Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art

McCloud recounts his own introduction to comics, which left him believing they were too childish for him. When a friend persuaded him to take a second look, he began to see greater depth in comics and resolved to become a comics artist by the 10th grade.

He expresses the notion that the relatively crude nature of most comics prevents readers from taking them seriously and understanding their true potential as a literary art form. He wanted to express the power and possibilities of comics for a long time—this being the impetus behind writing Understanding Comics.

McCloud notes that the world of comics is vast. He uses the word “comics” to refer to the entire genre of sequential graphic art (as per Will Eisner’s definition; 5). To better understand the process of creating comics, it is important to differentiate between the art form and its content—examining the comic form without considering the contents of any specific comic. As an art form, comics is rarely examined.

McCloud expands on Eisner’s definition, calling comics “sequential visual art” (7). He explains that the difference between comics and animated cartoons is that, in comics, the different frames are juxtaposed: They sit side-by-side and take up actual physical space that animation does not. Animation takes up only one space—the screen—and constantly changes. Accordingly, McCloud expands his own definition of comics to “juxtaposed sequential visual art” (8). He continues to play with the definition, adding qualifiers until he derives a comprehensive definition: “juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence” (9).

Comics as understood today began to emerge around the beginning of the 20th century, though they actually originated centuries earlier in Mayan artifacts dating back to 1049 CE. McCloud quotes the work of Mexican scientist Alfonso Caso, who studied a 36-feet-long screenfold painting depicting the triumphs of Mayan hero Eight-Deer Tiger’s Claw. McCloud then mentions the 230-feet-long Bayeux Tapestry that tells the story of the Norman conquest of England in 1066. Unlike today’s comics, these early comics lack distinct borders, requiring readers to deduce the progression of their stories through the images’ changing subjects. McCloud believes these examples should advise today’s creators about the vast possibilities of comics.

With that said, Egyptian hieroglyphics cannot be considered comics because, like written English, the pictures represent sounds rather than objects. McCloud says he was frustrated in trying to follow the sequences in Egyptian paintings—which are different from Egyptian hieroglyphs—until he realized that his reference books were only showing parts of the entire picture. He displays a scene of the Tomb of Menna (a scribe who lived 32 centuries ago). This scene is read in a zig-zag pattern and tells the story of a wheat harvest—from the reapers to the punishment of farmers who were late in paying their taxes.

McCloud shares the single greatest advancement in generating comics for the masses: “there is one event which looms as large in comics history as it does in the history of the written word. The invention of printing” (15). William Hogarth of 18th century fame created series of paintings meant to be viewed in sequential order. The popularity of his work resulted in the necessity of creating copyright laws.

However, the true founder of modern comics was Swiss artist Rudolphe Töpffer, who initiated the use of bordered panels and combined pictures and words. Töpffer’s work was succeeded by British caricature magazines that eventually led to the plethora of today’s comics. McCloud points out that his definition of comics keeps comics’ “unsung heroes” (18) in mind—these heroes being creators whose groundbreaking work was demeaned by those judgmental of comics. McCloud calls the collective pejorative attitude toward comics “self-perpetuating” (18) as creators often avoid referring to their work as comics. He describes woodcut artists Lynd Ward and Frans Masereel of the 20th century as “missing links” (18) between comics’ potential and its recognition as an art form. A vastly different expression of comic art was the surrealist “collage novel” A Week of Kindness by Max Ernst (19), a series of 182 plates with an established sequence but no coherent narrative.

McCloud points out that comics are used in a variety of ways, such as panels in a manual. He admits to one example that does not fit his definition—single panel cartoons like those in newspapers. He calls these “comic art” (20).

The future of comics cannot be fully predicted as McCloud’s definition is so open that it does not preclude any genre, medium, or manner of interpretation. Comics is ever expanding, so McCloud leaves it to future generations to make an absolute definition.

McCloud begins this chapter with a two-page example of the way comics engage readers linguistically. He replicates René Magritte’s famous painting of a pipe, The Treachery of Images, with a French phrase that translates to “This is not a pipe” (24). Magritte’s point is that an image can represent a thing but is not the thing in itself: An image of a pipe is not a pipe.

