Comic Book As A Genre

I grew up on graphic novels and mangas, however, I never read a book about the theories behind the conventions of the art form. I knew about the phenomenon of having a detailed background in mangas with simplified characters, but I had no idea that artists had named that concept “masking.” Thus I enjoyed Scott McCloud’s “Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art,” because it allowed me to develop a deeper appreciation and respect for a genre that I love – a genre that for far too long had suffered from self-esteem issues.

I do disagree with McCloud on one point, however, namely the one where he tries to define comics as juxtaposed pictorial and other images in a deliberate sequence intended to convey information and to produce an aesthetic response in the viewer. McCloud should have used this definition to define a different word. One that encompasses everything from scroll paintings and mangas to graphic novels and comics.

Yes, I believe that the word “comics” should only designate a genre and be part of that word – whatever that word may be. Why, because of the connotation that the word “comics” had developed over the years. When you say the word “comics,” 90% of the people will be thinking of the same thing: one of Marvel’s or D.C.’s comic books. Not of Frank Miller’s graphic novel and certainly not of Kentaro Miura’s manga, and if you dare to compare it to one of Gu Kaizhi scroll paintings, then you are bound to fail. Trying to alter a preconception that had developed about comics in the past four decades is almost impossible.

When artists, like Frank Miller, feels offended when someone does not refer to him as graphic novelists, and when Barns&Nobles and Borders barely sells any Marvel or D.C. comic books, but is filled with hundreds of mangas – under the title of “manga” – it’s time to declare comics a separate genre. Let’s leave Spiderman and Batman to their own devices, and see if they can help the world of comic books to become as respected as their film adaptations – or enjoy the prestige of graphic novels and mangas.

You had me at, “Why did you do that?”

Over the years interactive fiction had blessed me with a variety of different feelings, like anger, frustration and delight, but I don’t think that this genre had ever disturbed me. That is, before I read “The Baron.”

The game’s premise and prose may sound cliché at first to people who read interactive fiction. There is a girl that was abducted by an “evil” baron and you as the father have to save her. On your quest you encounter a dragon in a bone filled cave – a cave and a dragon that is interestingly the beginning and the end of the tale – a forest filled with danger, a village, and of course, a ruined castle. So what is so disturbing about “The Baron” that the author had to write a disclaimer and a warning for it?” After all, it’s only a tale that is full of clichés and propagates a fairly linear plot. The answer to this question lies in the representation and consequences of your decisions.

When I was in the forest and I encountered the wolf, I decided to kill her, even though deep down I knew that she was only protecting her son. I killed her, because I knew that “my daughter” was in danger, and the fastest way to save her was to kill the wolf. I thought that trading wolf’s life for my daughter’s was a reasonable choice. I was wrong. After typing “kill wolf,” I not only had to read in gruesome detail as I killed her, but I was confronted by a gargoyle as to why I did it? That’s when the game became disturbingly intriguing, because by then it was not about the protagonist anymore, but rather it was about me. I, like the protagonist, had personal stake in the tale.

Perhaps that is why it feels wrong to place “The Baron” into the interactive fiction genre, since it offers so much more then traditional interactive fictions – like self-reflection by questioning our true selves. That is why “The Baron” had me at “Why did you do that?” and that is why I will keep an eye on this evolving genre from now on. Now lets get back to “The Baron…”