Introduction

How the conversation started, I cannot remember, but it began with Sophie Crumb. Val and I were regaling each other with our knowledge of the comic world. I told her about readily accessible online comics (diverse and free of charge) and she shared with me Sophie Crumb, the daughter of two well-known comic artists. Val told me about the Aline Kominsky-Crumb's Need More Love and Robert Crumb's Weirdo. Need More Love introduced me to the world of autobiographical graphic novels.

Theme and Readership

Autobiographical graphic novels (AGN) are comics that are complex and individualistic. These comics invite the reader to take a seat behind the eyes of the artist as s/he explains their personal history or the history of those around them to an unseen audience. AGNs for adults reveals and contemplates the black and white as well as the grey areas of human nature. The styles of adult AGNs range from shocking, illustrative, realistic to surreal, and yet, this does not describe the entire array of this genre. In the case of this theme in context to the presented readership, the adult section of autobiographical graphic novels is thus stated for the benefit of social institutions (libraries and schools) who cater to an audience who feel that particular themes (whether image or content) are not appropriate for children and youth.

Search and Sources

Searching for AGNs began with a Google search. To understand the depth and breadth of the topic I chose, I needed to find additional information that could give me some history on the topic. There were two Wikipedia links presented. The first Wikipedia entry on autobiographical graphic novels provided a  list of comics with no other introduction, body or conclusion, however the second Wikipedia link gave some description of the comic genre. However, the Wikipedia entry was not titled autobiographical graphic novels, but autobiographical comics. This particular entry provided a detailed list from each decade since the 70s. It was from this list that I checked out the local regional library system for available AGNs. Google also connected me with an Amazon user's list of AGNs. The user had enjoyed such AGNs as Persepolis, Fun House and Blankets thus created a list of other AGNs available through Amazon. Naseen Hrab's bibliography list was also informative. Since I needed to find a list of graphic novels, I found The 101 Best Graphic Novels at the library, which provided an extensive list of various genres of graphic novels.

Criteria for Search

My initial search criteria was simple; what can I get my hands on? Since I was not purchasing any books but accessing books through the library system, my criteria was based on what I could access through these systems. I was unsure of the breath and depth of the genre and to be safe placed holds on available items. For the most part, I was able to obtain the titles I placed holds on, however, I did notice a trend in my search. Most titles that were accessible were based on three themes (or a variation of these themes): personal conflict and war. 

Available Material

Typing in the search word "autobiographical graphic novels" did not work at times and I had to resort to looking at a list of graphic novels in general and googling the title to gather more information about the graphic novel. When the first search term ran out of results, I switched to "autobiographical comics." Although there were many titles out there (under both terms), I could only resort to titles that were in the library systems I borrowed from. Luckily, because I commute between a town and a city, I had access to three library systems. Access was not straightforward because, depending on the popularity of the title, I would either receive the book immediately or place a hold and wait. AGNs for adults have been available to the public since the 70s and creating and publishing in this particular genre is still quite current. Although they have been publishing for several decades, AGNs are now garnering attention in mainstream comics. AGNs for adults will never go out of style. Naseem Hrab sums up the genre when he

"equates reading an autobiographical comic with the occurrence of a stranger handing you his diary, staring meaningfully into your eyes and saying, "I want you to read this...all of it. Oh, and just so you know, I drew pictures of everything that happened, too." (p.2)

 As long as there are writers for this genre, there will always be readers...

Evaluation of a Bibliography

Epileptic  by David B.

This graphic novel, written by David B., born Pierre-François Beauchard, is an autobiography the author growing up with an epileptic brother. The comic portrays the effect of the illness on the author but also on the lives of the parents and sister. But the story is more than just a portrayal; it is an invitation to see the inner struggles of a middle brother relating to his brother and his brother's illness, dealing with his family's attempts to heal his brother's illness and lastly, trying to make sense of himself in context to the entire situation. David B. comes to terms with his brother's illness by the end of the graphic novel. At the end, the author and his brother speak together of their struggle with the illness and of their personal stories before the seizures. Whether out of his imagination or taken from life, the ending conversation between the two brothers contrasts from the conflicting dialogue the two share throughout the story. David B. concludes that his art, dark and violent, has been a means of understanding his brother's  seizures. Heavy shadows and dark creatures created  alongside with the personified character of his brother's illness are used to tell the story. As the author comes to terms with his brother seizures, this is transfered over into his art, and the landscape, characters and patterns become less. The details of each panel become less complex, less crowded and more singular. The author's brother, Jean-Christopher was not the only one to influence his brother's art. The most notable of David B.'s influences are Georges Pichard and Jacques Tardi, however, in the graphic novel, David B. makes references to other influences such as the stories his parents told him, the stories of his grandparents, the history books he read at his grandparents place and stories from esoteric writers.

