Comics Bulletin logo
Search
  • Columns
    Random
    • Wordsmith 10

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      March 25, 2012
      Cheap Thrills, Columns
    Recent
    • The Full Run: Usagi Yojimbo – The Wanderer’s Road Part 2

      Daniel Gehen
      December 4, 2020
    • The Full Run: Usagi Yojimbo – The Wanderer’s Road Part 1

      Daniel Gehen
      October 30, 2020
    • Comictober 2020: DRACULA MOTHERF**KER

      Daniel Gehen
      October 27, 2020
    • What Looks Good
    • Comics Bulletin Soapbox
    • The Full Run
    • Leading Question
    • Top 10
    • The Long-Form
    • Jumping On
    • Comics in Color
    • Slouches Towards Comics
  • Big Two
    Random
    • 1.0

      Guarding the Galaxy: Star-Lord #6

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      May 4, 2016
      Big Two, Big Two Reviews, Marvel Comics
    Recent
    • 4.5

      DCeased: Dead Planet #7 Presents a Hopeful Future (Review)

      Daniel Gehen
      January 22, 2021
    • Retro Review: Detective Comics #826 Remains a Holiday Classic

      Daniel Gehen
      December 3, 2020
    • Stan Lee

      nguyen ly
      November 7, 2020
    • DC Comics
    • Big Two Reviews
    • Marvel Comics
  • Indie
    Random
    • Graphic Novel THE HEART HUNTER From Legendary Comics Releases Late 2020

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      September 12, 2019
      Indie, News, Press Release
    Recent
    • Review: The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist

      Daniel Gehen
      December 14, 2020
    • The Full Run: Usagi Yojimbo – The Wanderer’s Road Part 2

      Daniel Gehen
      December 4, 2020
    • 4.5

      TMNT: The Last Ronin #1 Lives Up to the Hype (Review)

      Daniel Gehen
      October 29, 2020
    • Reviews
    • Archie Comics
    • Boom! Studios
    • Dark Horse
    • IDW
    • Image
    • Oni Press
    • Valiant
  • Reviews
    Random
    • 4.0

      American Vampire #7

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      October 12, 2010
      Reviews
    Recent
    • 4.5

      DCeased: Dead Planet #7 Presents a Hopeful Future (Review)

      Daniel Gehen
      January 22, 2021
    • Review: The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist

      Daniel Gehen
      December 14, 2020
    • Retro Review: Detective Comics #826 Remains a Holiday Classic

      Daniel Gehen
      December 3, 2020
    • Singles Going Steady
    • Slugfest
    • Manga
      • Reviews
    • Small Press
      • Reviews
      • ICYMI
      • Tiny Pages Made of Ashes
  • Interviews
    Random
    • Fred Van Lente: Valiantly Towards the Future

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      May 13, 2014
      Interviews
    Recent
    • Interview: Jon Davis-Hunt Talks SHADOWMAN

      Daniel Gehen
      June 8, 2020
    • Interview: Becky Cloonan talks DARK AGNES and Her Personal Influences

      Mike Nickells
      March 4, 2020
    • Simon Roy

      Interview: Simon Roy on His Inspirations and Collaborations on PROTECTOR

      Mike Nickells
      January 29, 2020
    • Audio Interview
    • Video Interview
  • Classic Comics
    Random
    • Interview: Chris Claremont: A Life in Comics

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      November 7, 2014
      Classic Comics Cavalcade, Columns, Interviews
    Recent
    • Countdown to the King: Marvel’s Godzilla

      Daniel Gehen
      May 29, 2019
    • Honoring A Legend: Fantagraphics To Resurrect Tomi Ungerer Classics

      Daniel Gehen
      February 15, 2019
    • Reliving the Craziest Decade in Comics History: An interview with Jason Sacks

      Mark Stack
      January 2, 2019
    • Classic Comics Cavalcade
    • Classic Interviews
  • News
    Random
    • Kickstarter Spotlight: Harken’s Raiders by Marz and Banks

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      December 14, 2018
      Kickstarter Spotlight, Miscellaneous Comic Book Content, News
    Recent
    • 2020 Ringo Awards Winners Announced

      Daniel Gehen
      October 26, 2020
    • BAD IDEA Announces 2021 Publishing Slate

      Daniel Gehen
      September 29, 2020
    • A Full Replay of NCSFest 2020 is now Available

      Daniel Gehen
      September 15, 2020
    • Press Release
    • Kickstarter Spotlight
  • Books
    Random
    • 5.0

