This business of different media being suited to telling different kinds of stories is a fascinating one. The difference is quite obvious when people make movies of books. They are simply not the same.
In the case of movies vs novels, I believe that the base difference is that a movie is addressed to the senses, whereas a novel is addressed to memory. In this sense, the novel is able to bypass the raw input processing of the senses and thus create a more guided experience, balancing immediacy and reflection in ways a movie cannot achieve.
Insofar as graphic novels occupy some kind of half way house between the two, it raises an interesting question of the extent to which they are addressed to the senses vs. addressed to memory. The case of expressing the broken bottle with the visual and relying on the reader to supply the sound is a case of appealing to memory. But the rest of the scene is an appeal to the senses.
Of course, the senses themselves rely on memory in order to make sense of what they see. It is never all sense and no memory. But a novel quiets the senses in a way that allows reflection and experience to operate simultaneously, producing a unique artistic experience. I suspect that a graphic novel does not mute the senses enough to have that effect.
A movie, on the other hand, can bombard the senses in a way that will come close to quieting memory and casting the viewer into an immediacy of noise and light. The graphic novel cannot do that either.
Does this mean that the graphic novel falls between two stools? Or does it mean that it discovers its own fine balance of sense and memory? The former most of the time, in my experience, but maybe the Bill Waterson examples make the case for its ability to do the latter on occasion.
Sometimes it seems that the graphic novel has an unfortunate "worst-of-both-worlds" quality to it; there are certainly very many which don't strike the balance you mention. I've also read many graphic novels where, afterward, I felt like I didn't know why the story was presented graphically; it could have been a prose novel just fine, or it would have been much better if the action sequences had been filmed.
Your theory about sense vs. memory seems like it might be a good track for further contemplation. However, what do you think of the prevalence of fantasy novels with battle scenes in them, which seem so enormously popular these days? I remember getting bored out of my mind reading the final battle in 'The Return of the King," and it's an acknowledged classic. Not to mention the sex scenes which seem almost obligatory in modern literary fiction. Some books do the sex scenes very well, though, but some are just epically cringe.
An earlier draft of this essay had a long passage discussing how graphic novels seem to address themes of loneliness and isolation with greater-than-expected frequency. I might write more on how and why that kind of story is handled in the comics medium.
I'm with you on battle scenes. In my new novel, Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight, my protagonist, Isabel, who kills the elf knight and then, through using his tools, becomes the elf maiden, kills dozens of knights in battle. I show only one of these, and that only briefly. Because battle itself is boring.
And yes, that section of The Return of the King is just deadly dull. LOTR itself is such a mixture of the sublime and the absurd. The sublime bits definitely deserve classic status. But they are no reason for forgiving the absurdities, not to mention the many elements and subplots that have nothing to do with the main narrative or its themes.
I'm with you too on sex scenes. There is potential literary interest in everything that leads up to the act, and in everything that follows, but the act itself is of no literary interest. Another kind of interest perhaps, but not literary. (Speaking of which, the "good bits" of Lady Chatterley's Lover may actually have been the good bits, because the rest of the book is egregiously dull.)
Physical conflict, and the sexual act, are both releases of tension. But the art of fiction lies in the maintenance of tension. Will they/won't they has far more tension, and thus far more interest, than look at them do it.
Still, modern literary fiction tends to loose me in its pretension and condescension and existential grimness before I ever reach the sex scenes.
If you ever do decide to devote some of your critical energy to an analysis of graphic novels, McCloud's "Understanding Comics" is the perfect entry point, and I daresay it might convert you.
Wordless stories are wonderful but they're space-intensive and drawing-intensive, and certain kinds of literary detail are impossible for them to convey. You end up showing people holding letters or shots of screens to fill the gaps. It may or may not be the right challenge, depending on the story. Nevetheless I'm a huge Masereel fan.
Another aspect worth considering is more integration of type and image. I played with that approach here. https://regardingth.at/
Agree with your criticisms of wordless stories. Let us hope they are problems to be solved, not insurmountable obstacles. I felt like Masereel's "The Passion of a Man" (the only work of his available at the library at time of writing this essay) was beautifully executed but expected too much from the reader. I would love to see more of his work.
Your piece reminds me of many of Edward Gorey's works in it's merging of words / captions and images. Gorey was very meticulous in his concern of the typographical details of his stories; usually he used custom hand lettering as well.
This business of different media being suited to telling different kinds of stories is a fascinating one. The difference is quite obvious when people make movies of books. They are simply not the same.