But what significant does Epileptic (L'Ascension du Haut Mal) have within the history autobiographical graphic novel genre? Its  most exceptional feature is the seamless connection between words and image; the use of imagery to enhance and continue the story forward. Gordon Mcalpin perhaps states it best when he writes that Epileptic, "transcends literalist storytelling techniques, employing nonrepresentational imagery to convey larger truths than any filmic reconstruction could manage." There is a balance between the words and images but for the most part, the story springs out the images. Epileptic has been compared with Spiegelman's Maus and Eisner's Contract with God (Foyles Review). Perhaps it comes as no surprise that David B. was also the mentor and teacher of Marjane Satrapi, the creator of Persepolis (Wolk 2005)). But this book is suited for adults with its themes of spiritualism, despair and exploration of the unknown.

As David B. illustrates the chaos the seizures has on his brother, his family and himself, he also creates order within the story through panels and gutters. However, there are several instances in the story where there are no panels or gutters, and it is here that the semblance of order that the author creates with rigidly structured panels is lost. This is particularly illustrated in a two page spread (see example below) where David B. speaks about the stories he wrote on the weekends, that when reread, made no sense, and had a "feverish confused quality to these stories, they mainly comprise a bulwark against sorrow." This is illustrated with the lack of panels and the characters of this stories are placed all over the page. The narrative boxes appear to give some sense of order, although this may be a false sense of order since they are scroll-like boxes, thus no rigid shape.

Panels arranged create order, but within the panels themselves illustrated disorder resides. Fighting at all levels is woven throughout the story. Fascinated by war, David B. battles the epilepsy that has invaded his family's life. Epilepsy, in the form of a intricately designed serpent, is shown consuming Jean-Christopher at various levels. There are moments in the narrative where David B. sees no difference between the serpent and his brother. They have become one. Armor is also another prevalent aspect to the story. David B. draws armor, draws soldiers in armor, is shown in armor, and at one point in the story, makes himself a suit of armor. His narration speaks of armor as a protection against his family's eccentric attempts to cure Jean-Christopher's illness, his brother and his epilepsy. However at one point, even the armor cannot protect him from loneliness.

The entire book of Epileptic is set in black and white, except for the yellow used on the cover of both the English and French versions. There could be several reasons Epileptic is set in black and white. Showing contrast within the story, representations of good verses evil, but perhaps the main reason is because of the incredible detail of the drawings themselves. Introduction of color would perhaps overpower the readers sight and draw attention away from the imagery itself. David B. takes advantage of depth perception, showing lengthly shadows, landscape shots, and minuscule detail of close ups. However, one must note that the English version of the book is a smaller version of the French print and may have an affect on the reading of the graphic novel. Originally published in four 7.5" x 10.2" volumes, the English version was sized down to a more comfortable 6.8" x 8.9" size. Mcalip makes note that the smaller size of the graphic novel has left out some of the more intricate lines of B.'s illustrations, but the exchange is worthwhile.

The arrangement of the panels within Epileptic are similar to the serpent-like seizures that plague Jean-Christopher. Most of the panels follow an order. Yet it appears when the fighting and the chaos in the panels becomes too overwhelming, it shoves the panels out of order and creates its own pattern, its own sense of order. There are several instances where the picture bleeds to the edge of the page. This appears more so around the end of the book when David B.'s armor appears to lose its relevance in adulthood. And there are pages where the bleeding happens within the panels (see right).

