a secondary art form. It has undeniable appeal, but relative to that wave of positive feeling a small audience of people willing to buy, buy deep, and buy wide.
Je suis la roller girl, roller girl…
Je suis la fille des bulles
La Lolita des comics
Une des plus dangereuses
Des bandes dessinées
Je suis la roller girl, roller girl…
A graphic novel is more prestigious than a comic book. Comic books are disposable, but people aren’t likely to buy a graphic novel and throw it in the garbage.
I think people are skeptical about experimental stuff like I’m doing, like it’s only a dry experiment with no flesh to it. For me, it’s like building a human body from the skeleton out, and you build the organs and then muscles, with the skin coming on at the end. I have this empty skeleton of a work that I’m trying to fill in.
I don’t think readers should confuse comics and classic literature; the mediums ultimately have each a different purpose (with many exceptions) and comics should never replace books completely in any reader’s catalogue. Ideally both mediums should compliment one another and fuel an overall love for reading.
I love Garfield. I grew up on Garfield; the majority of my attempts at humor are derived from the antics of Garfield. But recently, the comic has become stale. I can no longer open treasured anthologies because the new comics in the paper are essentially the same recycled jokes over and over and over again.
Online, pages get to crackle in a different way. It’s a different medium — it’s a real difference. As the medium evolves as something that’s on my screen, online comics will become as different from comic books as comic strips are to comic books. The rules are different online.
There hasn’t been a more sophisticated comic released in the 25 years since, which I find profoundly depressing, because [Watchmen] was intended to be something that expanded the possibilities of comics rather than what it has apparently become — a massive psychological stumbling block that the rest of the industry has yet to find a way round.
If I did a webcomic, maybe a million people would read it, but the New York Times would never review it. They [webcomics] still don’t have that legitimacy.
Every cartoonist, their cartoons all look a little bit like them, because they spend a lot of time looking in mirrors to get the expressions down.
I write and draw “comics” in an attempt to figure out who I am and what purpose there may be to my existence.
The Spirit was always a kind of template for the mysterious unassailably heroic and noble hero. But he was also kind of goofy and innocent and fallible.
Everybody is becoming [a superhero]. In the past I’ve tried to say, ‘Look, we are all crappy superheroes,’ because personal computers and mobile phone devices are things that only Bat Man and Mr Fantastic would have owned back in the sixties. We’ve all got this immense power and we’re still sat at home watching pornography and buying scratch cards.
Doing comics for fun is all right, but even then, you are creating these things because you want people to read them, and no matter what your intentions, people are going to react. Once a particular work is out there, anyone can chime in and say what they think. You might not think it’s fun anymore when some blog calls your comic book crap. Even if you’re having fun, it’s always best to know what you’re doing and do your best.
The real excitement of making comics is when your artist first turns in those pages and you begin to see your story breathe and take flight. Those are the moments that really get my heart racing. It’s why I do what I do.
I wanted to write comics, I just didn’t know how to go about it. I would go to Comic-Con to try to chat up some of the writers at the show. They were always impressed by the fact that I had written a film and couldn’t understand why I wanted to waste my time writing comics. They tried to talk me out of it. The fact that I loved comics never seemed to move them much. I figured it must be some kind of secret society. I always want to be a member of the club that doesn’t want me. Groucho Marx has been an excellent tutor in that regard.
Fans have been bugging me for years: “Why don’t you do your own comic book?” Easy for them to say! It’s a lot of work.
The thing I love about comic books is that its readers are a community. We all read the same books, everywhere. You can be anywhere and anyone – and comics are welcoming.
Comic books are big business these days. When Hollywood isn’t adapting board games or remaking ’80s films, they often look to the pages of graphic novels and comics for places to throw all that money.
Reading comics should be a social activity. I don’t know why this surprised me, but it did; buying comics is a social activity.
I used to be embarrassed because I was just a comic-book writer while other people were building bridges or going on to medical careers. And then I began to realize: entertainment is one of the most important things in people’s lives. Without it they might go off the deep end. I feel that if you’re able to entertain people, you’re doing a good thing.
Work your fingers to the bone, and then work some more. And, then when you think comics have ruined your life, you’re starting to get it right.
He [Micah Baldwin from Graphic.ly] wants to know “what will be the live music” of the comic book industry, which is a very interesting question for the CEO of a company that sells digital copies of comic books to ask. Digital comics are, after all, the mp3 in this analogy, and it is the physical comic books that are the scarce good that can still be charged for, like music performances.
A natural scientist who had looked over comic books expressed this to me tersely, ‘In comic books life is worth nothing; there is no dignity of a human being’.
Some artists are smarter than their works. Other artists are equally smarter or smarter, but their work is even more intelligent and meaningful than their articulate opinions and observations.
Since “Superman” was created by a couple of Jewish kids from Cleveland, that makes him Jewish. Raised in a small town by a “Goyisha” couple, he probably never knew. Also, they didn’t have a Synagogue in town, so he probably wasn’t Bar-Mitzvah’d. It’s doubtful that he was Circumscised. The foreskin of the superbaby would’ve been impossible to cut! What a mess!
Long form comics are different from strips. If a cartoonist wants their readers to stick with a 60-page story about their Moroccan grandmother’s struggle with Diabetes, they need that reader to lose themselves in the story. That means keeping readers’ eyes on the page. Every time a reader looks away to navigate, they’re leaving the world of the story, and returning to the world of scrollbars and links.
Comics should not be judged by whether or not they successfully stuff a long novel into a comic format (which is surely impossible for many reasons), but by what lens they offer of the original text.
Comics are very expensive these days so I believe we have to pack as much story as possible into the pages.
Too many comic book covers are way too busy, crammed with far too much information, both visual and verbal that just becomes a dull noise.
It’s at the literary end of comics you sense a narrowing of the range, the main strand being a sort of studied Pekarian drabness. You could call it mundane realism. Direct or oblique autobiography is the mode, neurosis and alienation the dominant tone. Their archetypal hero is a morose and ill-socialised writer or collector of comics, often subject to sexual humiliation, sometimes sharing a name with the author.
My generation of cartoonists, we’re not exactly underground. I don’t know what we are. We never had a name, exactly.
An artist cannot afford to “produce a work which conforms only to the creator’s personal aesthetic” if he doesn’t even know how to write or draw properly, or have a grasp of even the most basic of artistic skills necessary to create comics (like anatomy, perspective and storytelling), or can’t even spell properly.
I worked 12 hours a day, seven days a week for years. Being a comic book artist is like sentencing yourself to life imprisonment at hard labor in solitary confinement. I don’t think I’d do it again.
What superhero comics have largely become — in the last 10, 20 years in particular — are sort of like WWF wrestling matches between good guys and bad guys, but the humanity gets lost.