cartoonist

Make Me A Woman

brittany — Sun, 21 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

It’s no stretch to say that mainstream media gives us a limited range of what women can be, so much so that when we find a book that actually reflects the complexity of womanhood, we’re ecstatic. Make Me A Woman is just that book. Readers will be able to readily relate to Vanessa Davis and the daily events of her life, while also encountering just enough difference to sink into some pure escapism.

Make Me A Woman is a collection of Davis’s diary comics and drawings from 2004 to 2010. In watercolor, pen and ink, and pencil drawings torn from the pages of her sketchbook, Davis unveils the events of her childhood in South Florida, her life in New York in her early twenties, and finally her move to California, where she currently lives with her boyfriend. Davis tackles those seemingly indescribable everyday events—such as developing a crush on a stranger in her daily commute and dealing with awkward sexual encounters or unrequited love—with biting wit and aplomb.

Aspiring artists out there will find this collection inspirational. Davis details her series of low-paying jobs with an eye trained firmly on her career—a paid cartoonist. She also pens a few panels about facing the artist’s worst demon: procrastination. In addition to creating strips about her Jewish identity and hanging out with friends, this autobiographical cartoonist creates some of her funniest panels about her relationship with her mother and sister. Although Davis’s mother is the űber cool founder of the Palm Beach Jewish Film Festival, she makes her daughters cringe by her mere choice of words, as mothers are wont to do.

I found Davis’s collection of strips enjoyable. I loved the tiny details she adds to her comics, and the hilarious asides that she slips in. But what I love the most is the range of feelings that the cartoonist expresses in her art, such as anger, annoyance, disappointment, anxiety, physical pain, pining, self-pity, embarrassment, and bliss. What’s more, it’s refreshing to see a cartoonist who is not afraid to draw herself with some weight on her and does not obsess about her size in the book, except for the fat farm she went to in her teens, which she “enjoyed.”

I’ve read through the collection three times, and each time that I get to the end, I want more. Although her critique of artist Robert Crumb alone was worth the price of the book, I still wish that Davis had delved more into her life as a cartoonist.

Written by: Heather Leighton, November 21st 2010

Was That Supposed To Be Funny?

admin — Mon, 31 May 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Lauren Barnett

One can never truly pinpoint what feminism looks like. Sometimes it’s the faces of celebrities, proudly claiming the F-word; sometimes it’s a swarm of protesters gathering on the National Mall. And sometimes it’s a crown of broccoli asserting its dancing ability to a bullying stalk of asparagus. In her latest work, Was That Supposed to be Funny, Brooklyn-based cartoonist/blogger Lauren Barnett uses personal anecdotes as well as personified vegetables to invite the reader into her quirky, droll mind.

While the comic does not serve as the site for feminist criticism, Barnett’s presentation of her own experiences as a woman offers fertile ground for exploring the cultural constructs that pervade the female experience. The title alone, inspired by a sixth grade note between the author and a classmate, conjures memories of bra-snapping boys, sexist teachers, landlords, and doctors plus a lifetime of pop-culture references in which the joke is on us. While hunting for an apartment, she is nearly scammed out of her $500 deposit, and completely scammed out of the apartment. One is left to wonder, would the apartment have been secured if the boyfriend with whom she will share it had been the one handling the shady broker?

The most poignant—and strangely hilarious—moments are Barnett’s inclusion of actual diary entries from her adolescence, written verbatim, and brought to life in black and white illustration. Watching Jaws, a nine-year-old Barnett is saddened by the death of “the pretty girl” and later makes history as President of the United States Niki Taylor, supported by her secretary, and best friend, Cindy Crawford. Barnett’s work is a charming and unique representation of the third wave of feminism and a generation of women no longer succumbing to silence. In a country where women are still underpaid and outnumbered by men in a number of fields including publishing, animation, and comedy, Barnett bravely inserts her voice into the dialogue. The result is a sublimely feminist, refreshingly entertaining, and utterly relevant documentation of one woman’s world.

Written by: Alicia Sowisdral, May 31st 2010

Nancy: Volume 2

admin — Sat, 10 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By John Stanley

Drawn and Quarterly

Drawn and Quarterly’s second compilation of the John Stanley-penned Nancy comics are simply enjoyable, and deliver what the Dell Comics stamps promise: “clean and wholesome entertainment.” More exceptional, however, than the Little Rascal-esque hijinks is Stanley’s clever writing and humorous narrative. This talent has earned him a place in classic comics history.

Throughout a prolific career, Stanley most notably wrote for Marjorie Henderson Buell’s strip Little Lulu, but also authored Thirteen Going on Eighteen, and Melvin Monster, among others. After a formidable career as an author of humorous comics, as well as a brief foray into horror comics, Stanley left the industry in the late ’60s. His Nancy storylines reflect Stanley’s oeuvre of work, as well as comics and popular culture mid-century.

Cartoonist Ernie Bushmiller created Nancy in 1938, based on the niece in Fritzi Ritz, a daily flapper strip featuring pinup-worthy Aunt Fritzi. The spin-off strip focuses on the (mis)adventures of heady young Nancy. In the ’40s, Dell Comics began publishing the strips in comic book issues. While there have been a variety of writers working on Nancy, Stanley’s humor and wit deserve recognition.

Nancy: Volume 2 is part of D&Q’s John Stanley Library. With an Art Deco-style cover designed by cartoonist and illustrator Seth (Palooka-ville), this hardcover edition is an eye-catching work. This collection contains issues 146-150, printed from 1957-58. The thick matte pages are yellowed like the pulp comics of yore, but I missed the musty, inky smell of newsprint.

Nancy is anything but theoretical, and certainly wholesome. In many ways, Nancy is an archetype. She can be seen in the facial expressions of Bill Watterson’s Calvin, the independent world of Charles Schulz’ Lucy, and the harebrained adventures of Ruthie in One Big Happy. A headstrong young girl with 1950s America orbiting around her, perhaps young Nancy is one of the earliest feminists in comics.

The book shows a fascinating world of children with few adults. Aunt Fritzi is a single woman with an occasional boyfriend, who looks after brillo-headed Nancy. Nancy’s biggest admirer is Sluggo, a young boy who never goes to school, lives alone in a dilapidated house, and is constantly tormented by Spike, the local shaved-head bully.

One of the most interesting characters is Stanley-created Oona Goosebumps, a precursor to Comic Debris’ Emily the Strange and Addams Family’s Wednesday. If anything in Nancy verges on spooky or dark, it’s Oona with her haunted house and bewitching presence. Rounding out the cast is Rollo, a ridiculously rich boy similar to Harvey Comics’ Richie Rich. With a full range of economic and social classes, Nancy looks to the practical middle class for balance. Stanley’s stories rely on the eventual return home, to a hot meal and glass of milk, and perhaps a stern scolding.

In 2009, Dark Horse Books released a complete run of Little Lulu comics, but the convenient paperback editions don’t have the aesthetic appeal of D&Q’s Nancy. I would have loved an introductory essay to provide historical context; however, if you’re looking for the pure experience of reading old comics, then this comes closer to that without the analytical rhetoric.

Written by: Claire Burrows, April 9th 2010