| The New Adventures of Abraham Lincoln |
U.S. | |
| Scott McCloud |
Steve Darnall and Alex Ross | |
| Homage, 129 pages |
DC Comics/Vertigo, 2 books |
|
A review by Glen Engel-Cox
Scott McCloud is now best known for his landmark work Understanding Comics, a self-help book for the
sequentially challenged. Although not as technically detailed as Will Eisner's Comics and Sequential
Art, Understanding Comics is unique in that it uses the medium which it purports to
explain. It is the perfect introduction for bewildered spouses and mystified parents. Before
this, McCloud was garnering acclaim for his independent comic, Zot!, a fun comic that also contained
some sneaky questioning of the superhero trope and insights into the teen psyche hidden amongst
its brightly colored panels. The New Adventures is also brightly colored and drawn in McCloud's
easily recognizable style -- it also has teens as its viewpoint characters and their experiences
are as wild and unbelievable as any in Zot! But the resemblance ends there. Zot! was an ongoing
series with plots picking up and trailing away, sometimes willy nilly, as its creator battled the
monthly schedule. New Adventures is self contained, with a structure and pace designed
for its space of pages.
Following Understanding Comics, McCloud invested in a Macintosh, and Further Adventures was
done entirely through the use of the computer -- in some cases creating interesting montages of
scanned photos and drawn figures. In this case, as in the case of Shatter, the first comic done
entirely on a computer, the artwork seems gimmicky. McCloud's figures, in particular due to their
clean lines, seem out-of-place with the highly detailed nature of scanned backgrounds. Like seeing
Mickey Mouse with Gene Kelly or Roger Rabbit with Bob Hoskins, the viewer is uncomfortably aware
of the differences. In the movies, the interaction between the live actors and the drawings help
to bridge our suspension of disbelief; McCloud, unfortunately, doesn't have this option.
While the art may not have been entirely successful, McCloud more than makes up for it through
his story. Byron is a young boy in a high school which pays lip service to education, relying
instead on rote memorization of well worn clichés. A smart reader, Byron shows a little too
much initiative in history class and gets sent to detention. While there, Abraham Lincoln
arrives explosively and whisks Byron off on a magic American flag tour of history. The
problem, however, is that the version of history shown is as full of clichés as Byron's
class. McCloud's message -- and believe me you won't miss it, as it permeates this graphic
novel -- is that slogans and blind faith were not the building blocks of our nation, yet seem
to be perceived as a definition of patriotism. Instead, by using the life of Abraham Lincoln
as an example, he says that history is much more rich than the prevailing clichés and that true
patriotism is not blind worship of a symbol (i.e., a flag), but understanding what the symbol
stands for. Yes, it has been said before, but McCloud's method is unique and nicely done.
In contrast, U.S. seems much darker and pessimistic. I do not want to term McCloud frothy or
frivolous, although given his light and airy artistic touch, it looks so on the surface. Just
because it is drawn simply, do not assume it is simplistic. And one should not necessarily
assume the reverse -- sometimes the most detailed drawings belie the most banal message. Ross'
artwork is almost the antithesis of McCloud's; instead of using computer scans, Ross paints
every panel, doing figure work from photographs (a technique I associate with the Hildebrandt
brothers, but which is widely utilized), creating almost Norman Rockwell-ish images. Rockwell is
an apt comparison, for he was often a portrayer of the American dream, and U.S. is in many ways
an update of what America is and where it is heading.
Darnall's script starts suddenly, as we are introduced to a amnesiac street bum with a
white goatee resembling the Thomas Nash portrait of Uncle Sam.
Sam, as we learn to call him, doesn't seem quite tied to the present day, and his reference
point shifts back and forth from the present time to scenes of America's past. A reader can
take Sam in one of two ways; you can read him as a schizophrenic or you can see him as the
embodiment of the United States.
This strange juxtaposition of narrative viewpoint is often seen in prose in the works of magic
realists, and Darnall succeeds with it in a comic better than I would have expected.
Like McCloud's graphic novel, U.S. wants the reader to confront our history, to realize that
times were not always as peachy keen as the school history books portray them, and that, while
we may have problems in our country today, to retreat behind clichés and blind patriotism is
no solution. Darnall especially wants us to take a long look at our media, and how quick
sound bites make short shrift of important events. All readers will not necessarily agree
with Darnall's picture of the American past and present, but he does make one think about
the subject, which is his overall objective.
Of the two graphic novels, Darnall's is the more serious, the more personal, and the more
successful. His writing and Ross' art are quite complementary, achieving much more than
either would have without the other. McCloud's work, while interesting, fights with itself,
like the horror movie in which a character tells a joke in the midst of the suspense. The
combination is not always effective. Both graphic novels are worthy of attention, welcome
additions to a medium too often concerned with bulging biceps and endowed bosoms rather than
thoughtful commentary on the state of the union.
Glen Engel-Cox is the creator of FIRST IMPRESSIONS, one of the first and most well-established SF review sites on the Web. |
|
|
If you find any errors, typos or anything else worth mentioning,
please send it to editor@sfsite.com.
Copyright © 1996-2013 SF Site All Rights Reserved Worldwide