Category Archives: comics theory

text/image pairings in comics

Since I’ve been teaching Fun Home the past year and I just read Essentials of Visual Communication, I’ve thought a lot about what Alison Bechdel calls the “separate tracks” of comics, text and image. Scott McCloud categorizes these pairings in the “Show and Tell” chapter of Understanding Comics, but his emphasis is on which element, the text or the image, carries the most information. So he has categories like “word specific,” “duo-specific,” and “interdependent.” While I think these categories are useful, I’m more interested in what specifically the text and image are doing, what roles they are playing together. Obviously, wordless comics and dialogue-only comics are left out here, but Fun Home constantly pairs text and image and does so in different ways. I started making a list as a teaching aid and added to it a lot the past few weeks as I was going through Essentials of Visual Communication.

So I wanted to share a visual list of some of the pairings I came up with. Most of these came out of analysis of actual comics, especially Fun Home, while a few are theoretical. This is not supposed to be a complete list, but I am curious to hear if anyone reading this has other pairings to suggest. Besides the intellectual interest in making this list, I thought it might also be useful in teaching as well as creating comics. On the creation side, it could inspire creators to think of other ways in which text and image work together. In terms of teaching, I was thinking of putting some of these up for my students and getting them to look for which appear in Fun Home and where. If I were teaching a class about creating comics, then I could have students choose a certain number of pairings and use them as the basis for a comics panel or page.

So let’s start with narration and monstration. These are my pet terms of the past year. Narration is what is told, verbally. Monstration is what is shown, visually.

Sometimes the image shows what happens and the text explains how or why it happens.

In Modern Cartoonist, Dan Clowes says to think of the text as the mind and the image as the body.

And here’s one about the image/text red herring I mentioned in the Essentials of Visual Communication post.

The opinionated lizard narrator in Enigma made me think of this next one.

These next three come from teaching Fun Home.

And two theoreticals.

Do you have any others? Or any specific examples of the above pairings?

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notes on Essentials of Visual Communication

I picked this up from the library. The organization of the book is a bit scattershot and there are some odd claims in it. And large portions of the book don’t interest me, like the explanations of how the business of an ad agency works. And oddly for a book about visual communication, there is no mention of comics at all. There is discussion of film, literature, billboards, web sites, tv commercials, but nothing about comics. All that being said, there are some interesting and insightful ideas presented in the book. Some of them I had heard before in other places, but they were presented here with nice specific examples.

Anyway, I made some notes of things that interested me as I read, so I thought I’d share them here. I left out things about Gestault principles and axis of action, not because I wasn’t interested, but because the book didn’t introduce any new insights about them (for me). The following is simply an undigested bullet list. Also it probably goes without saying, but in the following notes I was thinking specifically about the relation to comics.

• image/text red herring. The text can create an expectation that the image subverts. Or vice versa.

• image/text difference. Image shows what happens. Text describes how/why it happens (more on this in another post).

• metonymy. Often employed to illustrate an abstract concept: picture of Wall Street to stand in for idea of stock market. Or a cup with one toothbrush next shown with two toothbrushes to show that a new relationship has begun.

• synecdoche. Part stands in for whole. A seagull is shown to stand in for a whole seaside setting. This reminds me of three jagged lines in Peanuts standing in for an entire lawn.

• metaphor. Often used in advertising. The image is the metaphor; the text acts as the referent. Example: the image is of an arrow, the text states the make of a car. The viewer understands that the car is fast.

• context. The textual context can change the meaning of an image. If an image of two couples embracing is accompanied by the word yes, then the image takes on a romantic meaning. If the same image is accompanied by the word no, then the image is about a nonconsensual pairing.

•frame/panel. Horizontal and vertical frames have inherent movement. Square frames are static. Though a diagonal composition in a square frame can give it some dynamism.

• rule of thirds. Split a frame into thirds horizontally and vertically. Place important elements on the intersections.

• L > R movement. Left to right movement is the standard U.S. reading direction and images that move that direction seem to being going somewhere. Figures that move from right to left seem to be coming home.

• shadows = volume. Figures without shadows look two-dimensional. Shadows give figures weight and volume.

• head in frame. If a person’s head is low in a frame, then it seems like the person is sinking.

• Roland Barthes: studium and punctum. Studium is an image that is informative, presents a general observation. Many news photos fall into this category. Puctum is an image that contains a question or something wrong with it that makes the viewer have to interpret. A photo of a group of people looking at something out of the frame would fit this category.