Since Epileptic covers several decades, David B. summarizes each situation with an introduction and then a reflection of self to those situations. However, there are some happenings that B. illustrates moment by moment (McCloud 70) to connect with the statement made. For instance, "every day we know we're going to be confronted by his illness," is illustrated moment by moment in an entire page (see left). This is a common method B. uses in illustrating the every day placing of epilepsy in their lives, from the privacy of their home to the outside of home and the scrutiny of the public.

A second method B. uses just as much as moment by moment paneling is subject by subject paneling. The point of of this style of paneling is the subject stays within the scene or idea. McCloud points out that a "degree of reader involvement [is] necessary to render these transitions meaninful" (71). There are several styles of paneling found in Epileptic, however, these two panel styles are the most used. The drawing style is perhaps the defining point of Epileptic. Intricate details in the bodies of the people, objects and monsters are found throughout the entire book. The use of shadowing to show deep emotion and darkness combined with the use of white to contrast with those shadows. The use of patterns are Escher-like in their appearance and the depth of patterns draws the readers into the complexity of the story.

Epileptic is a rather contradictory choice. It is a story of pain and sorrow. It is a tale of self-doubt and self-preservation. It is an awkward moment that reveals the intimate inner workings of a man, armored as a child but vulnerable as an adult. Lastly, it is David B. inviting the world into the bedroom of his mind. But the story is more than representation of one man and his life, it is also about his ability to create the images, the people and creatures to tell his story more accurately. The fantastical monsters with their labyrinthine designs, the ornate landscape that hold the roots of these creatures, all are used in telling the story David B.'s life and the constant struggle within and without.

Annotated Bibliographies

Barry, Linda. One Hundred Demons. Seattle: Sasquatch Books, 2002.

Part fiction, part truth, One Hundred Demons is an “autobifictionalgraphy” of Linda Barry. This graphic novel is a conglomerate of comic strips, scrapbook pieces and photos tied together into a child-like cartooning style. A Hundred Demons reflect the funny and quirky stories of the artist’s childhood of a screaming Filipino mother, a storytelling grandmother, and a look at coming of age. Influenced by a 16th century Zen monk’s painting of a hundred demons chasing each other about, Barry explores her demons in the context of her younger life. Barry's theme of coming of age and the awkward mother/daughter relationship are emphasized in her style of art. Pictures painted on yellow lined paper give the appearance of teen doodles in biology class. Colorful but not overly detailed, the two panel layout makes for an easy read. Several reviews also give a concise review of Barry's reflections of her younger years. Andrew D. Arnold writes that A Hundred Demons "masterfully captures that period in all our lives when we begin to feel alone in the world." The Copacetic Comics Company uses the beginning of Barry's reflections on the demons in her life when they state: "our past is always there, hovering just below the surface of our conscious thoughts, pushing our buttons and directing our courses of action, regardless of whether we are aware of or oblivious to this fact." Linda Barry's A Hundred Demons is not only a contemplation of the self but an invitation to the reader to do likewise as they read the book.

Chiappetta, Joe. Silly Daddy. New York: Reed Press, 2004.

This autobiographical graphic memoir chronicles the life of the Joe Chiappetta as he draws the failings of his first marriage, his struggling relationship with the daughter he adores, the meeting of his of second future wife and his paranoia with the American government. A story that holds to no single style of drawing but an exploration of the various forms of artistic expression, Silly Daddy is not only the development of the artist but also the growth and maturity of an individual into the world of parenthood, friendships and expressionist. Silly Daddy journeys back and forth from realism and fantasy and some may be interested to see how Chiappetta develops as an artist or become annoyed with the inconsistencies through the entire graphic novel. Chiappetta method of exploring his life through comics is unique and several reviews also report the same view. The Copacetic Comics Company dub Silly Daddy as "fairly unique in its combination of fantasy and realism" but Baker's Dozen describes it as "suddenly veer off into pure fantasy, simultaneously juxtaposing and skewering the social undercurrents of the then-current indy comics convention scene through the application of the conventions of the superhero genre, or perhaps suddenly jumping into the future while maintaining, and exploring, the mechanisms of memory and the autobiographical genre itself." Although Silly Daddy is a collection strips compiled together to create a memoir of sorts is is fascinating to see inner workings of an author both artistically but also intimately.

