Spider-Man mixes it up

So, so bad. But funny. I wonder how many hours I spent watching this stuff as a kid.

Michel Rabagliati's Paul Books

I discovered Paul thanks to Free Comic Book Day in 2005. I picked up a small comic called Paul in the Metro, and read a lovely story about a young Montreal teen visiting his dad at work and taking public transit out to La Ronde, the amusement park on the site of the Expo '67 World Fair.

I loved it. Part of the reason I loved it was how familiar it was. I grew up in Montreal. I'm a few years younger than Paul, but close enough that his experiences seemed awfully similar to mine.

I'd forgotten that little comic until I recently ran across Paul Has a Summer Job (Paul's first full-length graphic novel, set in 1979). and Paul Moves Out (set in 1983).

The creator of the books is Michel Rabagliati, a graphic designer turned comic-book writer and artist, and Paul is his semi-autobiographical creation.

Rabagliati has a talent for telling slice-of-life stories that are funny, touching and moving, without being sentimental. There is nothing that extraordinary about Paul. He's just a normal guy, doing normal things -- like painting a new apartment, babysitting, and studying for his career. What makes these books work is how Rabagliati tells these everyday stories within the context of crucial periods in his character's life.

After I finished my second Paul book, I found myself wondering how he does it. In the hands of someone less talented, these books would be dull. But they're not. They are true-to-life and delightful, and what makes them work, I think, must be their sincerity and simplicity. Their strength lies in their sincerity, and that sincerity is reflected in the clean lines of the artwork.

Besides, you've got to (or at least I've got to) love a graphic novel that spends a whole two pages paying tribute to Captain Haddock, ending with the words, "Hergé was a genius."

Recent comics reading

I've been reading some excellent graphic novels and comics. I'll write a bit about them over the next few days.

Moomin: The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip, vos 1 and 2
Tove Jansson was a brilliant writer and artist, and for five years she produced a daily comic strip about the Moomins and the other residents of Moomin Valley. (She had already been writing books about them.) The comic strips are now being collected together in what is going to be a series of five books, published by Drawn and Quarterly.

I picked up these books without knowing anything about them - and they were great. I enjoyed them, and so did two of my kids (ages 14 and 11 -- my eight-year-old was not crazy about the Moomins).

The stories centre on Moomin, his parents, his sort-of girlfriend Snork Maiden, and a cast of characters who come in and out of the stories. There is Snufkin, a quiet wanderer; Little My, who causes lots of mischief; Sniff, who is always looking for new ways to make money fast -- and many others.

The Moomins seem most interested in eating, sleeping, and pretend and real adventures.

I think what makes these stories work so well is the combination of simple drawings, characters who are childlike, whether or not they are children, and humour based on misunderstandings that build and build -- like the time the Moomins stay at a fancy hotel, but have no idea they are supposed to pay. They think the suite is too big, and they build a tent in their four-poster bed. They order oatmeal for breakfast and pay extra for it because it is not on the regular men. And when it comes time to pay, they use Snork Maiden's casino winnings, which up until then were so unimportant to her, she had forgotten where she put the money.

One of my favourite characters only appears in one story. His name is Mr. Brisk, and he arrives in the valley full of energy and enthusiasm for winter sports. The Moomins are roly-poly characters who like to sleep a lot. Mr. Brisk organizes skating parties and ski competitions, and tells them that the "time for leisure is over Moomins!". I love that idea. That participating in sports is different from leisure.

Is there an editor in the house?

Today's Globe and Mail offers a "Video Pick" saying fans of Tintin are celebrating the 100th anniversary of Tintin creator Hergé's birth. (The copy calls him Herge -- because apparently there are no accents available to G&M Web editors.)

I almost never click on these things, but today I did.

And I got to see a report on how the Tintin books no longer have an Arabic publisher, so fans in Egypt, where the books are popular, have to read them in French. There was also the usual discussion of whether or not the books are racist. (Conclusion: maybe.)

Walt and Skeezix

I have been reading comics from 1921 to 1924 the last few weeks. They are early strips of Gasoline Alley, collected in two books called Walt and Skeezix, and published by Drawn and Quarterly.

The comics feature the residents of Gasoline Alley, in Chicago, and are from the early days of a comics saga that would carry on for decades, with the characters aging in real time. If I look at Hagar the Horrible today, it is pretty much the same (and just as awful) as when I was a kid. Gasoline Alley is not like that. It was the first comic to have its characters grow older, year by year.

I love these comics, and I have been trying to figure out why. They can be funny, but mostly they are very gentle. Unlike other comics you might describe as gentle though (Family Circus?) they are almost never sappy or sentimental. The stories move slowly and gracefully, and even though they are clearly set in another time (just look at the cars) they still seem very familiar. I don't feel like I'm reading something written almost 90 years ago.