• Roland Barthes: positive and negative space. This is different than the graphic design meanings of the terms. The positive space is what the viewer sees in the image. The negative space is what the viewer intuits to be outside the image. This relates to studium and punctum.

• Roland Barthes: anchorage and relay. These are categories for relationships between text and image. Anchorage is when the text and image are anchored in each other, when they say the same thing. Scott McCloud labels this as duo-specific. Relay is when the text and image carry different pieces of information, or say different things but come together to create a greater meaning. McCloud labels this interdependent.

• denotation and connotation. As with words, images have denotative meaning, what they literally mean, and connotative meaning, what they imply. Connotation refers the to associated ideas or emotions around an image. A picture of a casket connotes death.

• image/text reception. An image is more immediate, processed by the right brain. It is more emotional. Text is decoded, processed by the left brain. It is more intellectual.

• equality vs. contrast. Equality is static. A frame divided equally in half has no movement. Contrast is dynamic. A frame divided so that the top portion is larger has a weight to it. The top portion presses down on the lower portion.

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black force

I love these talks John McWade does for Before & After. While I don’t do straight graphic design anymore (and even when I did it was only for about a year at a local weekly), much of the thought behind graphic design is about how to tell a story in images so it translates well to comics.  McWade does a nice job of making this apparent. Even if you don’t like his finished products, I think seeing his thought processes for them is really insightful. In the video above, he mentions something that I’ve definitely done and seen other comics artists do.

A question I have: is there a book that mentions concepts like these? There must be some graphic design book out there that goes through principles like the one above. I know in the graphic design class I took in college, the instructor walked us through various Gestault design principles and had us apply them in various ways. So, if you know of such a book, then let me know. Part of why I ask is that this is something most how-to comics books leave out. Most focus on drawing itself, mainly figure rendering. A few focus more on the visual storytelling side, such as Brunetti’s Cartooning: Theory and Practice. Still, most don’t push the graphic design angle of comics. McCloud mentions Gestault principles a bit in Understanding Comics (ironically, Making Comics focuses more on how to draw and one’s approach to that than design elements), but that’s the only book I can think of right now that does so.

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readings

From Plato to Lumiére: Narration and Monstration in Literature in Cinema by André Gaudreault. Originally published in 1988, this book attempts to bridge literary, stage, and film narrative theory. Gaudreault is the one who coined the term “monstration,” so I felt I should read his book. So far, his style is very accessible. And he covers the main conflicts in narrative theory, especially as they apply to film, such as the debate over whether one can say if a film has a narrator or not. I’m hoping that his ideas will transfer over to comics.

 

 

 

 

Projections: Comics and the History of Twenty-First-Century Storytelling by Jared Gardner. I just received a Stanford University Press 2012 catalog and this book was in the beginning. It looks like this book isn’t just another history of comics, but is instead a look at how comics storytelling works and how it’s progress relates to the rise of the modern world. It looks interesting.

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problems in panel composition

Here is a nice post by Chris Schweizer about common problems in comics panel composition. This is a really complete list and specifically geared towards comics. I had heard about some of these ideas a long time ago from a book my dad got me when I was in high school: The Complete Book of Cartooning by John Adkins Richardson. Richardson has three main categories, which he calls ambiguous alignments, tenuous contacts, and distracting parallels. Here’s his example image:

As kind of a corollary to the above, I think the panel borders often present their own challenges. They exist as lines on the page like everything else and they create a very two-dimensional space, both of which can serve to flatten out the composition of a drawing. Over the years, I’ve been collecting notes for a book about creating comics, and here’s one on an index card about panel borders:

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Brunetti’s Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice

The book is back in print, this time by Yale University Press. The new book is 88 pages and the one I have is 80, so I wonder if there is some new material. Anyway, I recommend it if you haven’t read it (and not many people have).

It is dubbed “a classroom in a book” and is organized as a fifteen week syllabus. So it’s obviously very useful to teachers of comics. The book promotes a very distinct attitude about the medium. It’s like an anti-How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way. While the latter book focuses on proportion and surface style, the former focuses almost exclusively on storytelling. For instance, in most of the exercises Brunetti encourages the students to use characters made out of basic shapes and not consider style at all.