Katin, Miriam. We are on Our Own. Montreal: Drawn & Quartely, 2006.

Miriam Katin’s, We Are On Our Own, is a graphic memoir of the events that took place in her childhood during WWII. Escaping Budapest in the face of Nazi take-over, Miriam and her mother evade the invaders by faking their deaths while setting out to survive the devastations of war. In the process, Miriam reflects about her beliefs of God from her childhood recollections to her current situation of talking about God with her own daughter. The conflict is portrayed by the black and white images of her childhood with the colored pictures of her present situation. The story set in simple dialogue and blur-like drawings, give the impression of a child-like view that Miriam tries to recapture in the telling of the story. The squiggly font gives the impression of the adults' constant fear in Katin's childhood world. Much of the story is portrayed through the art itself, and Joel Yanofsky comments "Katin's drawings carry the weight of the book's suspense and poignancy." However, the jump between the narration of the author as an adult and as a child is rather sudden. A difference is created between these two time periods by color for the present and black and white for the past. This book could be considered a child's book except for the fact that several issues such as gang rape and some sexual exploitation are subtly presented in the graphic novel.

Pekar, Harvey, Brabner, Joyce. Our Cancer Year. New York: Thunder’s Mouth Press, 1994.

A recorded year of dealing with cancer, Desert Storm and the move to a new house, Our Cancer Year is a personal account of a couple’s struggle with cancer. Included in the graphics are also the stories of seven teenage activists from Cambodia and the Middle East that Joyce befriends. These teenagers become very much a part of Harvey’s and Joyce’s lives as Harvey battles his cancer and Joyce battles Harvey’s hopelessness. Set in sketchy black and white graphics, the art truly depicts the blurring of time and space for the couple as they lived from treatment to treatment. But the uneven and blurred lines of the drawings along with uneven panels brings forth the starkness of the couples life as they deal with physical pain and mental anguish. Joseph Witek finds the book ironic in context to Pekar's usual gripe about life that is found in American Splendor. In Our Cancer Year, Harvey now has something real to complain about. For all of its complexity, Our Cancer Year is a glance into the life of two ordinary people, or as John Hogan says "is most remarkable for its utter normalcy. Pekar is an everyman through and through." The only matter of complexity within the story is how the couple deals with life and with each other.

Sacco, Joe. Palestine. Seattle: Fantagraphics Books, 2001.

Palestine is an autobiographical comic of Joe Sacco's time in Palestine in late 1991 to early 1992.   Sacco's travels through the Palestinian community puts him into contact with Palestinian stories of brutalization, displacement, torture, death, unemployment, equal rights and while listening to these stories, Sacco connects and comes away with his own stories. Sacco is able to present, as in the words of one review, "the sensitivity of his handling of a delicate subject, as well as for the craft exhibited in his dynamic, sophisticated layouts and bold narrative" (Powell Books). Bold narratives draws the reader into the scene through exaggerated human features and the close up angles of peoples faces or bodies as they move forward in the panels. The review Read Rebecca comments on the power of images. At times, the power of the story found in words is left behind and taken up in the drawings. The reviewer comments that,"having the story partly told via the pictures made it less painful – and yet more painful: he [Sacco] didn’t have to describe the torture methods because they were illustrated for me to see." Sacco's Palestine is a door to the other side of the world and one approach of becoming familiar with political and personal situation of the Middle East.

Seth. It’s a Good Life, If you Don’t Weaken. Montreal: Drawn & Quartely, 2004.

This is an autobiographical comic about the musings of Seth and his obsession with a New Yorker cartoonist from the 1950s. As he begins collecting “Kalo’s” spattering of cartoons, Seth contemplates his fascination over the similarities of the New Yorker cartoonist’s works and his own. In the same breath, Seth also looks at his personal connections to the past and ponders his comfort with the days of yesterdays, his failed past relationships, and the reluctance of accepting the future. Set in colors of blue, black and white, the colors of the comic reflect the bleakness of Seth’s conversations with himself and of his friend, and his journeys of discovering Kalo. Seth's nostalgia of the past is also tied up with the style of his drawings. As Matt Fraction writes, "Seth's work feels out-of-time, anachronistic...and his writing balances sharp, melancholic introspection with a control of pacing and scene unlike almost anyone else in the field." Seth's desire for the old days and his representation of it in his art is quite obvious as one reviewer, Stuart McLean comments, "after spending so much of my youth hoarding cardboard cartons of comics, it was a grand delight to discover this comic narrative written for adults." The comic style, the setting of the story, and the reflections self set the rhythm of this Canadian autobiographical graphic novel.