Drawn and Quarterly have committed to producing many of these collections (unbelievably, almost none of the Gasoline Alley comics had ever been published in book form before). The books themselves are beautiful, including essays on creator Frank King and his work and some truly amazing old family photos. Plus they come with endnotes that help point out little extras a reader like me might not notice (like the Skeezix doll in one of the panels).

The books are normally priced at $39.95 in Canada, but I noticed on the Drawn and Quarterly online store that they are now selling for $29.95. It is a bargain.

Zippy goes all alternative weekly

I think Bill Griffith is bang-on with this Zipppy the Pinhead comic -- taking the piss out of so many lousy comics that run in "alternative" weeklies (many of which are owned by very well-funded corporations, including those running daily newspapers). And he does it all in three little panels, with only 8 words. Brilliant.

Randomness and bad art are poor substitutes for humour.

Amazingly (especially given his predilection for adopting a variety of drawing styles when it suits the comic), Griffith reports that he got emails from readers wondering if "I'd abandoned my usual drawing style for the trendy minimalist look."

If you are a Zippy fan, make sure to sign up for the strip of the day, and get the ol' Zipster delivered straight to your inbox daily. If you want more from me, I wrote about Zippy (briefly) in this post.

Thanks to Bill Griffith for permission to post the comic.

Late 60s Spiderman

Posted this on my other blog, but I figured it belongs here too.

I recently read a collection of old Spiderman comics, dating from the 60s. This was the era that gave birth to lots of the villains who've been in Spidey's world ever since (or until recently). I'm talking about sweethearts like Doc Oc, the Green Goblin, the Kingpin and Kraven the Hunter.

There are also tons of totally forgettable villains who appear for an issue or two and never come back again. Guys like Blackie Drago, aka the second Vulture.

A few things really struck me about these comics.

1. The stories are set in New York City, but it's a New York with no Jews and almost no Blacks.
2. Inventiveness! Stan Lee and his gang could come up with villain after villain after villain. Awesome.
3. Boy Peter Parker spends an awful lot of time worrying about poor, frail Aunt May.
   
4. Sound effects. When I write the Daisy Dreamer comic I am not great at doing sound effects. They wind up being things like "Pop!" But Stan Lee -- Stan Lee strings letters together that look crazy on the page, but work as sounds. Words like Bzok! and Spanng! and Btok! I think reading the sound effects was the most fun I had with these comics.
   

And now, just for fun, someone's list of Spidey's 21 worst villains here.

IKEA gets instructions right

I have been putting together a bunch of IKEA furniture. One thing that truly impresses me is how clear the directions are -- and all with no words. The instructions actually seem to me to be closer in form to comics than anything else.

Bad directions can be incredibly frustrating. Take the LED lantern we bought -- the one that has only one switch "On/Off" but still manages, in its broken English and sentence fragments to be utterly confusing. (Does it mean you should store it fully charged? Or is it warning you that if you store it fully charged it will drain over time?).

IKEA on the other hand, offers clear drawings that even someone like me -- not especially technically competent and generally preferring words to pictures -- can follow. Last night I assembled the futon couch. The instructions contained one word: "Click." But it all went together pretty smoothly.

Other companies should be taking lessons from these guys.

Kiss vs Planet of the Apes

Some very fun artwork here for "the greatest film/book/comic never (yet) made!" The idea comes from Mike Drake of Strange Adventures.

I hope someone is working on a development deal.

Pyongyang

I have just finished reading a fantastic graphic novel called Pyongyang, by Guy Delisle. I would recommend the book for anyone age 12 or over.

Pyongyang is the capital of North Korea -- one of the most secretive countries in the world. Not many people are allowed to visit, and if you do go, you have very little freedom to travel while you are there.

The book tells the story of Guy Delisle's stay of a few months in North Korea. He was in there working on an animated TV series. (A lot of people don't realize that much of the animation they see on TV is done in Asia where hiring animators is cheap.)

What I really like about Pyongyang is that it doesn't try to make any big political statements. It's almost like a diary. But in writing and drawing about what he saw and felt. Delisle gives us a portrait of North Korea that's different from anything else I have read. He spends a lot of time with his guide, driver, and translator, without ever really getting to know them -- and trying to figure out if they really believe the outrageous things they tell him about the Korean regime. At the same time, there are some funny sequences of cultural misunderstandings in which Delisle is trying to get across to his animators what changes he needs made to scenes.

I realized that comics was the perfect form for this book. Delisle would not have been allowed to photograph a lot of the places he visited. Comics are great for doing journalism (like Joe Sacco's books) and for memoirs (like Persepolis). Pyongyang is a bit of both.

The book also reminded me of the Tintin comics (and not just because it mentions Tintin). It is clearly influenced by Tintin creator Hergé's clear-line style, and Delisle draws himself with a bit of a quiff -- hair sticking up at the front of his head -- which cannot be a coincidence.

(Cross-posted from Daisy Chains.)