The Genius of Tintin

My co-worker and friend, John Lechner, has some thoughts on Tintin that I'd like to share with all of you. He just completed and posted a short essay on his website, which can be found here. He sets out to focus on Tintin as a "unique comic creation." Rather than delve into a biography on Hergé as many have done in recent years, he writes about the comics on their structural and narrative merits:

The similarity in the comic panels, which hardly vary in size or perspective, give the stories a documentary-like quality, as though the viewer is there watching the action from the side. Close-ups are rare, unusual camera angles are rarer. But the flow of the action is effortless, and Hergé can cut back and forth between scenes like an expert film director. The simplicity of the layouts makes for quick reading, as the reader never has to decipher a page or puzzle out experimental designs. While this won’t win the author many design awards, it does serve the stories well, and the story is the most important thing to Hergé. Even the smallest background details are there to serve the story.

Unlike John, I didn't grow up reading Tintin. I grew up watching cartoons (good and bad) instead. But in recent years I've acquired great admiration for Hergé's perfection of the adventure/detective comic. The stories are easy to follow while engaging for readers of all ages. John touches upon page layout. I too am a believer in the grid, and I look to Tintin when I construct my own comic layouts. In particular, I love it when Hergé leads you from one tight panel to the next, and then opens to a beautifully detailed full page illustration for key moments. His page construction is efficient, simple, and to the point. Plus, he allows his characters to exist full figure in the panels. Headshots are rare. And above all else, the drawings are fantastic. This spread from Tintin in Tibet is by far one of my favorites. All the comic pistons are firing!



Most of all, I love that Tintin doesn't pretend to be anything else but a comic. It doesn't read like the storyboard for a feature film. Characters don't leap out of the frame borders. It's comfortable being what it is—modest, yet genuis at the same time. Thanks again, John, for sharing your thoughts with us!

Images courtesy of Hergé

Doctor Velcro

This is a one-pager that I just inked up in honor of my friend, John Lechner (if you don't know by now, he's the amazing comic artist and creator of Sticky Burr). I thought it would be fun to do a little Sticky Burr comic of my own, featuring the nefarious evil-doer Doctor Velcro. Nothing like the real deal, though. This was all in good fun. I have to hand it to John, it ain't easy drawing all those little burrs!
(click to view larger image)

Renée Kurilla, artist cohort and FableVisionary extrordinaire, also fashioned a plush Sticky Burr, which you can see at her blog.

Graphic Novels

The primary reason for this post is that my artist friend and previously blogged about author John Lechner just finished writing an essay about graphic novels and comics that I'd like to share with you. You'll remember that he's the creative mind behind Sticky Burr. This is the link to the essay, and here's an excerpt:

The uneasy truth is that there are no clear definitions, only collective opinions. The word “comic” has been used to describe everything from Tintin to Krazy Kat to Maus — and yet, the word still can’t get a seat in a restaurant (or rather, a bookstore). Not so in countries like Japan, where the term Manga (translated literally as “humorous pictures”) covers an astounding array of comics and graphic fiction, both serious and silly, long and short, for adults and kids. The term does not have the limited association we Americans give to the word “comics” as something frivolous, insignificant, for people who don’t have the attention span for “real” books. Despite a few notable exceptions and a Pulitzer Prize, the comic has been banished to dimestore racks, independent comic shops, and underground presses.

I've rambled on more than once about how much I dislike that comics get called graphic novels so casually these days. It's more out of a fear of the word "comic" being stricken from the lexicon, or being forever categorized as a low and unworthy art form. I guess mainly because comic is the word I like. It's really the "comic book" that suffers from a supposedly embarrassing legacy in the public mind. The fact that graphic novels are taking off is a great thing for the comics medium, and I definitely have an appreciation for the gatekeeper reasoning of marketing to bookstores and libraries. But labeling as a marketing device still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And I've never liked the hierarchies of the art world in general (that one form should be regarded higher than another). Plus, it almost implies a sort of insecurity comic artists might have about their art form. It resonates of self-aggrandizement, too.

When people define graphic novels as comic books of a serious literary quality, length and breadth I guess it gives me a clear picture of what kinds of comics they are referring to. But when definitions speak of higher quality and sophistication it rubs me the wrong way. If you look at the entire scope of Charles Schulz's Peanuts, or George Herriman's Krazy Kat, they are both definitely worthy or critical analysis, and they were regarded as comic strips for the masses in their day. And I'm not sure all comics labeled as graphic novels can live up to the said standards. They just get marketed that way to get them on to book shelves. But if I'm in the book store, I'm definitely looking for the graphic novel section, since most of the comics I'm interested in are shelved there (versus the humor section—which is usually reserved for comic strip books). You don't, however, see graphic novel stores. I go to the comics store to get at the gut of the medium. So that in itself tells me that the graphic novel caught on as a term for the masses mainly to get comics into bookstores.

Ironically, the term "comic" is somewhat arbitrary, too, isn't it?—initially meant to convey the humor of the early forms, not the format at all. Maybe they should've been called "picto-squares" or "lots o' boxes." Hmph.

I'd be curious to read people's thoughts. So leave a comment if you like!

UPDATE: John just pointed me to an article on Salon.com by Douglas Wolk that speaks to some of these very issues. Read it here.

Sticky Burr

I'm spreading the word about a new comic book by my friend, John Lechner, called Sticky Burr: Adventures in Burrwood Forest. It's the first book in a series he's creating about a brave little guy named Sticky Burr—you know, those prickly burrs that stick to things? There's a whole colony of burrs living in the forest, and the comic wonderfully portrays Sticky Burr's adventures in 56 pages of water-colored comic art.

There are chases on dragonflies, wild dogs, maze trees, and pages from Stick Burr's journal interspersed throughout the comic that provide all the information you need to know about life in the forest. His publisher, Candlewick Press, is marketing it as a graphic storybook (a kid-lit graphic novel), but it's simply a great comic book for young readers, in the tradition of greats like Tintin. The pages are breathtaking to any comic aficionado (I repeat, he hand inked and water colored every page!). So be sure to look for it on your next trip to the book store. You can find out more at the official Sticky Burr website John created, and here's a direct link to purchase it. If I still haven't sold you, check out this animation John created, which features the official Sticky Burr song!