It's a well-worn story by now. The comic book started off as a truly maligned product of the Great Depression. After World War II, comic books in the U.S. explored a number of different genres. One of the most popular was the crime comic book. With their abundant violence and apparent celebration of a criminal lifestyle, crime comics became a kind of stand-in for the whole medium, and an increasingly well-organized attack on comic books eventually (with a number of ironic reversals along the way) took the form of the Comic Book Code in 1954. The Comic Book Code a truly demanding self-censorship code that (along with the introduction of television) relegated comic books to the lowbrow. Flash forward thirty years, and we find in the 1980s the introduction of the comic book reborn: the graphic novel.
The graphic novel was (and remains) the new, more adult comic book. Graphic novels wore their cultural aspirations on their mylar sleeves, with fancy art and 'adult' themes. There is probably no better example of what the 'graphic novel' was about than Art Spiegelman's MAUS. Released in the late 1980s, MAUS enjoyed glorious praise for addressing the Holocaust through the form of a comic book. It was widely reviewed in magazines and newspapers throughout the U.S. (and would win a Pulitzer Prize for literature). The classic review went somewhat as follows: "We all know that comic books used to be about superheroes and silliness. This new graphic novel is about the Holocaust, and shows us that comic books can be better than we ever thought. MAUS has, effectively, breathed new life into the medium of comix."
For the critics, MAUS became nothing less than the redemption of a medium (mind you: a medium that few of those critics had bothered to notice before they picked up MAUS). I have nothing bad to say about MAUS, but it is difficult for any single work (graphic novel or whatever) to prop up an entire medium, and this reaction to MAUS has become a broader theme in comic book criticism.
So, when newspapers and magazines (I'm thinking in particular of the NY Times book review) feature reviews of comic books, their reviews often favor those works that seem least like what comic books supposedly used to be. It gets frustrating, seeing the same old "comic books aren't just for kids anymore" observation 20 years after the 'MAUS moment'.
The recent graphic novel that most clearly benefited from the fawning MAUS effect on comic book criticism was Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi. For those who do not know, Persepolis is an autobiographical tale about the author's growing up in pre-revolution Iran, moving to Switzerland during the Iran-Iraq war, and returning to Iran afterward. It has recently been turned into a (more or less well-reviewed) feature film.
Something bugs me about this, but before I get on what bugs me, allow me to set the record straight: I think MAUS is great. I also very much enjoyed Persepolis in graphic novel and movie form. But even though I find myself in agreement with the consensus that these are amongst the salvageable (even essential) graphic novels of our time, I cringe when I read the reviews of these works. Because what I see in the criticism involving these works is a kind of lazy criticism, which relies on assumptions that don't work. Specifically:
a) the assumption that comic books have always been 'bad', and then got saved when critics started noticing them. Why do I disagree? Because it turns about 50 years of comic book art into something that can be comfortably blown off. This, in turn, buys into familiar (and all-too-easily mocked) assumptions about the separateness of high and low culture.
b) the assumption that 'serious' themes make great art. This is classic middle-brow stuff. As if the "very special episode" of tv's "Facts of Life" is probably going to be better art than other episodes of "Facts of Life." Or as if Jerry Lewis's almost unseen movie about the Holocaust is better than other Jerry Lewis movies. Giving a pass to culture that deals with 'issues' is not good criticism. Points for good intentions can be saved for different arenas. It only insults comics all the more when critics fawn over 'issues'-related graphic novels.
So: do I HATE Persepolis? No. I thought it was pretty good. But I find it disappointing that commentary about it (as graphic novel and as movie) dealt with the supposed novelty of graphic novels that touch on serious themes, instead of dealing with: the quality of the draftsmanship, the writing of the dialogue, the pacing of the story, the decision to use black & white, the autobiographical mode in comics in general, Satrapi's own voice, and much else.
Talk about getting upset about small things...
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