Comic Books and the Searc for Respectabiliy
Neil Gaiman - Novelist, screenwriter, journalist, and director- often tells a story that is both amusing and depressing.
He was at a party, he says, that was attended by some of the most powerful people in the publishing industry. Fresh off the success of his hit comic series SANDMAN, Neil was feeling quite comfortable at this affair until a slightly snooty man approached him.
(I am taking a few liberties with the specifics here, since I don't have the original before me. But the essence is the same)
"You, sir," the man said.
"Me, sir?" Neil asked.
"Yes, you, sir. What do you do?"
Feeling quite proud of his work, Neil answered brightly. "Oh, I'm a writer."
"And what do you write?"
"Comics."
At this point, the man sighed and gave a look that silently communicated his desire to run away, far away, out of the city in fact. How dare a comic book writer speak to him!
Out of politeness, the man asked "And what comic do you write?"
"Oh," Neil muttered, sensing his disdain. "Sandman."
At this, the snooty man's eyes grew wide. He leaned over and grabbed NEil by the shoulders. His eyes reflected the kind of zeal and passion that is usually reserved for people like William Shakespeare or Agatha Christie.
"Dear God, man!" Snooty Guy said. "You don't write comics! You write..."
Dramatic pause.
"GRAPHIC NOVELS!"
And with that, the snooty man exemplified everything that is wrong with today's society regarding comic books and, to a greater extent, popular fiction.
It is no secret, now, that I love comic books. I love em. If I could get away with writing comics for a living, I would take that job in a heartbeat. IF I could wallpaper my walls with original sketches by Jack Kirby and Jim Lee, I would. If I could find an irradiated spider I would let myself get bitten. If I could find a vat of chemicals to stand beside while a bolt of lightning hits, I would. If I could find a magic green ring that would take me into space, I would join the Green Lantern Corps without any hesitation.
I love comics.
And yet... for a long time I had to pretend I hated them. For a long time, even if I never did, I had to try to force myself to feel ashamed that I loved them.
For some reason, the greater society looks down on comic books, calling them both trash and useless in he same breath. I've heard some people call them illiterate and unrealistic. I've heard some people say, or imply, that if you like comic books, you're brain will rot.
And while it is true that there are truly awful comics out there, and while it is true that there are some truly awful comic book FANS out there, I believe that comic books get a bad stick from society.
These next few posts will explore these themes, as I just cannot keep silent any more about my views on comics. They deserve more than what they're getting.
As a comic book fan... I deserve more as well.
After all... wasn't it only a few centuries ago that novels were considered illiterate and brain-rotting? Isn't Mark Twain's work filled with characters who can't speak a lick o' proper english?
More to come.
He was at a party, he says, that was attended by some of the most powerful people in the publishing industry. Fresh off the success of his hit comic series SANDMAN, Neil was feeling quite comfortable at this affair until a slightly snooty man approached him.
(I am taking a few liberties with the specifics here, since I don't have the original before me. But the essence is the same)
"You, sir," the man said.
"Me, sir?" Neil asked.
"Yes, you, sir. What do you do?"
Feeling quite proud of his work, Neil answered brightly. "Oh, I'm a writer."
"And what do you write?"
"Comics."
At this point, the man sighed and gave a look that silently communicated his desire to run away, far away, out of the city in fact. How dare a comic book writer speak to him!
Out of politeness, the man asked "And what comic do you write?"
"Oh," Neil muttered, sensing his disdain. "Sandman."
At this, the snooty man's eyes grew wide. He leaned over and grabbed NEil by the shoulders. His eyes reflected the kind of zeal and passion that is usually reserved for people like William Shakespeare or Agatha Christie.
"Dear God, man!" Snooty Guy said. "You don't write comics! You write..."
Dramatic pause.
"GRAPHIC NOVELS!"
And with that, the snooty man exemplified everything that is wrong with today's society regarding comic books and, to a greater extent, popular fiction.
It is no secret, now, that I love comic books. I love em. If I could get away with writing comics for a living, I would take that job in a heartbeat. IF I could wallpaper my walls with original sketches by Jack Kirby and Jim Lee, I would. If I could find an irradiated spider I would let myself get bitten. If I could find a vat of chemicals to stand beside while a bolt of lightning hits, I would. If I could find a magic green ring that would take me into space, I would join the Green Lantern Corps without any hesitation.
I love comics.
And yet... for a long time I had to pretend I hated them. For a long time, even if I never did, I had to try to force myself to feel ashamed that I loved them.
For some reason, the greater society looks down on comic books, calling them both trash and useless in he same breath. I've heard some people call them illiterate and unrealistic. I've heard some people say, or imply, that if you like comic books, you're brain will rot.
And while it is true that there are truly awful comics out there, and while it is true that there are some truly awful comic book FANS out there, I believe that comic books get a bad stick from society.
These next few posts will explore these themes, as I just cannot keep silent any more about my views on comics. They deserve more than what they're getting.
As a comic book fan... I deserve more as well.
After all... wasn't it only a few centuries ago that novels were considered illiterate and brain-rotting? Isn't Mark Twain's work filled with characters who can't speak a lick o' proper english?
More to come.