      Review: "Snowden" by Ted Rall

      Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
      November 17, 2015
      Books, Indie, Reviews, Small Press
    Recent
    • Collecting Profile: Disney Frozen

      CB Staff
      November 22, 2019
    • Collecting Profile: NFL Superpro

      CB Staff
      August 31, 2019
    • “THE BEST OF WITZEND” is a Wonderful Celebration of Artistic Freedom

      Daniel Gehen
      September 15, 2018
    • Review: ‘Machete Squad’ is a Disappointing Afghan Memoir

      Jason Sacks
      July 31, 2018
    • Review: ‘Out of Nothing’ is the Antidote to Our Sick Times

      Jason Sacks
      July 23, 2018
    • Review: ‘Bizarre Romance’ Shows Rough Edges in the Early Days of a New Marriage

      Jason Sacks
      July 10, 2018
What's New
  • Collecting Profile: If I win Powerball, I will buy Amazing Fantasy 15
  • DCeased: Dead Planet #7 Presents a Hopeful Future (Review)
  • Collecting Profile: Batwoman
  • Collecting Profile: Daredevil
  • Collecting Profile: Floronic Man
  • Review of Cheetah in Wonder Woman 1984
  • RSS Feed
  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Google+
  • Contact Us
  • Write for us!
  • Visit Video Game Break!
Home
Small Press

Tiny Pages Made of Ashes 3/3/17: The Vast Possibilities of the Small Press

Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
March 3, 2017
Small Press, Tiny Pages Made of Ashes

Tiny Pages Made of Ashes is Comic Bulletin’s Small Press Review Column.


WE ALL WISH FOR DEADLY FORCE

By Leela Corman
Published by Retrofit Comics
Available HERE


My friend Megan Purdy and I talked about We All Wish for Deadly Force for three hours before I’d even read it. She was working on a review (which turned out quite well) and wanted to talk it out to get a better idea of what there was for her to say about the book. I like talking things out; fielding questions and going on tangents is an essential part of me finding out what is or isn’t there. So I asked Megan questions and the most interesting things she said were about the book’s design and how the collection of shorts was organized beautifully. I must be easily influenced, because I have to say that upon reading it, the organization of this collection immediately stood out to me even after what must have been a couple months.


There’s no table of contents in this book and there very well shouldn’t be. This isn’t a collection designed for a reader to thumb around the various comics in order of shortest to longest. Like a museum’s collection is curated and organized into what will hopefully be the most effective delivery for visitors, this collection guides you through it with purpose. The names and details change as the line between semiautobio and autobio is erased and redrawn, but a larger narrative develops because it’s the same voice singing the songs.


Corman’s first comic in this collection, “The Wound That Never Heals,” is part medical pamphlet and part confessional about the effects of the long-term effects of PTSD that the author has lived with following the death of her daughter. Corman illustrates the concept of hypervigilance as the titular wound that never heals; it’s a compelling image onto which even readers who haven’t experienced PTSD can project their own personal experiences whether they’d like to or not. It’s a world-ender.


Hypervigilance and triggers become an integral part of the collection as longer pieces are punctuated by a strip centered on a moment in time when the author’s grief was triggered so that the reader remains vigilant as well. The belly-dancing stories in this collection live side-by-side with Corman recalling a traumatic event at a grocery store because the price coincides with the date it occured. It’s the gift of Corman’s cartooning that made me feel I could understand the emotions she was expressing, but it’s the strength of this organization simulating the effects of triggers and hypervigilance that made them intimately real.


The story that concludes the collection, “The Book of the Dead,” is a great work on its own about the necessary sacrifices made by forbearers that create distance between them and their children. The Holocaust weighs heavy on Corman’s family tree, having inflicted a wound that never heals even as each generation responds to it in their own necessarily different way. That weight carries over into Corman’s work as she playfully questions what makes someone a good/bad Jew or ponders what the living have to offer the dead for their sacrifices. “The Book of the Dead” serves as a statement (not final, never final) about Corman’s use of art as an offering to the living and the dead. It carries an additional weight after these questions have been intimated for the reader to unconsciously consider in the previous stories. This final comic can not simply be boiled down to Corman reacting to one or even two things after the reader has been presented with a rich portrait of her life and personal history. It could not come at the beginning. Placing it there would be tantamount to instructing the reader how to interpret the following comics rather than encouraging them to create connections between them that are then illuminated further by the final comic after the initial experience has already been forged. It’s the sum of all the stories; the autobios, the belly dancers, the extended metaphors.


