A project exploring the connections between poetry and graphic literature.

Friday, February 6, 2009

sweetn'o: an experiment with image

image only comic:


text only comic:




image-driven poem:

Sugar hisses out of the rag-torn envelopes.
As I toss them toward the trash, two fall like whirligigs to the floor--
Or white leaves with red and blue text for veins: "sweetn-o".
My hand hesitates, for what if there are slugs underneath?


image-avoiding poem:

I like my tea like I like candy:
all bad-for-you and poisoned up.
Because coffee makes me jittery, I need something else to keep me awake.
I was a barista for five years.
I've long since sworn off that kind of labor and the tasks associated with it,
so when I miss the trash and drop the empty sugar packets on the floor,
Do I really have to pick the damned things up?

"I studied myths. I even made a motto for myself."

Jeannine Hall Gailey's interview of Matthea Harvey, "Post-apocalypse, Poetry, and Robots," brings up some interesting connections between poetry, anime/manga, and lore.

When asked about her interest in Japanese pop culture and anime, Harvey mentions Hayao Miyazaki, stating, "In the same way that a strong voice in a poem can transport you anywhere, that distinctive animation style lets you surrender to the story." I have found that statement to be true in Miyazaki's works, as well as in other anime.

In anime and comics, certain images resonate for me. By this, I mean that they stick in my mind, resounding as vivid memories of the work. Certain poems do this as well. I find that these images (in both cases) can be even more resonant when they include another sense. (Alice Notley writes that "The image exists / not in the eyes.") A tactile image, a smell, a sound, any image that discovers or creates a memory feels especially effective to me. This is not surprising, as poetry is so often a form of memory. In this way, poetry, graphic literature, and anime can all act as representations, descriptions, or conjurers of memory. Of course, they could also be new, independent things, but it is still very natural for the viewer/reader to relate an image to prior experience.

Harvey specifically mentions the idea of hybrids and post-apocalyptic landscapes. One hybrid may be a cyborg, a mix between human and robot. This hybid is very clear in the theme behind her "Robo-Boy" poems, where the boy mentioned "struggles to define himself in human terms while confronting a brutal and confusing world," almost like a futuristic Pinocchio.

It is very interesting that she mentions centaurs and mermaids, as one might not usually make the connection between a centaur and a cyborg, but the connection there is actually very strong. Cyborgs and robots are creatures of lore, just as centaurs and mermaids are. Robots were originally mechanical golems. The word robot comes from the Czech robota, which means forced labor. The connection between robots and apocalypse is clear throughout science fiction, but also makes its place in the mecha or gundam genre of anime, which often involves giant, often ancient robots as tools of post-apocalyptic defense against robotic fiends, as in the anime series Gurren Lagann. This again echos apocalyptic myths where hybrid creatures battle other mythical monsters, as in The Chronicles of Narnia or the mythical battle between sibling dragon gods Bahamut and Tiamat. There is a further hybrid when robots battle monsters, as in Nausicaa of the Valley of Wind; in this case, the God-Soldier may be organic, but I still consider it a robot in the sense that the Frankenstein monster is a type of robot, only it is made of flesh rather than metal.

Even Frankenstein shows the same struggle with his humanity as Robo-Boy does when Frankenstein admires the beauty of flowers, then throws a girl into a lake. Pinocchio struggles for humanity too. Mega Man struggles for humanity in the same way Astro Boy does, by being a force of good in the world. All these robots show distinctly human sentience: they can reflect upon themselves and their experiences, they make choices, and they search for meaning in life. It is interesting that robots devised by humans are so like their creators--that humans make something so like themselves.

Harvey is methodical in her description of Robo-Boy. She states, "I wanted his own struggle about identity to be mirrored in the reader’s perceptions, I was careful not to describe his physical characteristics too much—I wanted him to shimmer between people’s ideas of what a robot looks like and what a boy looks like." She accomplishes a vivid image that has many possibilities, depending on the reader. The "strong voice" she mentions earlier in her interview transports the reader by very carefully leaving bits of the poem open to interpretation, so that the poem may act as a mirror. It this way, it is almost like a more pop-friendly medium of philosophy.

Her final comment about photography as a way of approaching invention visually. I think that this is a very accurate way of describing it.

I went more from visual arts to poetry, and applied my visual way of thinking into my process. I suppose it should only be natural to study the poetics of graphics.

Check out "Terror of the Future / 4" by Matthea Harvey

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Page 2 of Phineas Gage

Oh, Phineas, what has happened to you?

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

On a somewhat related matter


Just for fun, I'm posting this comic I did for my Self Identity and the Mind-Brain Question class. It is based on a true story. This is page 1. It was drawn improvisationally in about an hour, so it's not exactly demonstrative of my best illustration skills. But it's still informative and amusing.

Enjoy!