I think Abel and Madden’s Drawing Words & Writing Pictures is probably a more comprehensive primer for the aspiring comics artist (a term Brunetti hates, preferring “cartoonist”), but Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice is a very accessible book. It’s small, calmly laid out, and contains exercises that are straightforward and fun. And it’s smart.

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narratology: losing focus with focalization

So let’s apply some of the concepts of narratology to an actual comic. My purpose is not merely to use the ideas but also to point out some potential drawbacks.

Let’s start with this two panel strip from Gipi’s The Innocents:

For these two panels, Andrea is the focalizer. This scene is filtered through his point of view. In the first panel, the word balloons from Gil and his friend are entering Andrea’s space. In the second panel, we are seeing the reunion between Gil and his childhood friend from Andrea’s perspective. To bring in another term, the second panel is ocularized from Andrea’s perspective. More specifically, it’s “internal ocularization”- meaning the reader sees what Andrea sees. The focalized subjects are Gil and his friend. So far so good.

The first panel, however, has external ocularization (we are not viewing through a character’s eyes). What we see is Andrea himself. He is the focus of the panel. Yes, his attention is outside the car, but in this panel we don’t yet see what he sees. All we see is him. He is the subject in our view. Yet in this scene the focalized subject is still the pair of men outside.

This is why focalization is only one part of the overall narrative. Merely applying a focalization checklist to the scene– “focalizer: Andrea; focalized subject: Gil and friend”–  means we may overlook the obvious– “in the first panel we see a kid and in the second panel we see two guys hugging.” This is true of any theory, of course. A critical theory is merely a lens with which to view a work and it brings into focus certain elements while obscuring others. I’m just trying to feel out those poles in focalization. The central question of focalization is “who sees?” In our example, it’s Andrea. But we, the readers, are also seeing. So we should never lose sight of the sister question: “what is shown?”

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struggles in narratology – a first step

Let me start off my by saying that this post is about my struggle to understand the field of narratology and how to apply it to comics. So I’m trying to work things out and I’m using this as place to do that. In other words, don’t expect a coherent argument. I haven’t gotten there yet.

What started me on this path was a realization some time ago that multiple points of view were possible in comics and that those points of view could be at play within a single panel. For instance, the narrative caption could present one point of view and the image another. At the time, I was trying to describe this using the traditional terms of points of view: first person, second person, third person omniscient, third person limited, and third person objective. I realized that these terms were really awkward when trying to describe images. What is often referred to as “first person narration” in comics usually involves images in which we see the narrator, which means the images are third person limited. Only a few comics actually use first person–panels shown through the eyes of the narrator– in their imagery.  At the time I was trying to describe all this and collect examples I read Derik Badman’s “Points of View: ‘First Person’ in Comics.” What I quickly came to realize was that my education was very conservative. Since the 1970s, there had been an entire movement regarding how to look at narrative and the old terms of point of view were outdated. They had been replaced by the concept of focalization and its related elements. This is narratology.

So I went off to read. The book I ended getting the most out of was Mieke Bal’s Narratology. While I still found it difficult to get into at first, I really liked the tone she struck in the beginning. Her view of narratology is entirely practical. Bal doesn’t deny cultural theory, which has taken over the critical landscapes of many departments in the humanities, but instead argues that a close and nuanced understanding of how narrative is constructed will add to these other theories. “Political and ideological criticism… cannot but be based on insights into the way texts produce those political effects” (13). I found this practical approach in a theoretical text refreshing.

So anyway, I began the read the book, but found I had to make notes for myself as I went. The way Bal structured her argument didn’t work for me, so I had to piece things together on my own. One of the big insights of narratology, as Bal describes it, is that the narrator is not the only entity responsible for point of view. This is where the focalizer comes in. But even within the concepts of “narrator” and “focalizer” there are distinctions to be made. So I made a chart for myself to make sense of it all (keep in mind that this is my interpretation of Bal and may, in fact, not be accurate):

Let me give you an example to help clarify all this. If I told you a story about my childhood, I would be the narrator. I would be perceptible because I would be offering my own opinion and I would be character-bound since I would be a character in the fabula. I would also be the focalizer, though, more accurately, my childhood self would be the focalizer. Again, I would be character-bound since I was in the story. I would also be the main actor.