Corman spills blood on the page in order to commune, and her book speaks to the reader. A short comic exploring trauma through the visual metaphor of a forest being contained inside of someone might be inscrutable if presented in isolation, but one understands it as this book is largely a conversation between Corman and the reader about reactions to trauma. There is no forward, no afterword. All the words for understanding Corman are in the work itself and it’s up to the reader to listen.


— MARK STACK @MarkOStack


KATZINE

By Katriona Chapman
Published by Tomatito Press
Available HERE


In his short story “The Dual Personality of Slick Dick Nickerson,” American Naturalist writer Frank Norris explores the fragility of human personality. In this tale, the titular character, a Methodist Preacher, becomes a cut-throat pirate after suffering a blackout due to heat stroke, only to later return to his preacher ways after a blow to the head. It’s the kind of story that makes you wonder how we define who we are as it points to the idea that no matter how sure we are of ourselves, that “self” is fleeting; we are constantly evolving.


I look back at the cock-sure, punk kid that I was in the 80s and I have no idea who he was. He has given way to a softer, kinder, more understanding and fearful man in the year 2017. I’m the same person, yet I am not as I was.


Who will I be tomorrow?


I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the tenuous nature of identity, especially as it relates to the relationship between an artist and their art. If art is a fundamental expression of the self, but that “self” is ephemeral, then what is the lasting meaning of all artistic endeavor?


Strangely then, as if on cue, British cartoonist Katriona Chapman sent me copies of her softly-rendered, solidly-produced autobio zine series, Katzine. At first I wasn’t really sure what to make of these. In page after page of subdued and washed graphite drawings suffused with meticulously hand lettered text, Chapman presents herself. She does this not only through straight-up facts about who she “is” and what her life consists of as if part of a get-to-know-you type interview, but also by stepping back and documenting her interactions with her life, specifically her world travels and the people she encounters along the way.

 

As a person, I was initially uncomfortable with the forthrightness of Chapman’s presumption that her life is important enough to bear such scrutiny and light. I was worried that she was giving truth to a self that, for all extents and purposes, is a lie, a construct, mutable and inconsistent.


But as a reader I was pulled in, awash in this artist’s understanding of herself as it stood in the moment of creation, and how her lens allows for a particularity of perception. For example, in Katzine issue #4, Chapman uses a 12 panel page featuring aspect-to-aspect transitions to indicate how quickly the days go by on her vacation. Chapman chooses to show particular things in each panel give a sense of place, but also give a sense of a single perceptive lens. The choices indicate a particular point-of-view that “becomes” in the moment of making that choice.

 

It is as if the primacy of the self, the fundamental underpinning of so many autobio comics, became secondary to the presentation of information that reveals an understanding. While certainly you learn about “who” Katriona Chapman is through the pages of Katzine, her “self” is a cipher for decoding experience in the larger sense of understanding perception. The act of mimicking experience through her art allows her to be the person she becomes. In effect, living life and transferring those moments into a method of conveyance transforms not only that experience, but the self itself.


While I assume Katzine is not meant to answer questions of the lasting meaning of artistic endeavor, through it Chapman explores the nature of the artists.  And perhaps this is what makes all art important — how it relates to the individual. It functions as a lens that allows us all to peer at the minutiae of life. Katzine points to the fact that it’s not just the sum of experience that creates the person, it’s the perspective one uses to both make sense of those moments and the stories we convey afterwards that make the self.


And that is pretty powerful stuff. I’m glad that Katzine exists and that Katriona Chapman felt the need to share her “self” as it stands.


The world looks a lot brighter to me now that I’ve looked through this lens.

— DANIEL ELKIN @DanielElkin

SEAGRAM

By David Biskup
Available HERE


David Biskup’s Seagram opens with a fellow walking in front of Mark Rothko’s painting Black on Maroon and taking a bunch of pills.  His blurred silhouette — another veritable black on maroon — haunts the pages that follow, as do many other things.  When reading up on the Seagram murals both after and during my experience, one of Jones’ descriptions of Black on Maroon in this piece stuck out.  Referring to the window-pane-like maroon shapes in the painting, Jones mentions how one might expect that “it ought to allow the mind egress.”  And of course, the same can be said of the past.


I cannot fathom what PTSD must be like for those whom it inflicts.  It acts as a real haunting; a master of ceremonies lies dormant in your mind, taking their cue to conjure not from you, but from the way light reflects from across the room, or a particular smell of a passerby, or as in the subject of this book, the sound of a ripped dress.


