Book Review: Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud

In the past, my book reviews have been pretty short. That is partially because I don't want to "give away" too much about the books. But, I'm also kind of picky about what I read and I have no trouble putting down a book if I don't like it. The fact that I finish a book is indicative that I enjoyed it and would likely recommend it. Unlike my other reviews, this one horrifically long. I also know many of the readers of this blog aren't necessarily comic book fans so they may not jump out there and read a book about comics so I'm not really concerned with giving away the surprise ending.

While I'm not making a weekly trip to the comic shop, my interest in comics is as strong as ever. Most recently, I've grown more and more interested in the art and the future of comics. This is, in part, due to a renewed desire to work on some web comics and to increase my chances of making those web comics...not stink. In an effort to expand my knowledge of both the nature and the potential of comics, I went to two books by Scott McCloud. This was actually a re-read of these book but they were no less informative the second time around. I thought about doing one review of both but am, instead, opting for two separate reviews. This review is the first. My thoughts on McCloud's Reinventing Comics will be posted in a few days.

Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud is an interesting read for anyone at all interested in comics. It certainly takes what is often viewed as low-brow, trivial junk to be tossed in the garage sale pile or garbage pail and begs you to take a second look. McCloud breaks comics down, redefining the lowly medium as not only art but, specifically, as sequential art. That is, art that encompasses time, action, or motion (or all of the above) rather than one moment in time. The history of the medium is traced from ancient cave paintings to the Column of Marcus Aurelius to a visual depiction of the Martyrdom of Saint Erasmus all the way up to the works of such greats as Art Spiegelman (Maus), Will Eisner (The Spirit, et al), Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (Watchmen), and Frank Miller (The Dark Knight Returns).

McCloud also discusses the nature and perception of comics in other (i.e. non-North American) cultures. Specifically, he looks at the comics of Japan and contrasts them with western comic (comics from western culture...not comics about cowboys). Where western comics tend to focus on the superhero and non-superhero action comics that still feel like superhero comics, Japan comics are more diverse with genres that mirror your local library's selection (action, drama, romance, etc). The superhero theme is, of course, to be expected in the West as that's what sells the best. Naturally, publishers will print what people buy (more on that in my follow-up review). Also, Japanese comics are more often published and bound as novel-sized volumes rather than in monthly, episodic increments. The cultural differences run deeper and well into the actual art. Read on.

Even more interesting than the history and demographics of comics is the, for lack of a better term, magic of comics. Really, the relationship between what comics are/can do and how they relate to the human mind is fascinating. In particular, McCloud discusses the way time is represented in comics. More accurately, how time is perceived in comics. We look at a photograph and understand that it's a snaphot of a single instant and nothing more. However, if we look at a single panel of a comic, it could encompass any amount of time. It could be an instant (i.e. an image of a gunshot) or it could represent several minutes (i.e. an entire conversation). Actions and reactions can be captured within a single bound box. The tools used by the comic creator to represent time are varied with the most common being the basic word/thought balloons and simple object placement (following the Western left-to-right reading). There's more, though. A dramatic pause, for instance, could by shown via an extra wide panel, multiple silent panels, or a normal panel with extra wide gutters (the space between panels). Even more details are given regarding the mystical space that is the gutter.

Motion, like time, is another less tangible concept that requires some doing to fit into a static, two dimensional panel. McCloud looks at the various means comic creators have used to represent motion. The common methods involve multiple panels, motion lines, and the use of subjective motion (previously common to only Japanese comics but growing in popularity) which places the object as the focus and the surroundings being "blurred".

The nature of the panel is also discussed in great length. The various kind of transitions between the panels is the focus. What's represented when moving from one panel to the next? Motion? Action? Emotion? Tension? Nothing except a pause? Details and examples of all these are provided. The power of the panel is no more obvious than in the previously blogged Garfield minus Garfield comics. I'm not sure anything could represent awkward creepiness as well as an empty panel portraying absolutely nothing.

All in all, the images on the page are representative of some thing. McCloud points out that, no matter how realistic a drawing may be...it's still just a drawing. A highly detailed image of a pipe, for example, is still not an actual pipe though the eye and the brain still recognizes it as a pipe. A simplified drawing of a pipe is still translated into a pipe in the brain. Even more simplified would be the word "pipe" written on a page. It still invokes the image of a pipe despite the fact that the lines that make up the letters look nothing like a pipe. Stylization isn't bad by any means. In fact, making an overly detailed drawing can actually be distracting from the point. What is more evocative of a pipe? Something in a simple Courier font? Or something written in in a flowery calligraphy script. Both work, but which is better? The same idea works for drawings.

Finally, McCloud discusses the comic creators. What makes a creator great? Essentially, comics are a representation of something in the creator's mind. No matter how good a comic is, it will never rival what's actually in the imagination. A creator, then, is measured by their effectiveness at getting their imagination transmitted and translated into the imagination of the reader.

In short, I would recommend the book to my friends. In fact, I own a copy so if any of my friends want to borrow it, feel free to ask.