If we take a more complicated narrative, you can see how these terms become useful. Let’s say I were to tell you a story that my grandmother told me about my great-grandfather (her father). Here, I would be the narrator and I would be perceptible, but I would be external since I would not be in the story I would be telling. The focalizer would be my grandmother, since she is the agent of perception. She may be external or, if she were telling a story about she and her father, she would be character-bound. The actor here would be my great-grandfather. It is also possible that I could be considered another focalizer, since my perception about my grandmother would color how I described her. But I’m not so sure about this, so this is one of the questions I have.

While all this terminology is good for describing the possible complexities of narrative, it’s a little unwieldy. One thing I did when reading Bal’s book was to use the terms to classify short stories I was reading with my students. “A Jury of Her Peers” came out as EN(np) [CF] and “The Yellow Wallpaper” came out as CN(p) [CF]. I felt that offering such equations to my students would confuse them more than help them, so I stuck with “it’s third person limited” and “it’s first person” respectively.

Furthermore, not all theorists seem to use these terms in the same way. Close, but not exactly the same. At the International Society for the Study of Narrative website, focalization is described as the interplay between narrator, focalizer, and focalized (what Mal called the “actor”). When the focalizer is defined, it is defined as a character. This means that Bal’s category of EF, external focalizer, is not considered.

The other problem is how to accurately apply this to comics. Bal mentions visual narratology, but only briefly. I’ve found that narratology is used in film, but, as I mentioned in the last paragraph, in a slightly different way than Bal uses it. Which means that it will be all well and good for me to read more, but I don’t think I’m going to find one coherent theory that I can apply to comics. I think I’m going to have to digest the things I read and just use what seems helpful.

Right now, the concepts seem more important to me than the terms. The idea that what is represented in a story is a combination of various elements  rather than one thing, as implied by traditional point of view theory, is fascinating. Being able to describe those various elements helps to understand a comic. But again, I think it’s more important to know to look for it than it is to have a universal system that can reduce the scenes of a story into a mathematical code.

Anyway, at some later date I’ll actually talk about some comics.

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units of composition

Comics and film often get compared. They are both visual narrative mediums, so it’s inevitable. Yet sometimes they get conflated. I’ve heard from a few places, such as an old interview with Frank Miller, that comics are just movies on paper. The comics artist, then, just plays an imagined movie in her or his head and transcribes that onto the page. But, as many others have pointed out, approaches that work in film don’t work in comics. And vice versa. Eisner is probably the first to lay out the differences. He spends the most time doing so on pages 70 through 73 of Graphic Storytelling & Visual Narrative. But he also touches on this in Comics & Sequential Art when he compares a comics panel to a film frame (40). In a comic, a reader can always see the future panels, whereas a film viewer can never see future frames. Eisner says that this is because “there are actually two ‘frames’… the page… and the panel itself” (41). To put this another way, a comics artist should not just consider what goes in each individual frame, which would be a film approach. Some artists do this of course, and in doing so they sacrifice readability as well as the larger aesthetic of the page. Just look at storyboards for a film and compare them to your favorite comic and the difference will become clear. But I want to add another category to Eisner’s concepts of page and panel. There is also the strip- the horizontal row of panels. So, it seems to me that artists tend to fall into categories based on their units of composition: panel, strip, or page.

From Drawn and Quarterly volume 3
From Drawn and Quarterly volume 3

The above Sunday page from Frank King’s Gasoline Alley is a classic example of the page as unit of composition approach. All the panels fit together to make the whole image of the house. We still read left-to-right, top-to-bottom, but we can also pull out of the action and see all the panels together as a whole. This is obviously something that isn’t possible in film.

Chris Ware was greatly inspired by King, as the above page from Jimmy Corrigan shows. Ware is probably the most famous current practitioner of the page as unit of composition approach. His pages are often geometrically balanced and he’s famous for his bravura pages of diagrammatic pages whose panels force the reader out of the normal reading paradigm.

The above image from Gipi’s The Innocents is an example of what I’m calling the strip as unit of composition approach. Gipi often uses one long panel per strip, but when he employs two they are structured to work together. In the example above, Andrea’s gaze and the tails of the word balloons point to the second panel, drawing the reader’s gaze from one panel to the next, and also making it clear that the second panel is what Andrea is seeing (the internal frame of the car window further heightening this). In other words, the two panels are not separate units, each conveying their own information. They are constructed to work together, to further the narrative not just by the information that each conveys, but what they convey together.

Of course, no one artist is limited to one approach, and no artist has to stick to one approach within a given work. Still, I think it’s interesting to look at the different rhythms and foci possible in comics art.

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