Seagram is a direct, unambiguous comparison between the restoration of a brutally un-esoteric painting and the rehabilitation of Biskup’s wife on her journey to cope with PTSD.  As such, it occurred to me that this work might feel ham-fisted to some; but, despite the apparent convenience of the metaphor (and the clumsy way that Biskup emphatically gestures at the book’s end towards the chance meeting between dealing with his wife and picking up a Rothko biography), it is perhaps the most promising gateway into understanding why Biskup is able to dig deep in these pages.  The crudest question you might come away from this work with is, I think, the right question:


Why bother?

 

In Seagram, Biskup makes a conscious decision to include the pages in which Rothko sets up to commit suicide.  While in one way it functions simply to display the tragically serendipitous arrival of the Seagram collection at the Tate gallery on the very same day as Rothko’s suicide, it also stands in serious contrast to the main thread of the book in which Biskup tries, unflinchingly, to help his wife continue her life.


The answer to, “why bother?” as Biskup presents it, is certainly not, “because this shit is easy.”  His wife’s trauma, whether things are falling apart or improving, is presented on the page in a striking fashion.  The initial trigger of her trauma is presented as fragments of relevant memories, haphazardly mixed with increasingly obtuse echoes of themselves, which then fade out into juxtaposed evocations of Rothko’s work.  The effect is an appropriate one in which it feels like not only has the dam broken, but some semblance of meaning has been lost.  The rest of his wife’s struggle — save for a moment of peace with a cigarette and the empty question of what the hell is supposed to come next — is presented in this fashion.  Rothko achieves a powerful effect with these layouts: he makes the reader feel as if — both in spite of and because of the frenetic visual structure — the reader has a better grasp on what’s going on than the people in the story.


Meanwhile, Black on Maroon, a work I would not have thought about twice if I had looked at it three times prior,  suddenly feels imbued with a great deal of meaning.  A painting that initially smacked of a knee-jerk restrictive definition of art (“art?  But I could paint that!”), is contextualized not just by the inclusion of Rothko’s fate, but also by the juxtaposition of reductive cartoonish exploits within the painting’s sub-particles (via Bertha the Barium Ion) with the much more sombre Biskup family tale.  In Seagram, Black on Maroon comes out feeling oddly humanized.

 

Compared to the obvious fragility of art (grab a pencil and you can literally just destroy invaluable things), the fragility of a human is something that permeates their entire existence, both the things unseen and those pieces of them that stretch outward into the world through experience.  Moreover, fragility is shared.  One of the reasons Biskup’s depiction of his wife’s trauma does not feel out of place or out of turn is because he depicts his own perception of the situation in the identical style to the traumatic episode itself.  Once trauma is conjured, the spell is not kind enough to keep to a single mind. Biskup is careful to depict his wife’s experience on a continuum with his own.  As a result, a book built on a tenuous metaphor succeeds at both of that metaphor’s ends, helping readers find life in an inaccessible work, and meaning in a common struggle.
 
— AUSTIN LANARI @AustinLanari

David BiskupKatriona ChapmanLeela CormanRetrofit ComicsTomatito Press

Share On:
Tweet
Leading Questions: Remastering Kirby
Review: ‘Green Arrow’ #18

About The Author

<a href="http://comicsbulletin.com/byline/austin-lanari/" rel="tag">Austin Lanari</a>, <a href="http://comicsbulletin.com/byline/daniel-elkin/" rel="tag">Daniel Elkin</a>, <a href="http://comicsbulletin.com/byline/mark-stack/" rel="tag">Mark Stack</a>
Austin Lanari, Daniel Elkin, Mark Stack
Small-Press Editor

Daniel Elkin is Comics Bulletin's Small Press Editor. He can be found on Twitter: @DanielElkin

Related Posts

  • Top 15 Comics (Elkin Reviewed) in 2016

    Daniel Elkin
    December 26, 2016
  • 11 Comics That Improved Me in 2016

    Ray Sonne
    December 25, 2016

Support Us!

Buy Me a Coffee at ko-fi.com

Friends of the Site

  • SOLRAD
  • Your Chicken Enemy
  • Psycho Drive-In
  • Women Write About Comics
  • The Beat
  • Loser City
RSSTwitterFacebookgoogleplusinstagramtumblr

Comics Bulletin is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for website owners to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com, audible.com, and any other website that may be affiliated with Amazon Service LLC Associates Program. As an Amazon Associate, Comics Bulletin earns from qualifying purchases.

All content on this site (c) 2018 The Respective Copyright Holders