Spiegelman, Art. In The Shadow Of No Towers. New York: Pantheon Books, 2004.

Each comic page is an art montage that produces a cohesive spectrum of the emotions the artist felt as 9/11 took place. These reflections of the artist's emotions and feelings during that time are brief references to the social situation during and after the 9/11 crisis among the public and political sphere. Spiegelman looks at the reaction time of the government, the public and his family on the day the two towers fell. Woven into the comic is the theme of the Arab and Jew conflict and Spiegelman, portrayed in his Maus form, is caught in between the feelings of tension. Scott Thill writes "Spiegelman's highly personal exploration of the horrors of 9/11 and how they nearly destroyed him...offers a more powerful criticism of postmodern America's state of affairs than most of those found in this season's Bush-bashing titles." Spiegelman explores the confusion, the raw emotions and the pointing of fingers through color, ordered and disordered panels and no set standard of characters throughout the entire memoir. David Hadju confirms that In The Shadow of No Towers is incomparable to Maus and that it "is a vigorously unorthodox work probably designed to avoid the comparisons with its celebrated predecessor..." These two review examples are just a few comments that look at the personal involvement of  In the Shadow of No Towers

compared to the indirect involvement of Maus.

Spiegelman, Art. Maus. New York: Pantheon Books, 1986.

Maus I is an intense biographical/autobiographical graphic comic about the artist’s father’s harrowing tales of survival in World War II Europe just before his and his wife’s entry into Auschwitz.  Speigelman chronicles Vladek’s tale of “how-I-met-your-mother” to the early birthing pains of the war. Mingled in the main story is the story of the artist’s unspoken narration of “surviving the survivor,” where glimpses of the artist’s own relationship with his father during these interviews are revealed.  Flashbacks to the past with sudden interludes of the presence show the complex and painful lives of both men and their attempts to deal with one another. Spiegelman's use of mice and cats emphasizes the stalking motions of the Germans as they hunt down scurrying, hiding Jews. Personifying humans as animals creates many meanings and as Michael Kimmelman, one reviewer,  concludes "Mr. Spiegelman rejects precisely the caricatures that are supposedly a drawback of the comic-strip form." The simplicity of the drawings focuses the reader on the story and creates a balance with the images, and as another reviewer writes, "compels the reader to keep turning the pages while terror comes to life through vivid illustrations" (Caribousmom 2008) Some may consider this autobiographical graphic novel too visual for children, while others may find the use of mice as men a balance to the gruesomeness of war.

Torres, Aliss. American Widow. New York: Villard, 2008.

American Widow is a memoir that encapsulates the entire 9/11 experience that turned Aliss Torres life upside down. The beginning of the box depicts an eight-month pregnant Torres angry at her husband as he begins the first day of work at the Trade Center. With her husband's death and the soon after birth of her son, the book marks the social and governmental hoops Aliss Torres jumps through in obtaining her dead husband's body and gain financial support for herself and her newborn child. The art of Sungyoon Choi sets the tone of Torres' story. Places and people are drawn in open spaces and some areas contain panels while other spaces bleed right to the edge of the page. The contrasting colors of black and white act as anchors against the confusion and chaos portrayed through Torres and her actions within the story.  The strength of the story lies in the honest portrayal of a woman in crisis, and as George Gene Gustines of the New York Time writes, her "willingness to address difficult issues, including her anger at her husband and her frustration in dealing with relief agencies that at times alternated between being overeager and counterproductive." But most reviews appreciate American Widow for its personal look at individuals who were directly affected by September 11th (Random House). This book would be appropriate for women (and men) who have lost a loved one in tragedy to relate to experiences of Torres in American Widow.

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Presenting Autobiographical Graphic Novels...