In the case of movies vs novels, I believe that the base difference is that a movie is addressed to the senses, whereas a novel is addressed to memory. In this sense, the novel is able to bypass the raw input processing of the senses and thus create a more guided experience, balancing immediacy and reflection in ways a movie cannot achieve.
Insofar as graphic novels occupy some kind of half way house between the two, it raises an interesting question of the extent to which they are addressed to the senses vs. addressed to memory. The case of expressing the broken bottle with the visual and relying on the reader to supply the sound is a case of appealing to memory. But the rest of the scene is an appeal to the senses.
Of course, the senses themselves rely on memory in order to make sense of what they see. It is never all sense and no memory. But a novel quiets the senses in a way that allows reflection and experience to operate simultaneously, producing a unique artistic experience. I suspect that a graphic novel does not mute the senses enough to have that effect.
A movie, on the other hand, can bombard the senses in a way that will come close to quieting memory and casting the viewer into an immediacy of noise and light. The graphic novel cannot do that either.
Does this mean that the graphic novel falls between two stools? Or does it mean that it discovers its own fine balance of sense and memory? The former most of the time, in my experience, but maybe the Bill Waterson examples make the case for its ability to do the latter on occasion.
Sometimes it seems that the graphic novel has an unfortunate "worst-of-both-worlds" quality to it; there are certainly very many which don't strike the balance you mention. I've also read many graphic novels where, afterward, I felt like I didn't know why the story was presented graphically; it could have been a prose novel just fine, or it would have been much better if the action sequences had been filmed.
Your theory about sense vs. memory seems like it might be a good track for further contemplation. However, what do you think of the prevalence of fantasy novels with battle scenes in them, which seem so enormously popular these days? I remember getting bored out of my mind reading the final battle in 'The Return of the King," and it's an acknowledged classic. Not to mention the sex scenes which seem almost obligatory in modern literary fiction. Some books do the sex scenes very well, though, but some are just epically cringe.
An earlier draft of this essay had a long passage discussing how graphic novels seem to address themes of loneliness and isolation with greater-than-expected frequency. I might write more on how and why that kind of story is handled in the comics medium.
I'm with you on battle scenes. In my new novel, Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight, my protagonist, Isabel, who kills the elf knight and then, through using his tools, becomes the elf maiden, kills dozens of knights in battle. I show only one of these, and that only briefly. Because battle itself is boring.
And yes, that section of The Return of the King is just deadly dull. LOTR itself is such a mixture of the sublime and the absurd. The sublime bits definitely deserve classic status. But they are no reason for forgiving the absurdities, not to mention the many elements and subplots that have nothing to do with the main narrative or its themes.
I'm with you too on sex scenes. There is potential literary interest in everything that leads up to the act, and in everything that follows, but the act itself is of no literary interest. Another kind of interest perhaps, but not literary. (Speaking of which, the "good bits" of Lady Chatterley's Lover may actually have been the good bits, because the rest of the book is egregiously dull.)
Physical conflict, and the sexual act, are both releases of tension. But the art of fiction lies in the maintenance of tension. Will they/won't they has far more tension, and thus far more interest, than look at them do it.
Still, modern literary fiction tends to loose me in its pretension and condescension and existential grimness before I ever reach the sex scenes.
I see the potential to analyze comics in the same way I've been looking into Hitchcock right now. Unfortunately, I don't care much for them.
If you ever do decide to devote some of your critical energy to an analysis of graphic novels, McCloud's "Understanding Comics" is the perfect entry point, and I daresay it might convert you.
Wordless stories are wonderful but they're space-intensive and drawing-intensive, and certain kinds of literary detail are impossible for them to convey. You end up showing people holding letters or shots of screens to fill the gaps. It may or may not be the right challenge, depending on the story. Nevetheless I'm a huge Masereel fan.
Another aspect worth considering is more integration of type and image. I played with that approach here. https://regardingth.at/
Agree with your criticisms of wordless stories. Let us hope they are problems to be solved, not insurmountable obstacles. I felt like Masereel's "The Passion of a Man" (the only work of his available at the library at time of writing this essay) was beautifully executed but expected too much from the reader. I would love to see more of his work.
Your piece reminds me of many of Edward Gorey's works in it's merging of words / captions and images. Gorey was very meticulous in his concern of the typographical details of his stories; usually he used custom hand lettering as well.
Artist friend drew a lovely ‘wordless’ story some of which can be viewed here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B011BH9O70/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i1. The absence of words in this tale really works. It can be a powerful medium. Thanks for the article, William.
You're quite welcome!