I was clueless as to what to expect when opening Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art, and, in fact, found myself embarrassed to be walking around with a book I had yet to open and, therefore, barely considered a textbook. I had flipped through the book, noting its comic-book-like structure, and dismissed it as a “nerdy” discourse on comics. I didn’t want my friends to see me reading what was perceivably a comic book, because, as McCloud points out, there is a particular stigmatization of comics and a lack of recognition in terms of how significant a genre comics comprise. He even notes that comic artists are reluctant to refer to themselves as such. He writes, “For much of this century, the word ‘comics’ has had such negative connotations that many of comics’ most devoted practitioners have preferred to be known as ‘illustrators,’ ‘commercial artists,’ or, at best, ‘cartoonists’!” (18). It wasn’t until I read the assigned chapters that I grew a deep appreciation for and of comics, and how relevant they actually are to our everyday lives.
While I initially resisted the form McCloud chose to present his ideas, it grew on me very quickly, creating the suspense, sustained interest, and enjoyment that I had forgotten I had once experienced when lightly perusing comics like the Archie comic books I read at summer camp as a young girl. Never before, though, had I realized that there were so many different aspects germane to the genre of comics. By illustrating his points in comic-book form, I was better able to understand the various themes and concepts McCloud introduced throughout the various chapters.
I became deeply interested in the concepts he proposed which applied even to everyday life. At first, I was deeply struck by the idea of the face as a mask (36-7). McCloud was correct in his assumption that I probably would be less engaged in the material presented in the book unless the narrator was “practically a blank slate” or “a concept.” I also had not consciously thought about how we, as humans, are programmed in such a way that “our identities and awareness are invested in many inanimate objects every day. Our clothes, for example, can trigger numerous transformations in the way others see us and in the way we see ourselves” (38). McCloud further grabbed my attention when he wrote, “Since viewer-identification is a specialty of cartooning, cartoons have historically held an advantage in breaking into world popular culture” (42).
Previously, I had not realized that the imagery of icons, time frames, and even the way we react to different line strokes was so deeply ingrained in our collective cultural subconscious. Additionally, I found the third chapter, “Blood In the Gutter,” to be very interesting in terms of how it presented and defined different ways of characterizing the passing of time. McCloud articulated how several different mechanisms of space, the use of lines, et al, could represent a schema of time. While perhaps on a subconscious level I had recognized these devices before (such as elongating a rectangle or repeating the single image of the pondering man), I had never been so acutely aware of how much thought, work, and intellect went into creating these dimensions of time.
Overall, I enjoyed this read, and, as I have mentioned, have gained a new appreciation for a genre that, previously, I had barely considered to be a genre at all. Now I see it as a rich and fascinating genre offering a wide spectrum of ideas, theories, and appreciable artistry in both the written and visual forms.