Serious, funny, frightening and sexy by turns, the graphic novel
has never been taken too seriously in academic circles, with the
possible exception of 1992’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Maus, a
harrowing tale of survival in World War II Poland.
Serious, funny, frightening and sexy by turns, the graphic novel has never been taken too seriously in academic circles, with the possible exception of 1992’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Maus, a harrowing tale of survival in World War II Poland.
But a fresh crop of intelligent, soulful and moving memoirs is sparking renewed interest in the art form, once relegated to comic and adult book stores.
In 2003, Marjane Satrapi used the format to detail her childhood in Iran during the Cultural Revolution to critical acclaim. The book was named “Notable” by the New York Times upon its translation to English. And French cartoonist David B., whose work has been celebrated in Europe, also has a book out in the United States.
“Epileptic” is the artist’s memoir of growing up with his epileptic brother in tow, recounting their challenges and heartaches, and how those events shaped his career as an artist.
Not everything is so serious, though. The term graphic novel applies to book-length comics with a continuity of theme.
They tell a story, whether it is about the adventures of Ultimate Spiderman, a Japanese story revolving around soft porn or a complex tale of survival against all odds through cultural revolutions and Nazi occupation.
In other words, the graphic novel truly defies any simple category. Relegated to the comics’ section for much of the genre’s existence, many “graphic novels” are simply reprinted anthologies of previous comics known in the industry as trade paperbacks.
“Graphic novels are really my enemy,” said Bill Mifsud, owner of Bill’s Bullpen in Hollister. “If I order a comic and it turns out to be really hot, I’ll generally sell out. After that, first edition prints are a lot more valuable, but the person who gets into the comic midstream and just wants to know the history will buy a trade paperback.”
A pleasure collector – someone who enjoys reading comics but does not buy them for their resale value – is more likely to pick up a $25 trade paperback with 10 issues than to spend $150 or $160 for the first five issues of a popular series, said Mifsud.
It cuts into his profit lines, but he said he’d still rather carry the books in his store.
“It’s a crapshoot,” said Mifsud. “You don’t really know what’s going to be hot, and you don’t want to order too much because most of the stock isn’t returnable, so I either eat it, sell it or trade it. I’d rather carry a trade paperback than tell someone I don’t have what they’re looking for, because at least they walk out having bought something.”
The other major reason Mifsud said he carried trade paperbacks was due to the popularity of the Japanese comic style known as manga. In Japan, the term refers
to any type of printed cartoon, and the popular audience for cartoons is much larger.
Some manga is aimed at small children while other books feature notably adult and even heavily pornographic themes, but individual issues are not translated and published for U.S. audiences. Instead, they are compiled and sold strictly as trade paperbacks.
The most popular version of the comics for import and distribution in the United States are stories featuring violence and soft porn elements that are aimed at the teen market.
“It’s just like a comic, but they’re not comics like you and I think of them,” said Gary Caviglia, lead bookseller at the Barnes & Noble in Gilroy. “That’s one thing I like to stress to the parents. These aren’t like the comics you and I had when we were kids. It’s a good thing for them to check the comics out before their kids read them.”
Teen appropriate comics are stored in the teen section, but in the hours after 3pm, Caviglia said he would find groups of teens reading in the graphic novel section of the bookstore at large.
Perhaps, if only by accident, they will stumble across something a bit thought provoking, too.