McCloud refers to representational images as “icons” rather than symbols” (27). He discusses three categories of icons:

• A symbol, such as a peace sign, represents a concept.
• Linguistic and scientific icons that designate a specific action or meaning, such as the dollar sign, are meant to be practical.
• Comics are icons that look like the subjects they are designating (i.e., a drawing of a crescent moon is intended to represent the moon).

Symbolic icons and linguistic/scientific icons have fixed meanings. On the other hand, a comics icon can still represent its meaning even as it becomes more abstract. To illustrate this, McCloud uses multiple images of a man’s face that become more and more simplified while remaining identifiable as said face. He refers to this phenomenon as “amplification through simplification” (30).

The simpler an icon, the more universal it is. A realistic image of a person’s face can resemble one or two individuals—but a line drawing can resemble hundreds, and a simple scribble of a face can represent all people. McCloud writes, “When we abstract an image through cartooning, we’re not so much eliminating details as we are focusing on specific details. By stripping down an image to its essential ‘meaning,’ an artist can amplify that meaning in a way that realistic art can’t” (30).

McCloud describes this simplification, “cartooning,” as “an effective tool for storytelling in any medium” (31). He goes on to argue that the human mind actually forces one to see certain simple icons (i.e., the image of two dots above a straight line in the middle of a circle is understood as a face). People continually see themselves in objects, such as an electric outlet (“eyes”) or a car grill (“mouth”), that have elements resembling a face: “we make the world over in our image” (33).

McCloud argues that people’s faces are really just masks that face out into the world: “the face you see in your mind is not the same as others see” (35). The assumed image people retain of their own faces is simplistic, like a cartoon. From this observation, McCloud concludes, “Thus, when you look at a photo or a realistic drawing of a face—you see it as the face of another. But when you enter the world of the cartoon—you see yourself” (36). This is the reason he chooses to draw himself as a cartoon throughout the book—“a blank slate,” “a little voice in your head. A concept” (37). McCloud assumes that if he remains insignificant, what he has to say will be more significant to readers.

This idea goes beyond the human face. According to social philosopher Marshall McLuhan, humans conceptually extend themselves to inanimate objects (i.e., clothes; drivers become one with their vehicles, enabling them to perceive more than their senses encounter). Humans become invested in inanimate objects. In the process, their own self-awareness becomes simplified.

McCloud writes, “All the things we experience in life can be separated into two realms, the realm of the concept—and the realm of the senses” (39). He expands upon this by noting that humans’ self-image is a concept built from the outset; they have no sensual awareness of who they are. As people develop self-image, their conceptual—simplified—image becomes their identity. Cartoons themselves remain in the conceptual rather than the sensual world. When cartoons are used to tell a story, they “pulse with life,” hints of realism portraying “the beauty and complexity of the physical world” (41). Readers seek to identify with characters—in part to place themselves in their stories. For this purpose, simple cartoons have the advantage of being easier to identify with than realistic drawings.

Some schools of comic art (notably that of Belgian cartoonist Hergés Tintin) combine realistic backgrounds and cartoonish characters in order to promote identification between artist and character. McCloud discusses various artists who use this technique—including Japanese artists who advanced it by creating hybrid art. This hybrid art comprises mixing cartoonish characters (to promote identification) and realistic characters (to highlight significant traits).

McCloud goes on to discuss the importance of including the written word in comics; words are also drawings, the “ultimate abstraction” (47). He says that words and drawings deserve to be recognized as comics: “A single unified language deserves a single unified vocabulary” (47) like any legitimate art form or literary genre.

McCloud distinguishes between words and pictures of any kind—and the inherent difficulty in combining them. Words are “perceived” (they require abstract decoding) and pictures are “received” (they need no interpretation) (49). Ideally, comics can combine both communication forms at a mid-point.

The “pictorial vocabulary” of visual art (51) comprises three vertices that form a pyramid: the picture plane, language, and reality. At the top of the picture plane is abstraction—that with no explanation or assigned meaning. McCloud observes that most comic art lies near the bottom of this pyramid where every line has meaning. Pages 52-53 populate the pyramid with images drawn by other artists that belong at various points between the picture plane (complete abstraction), language (that is, meaning), and reality. In other words, the images range in meaning—with drawn words being just as essential to comics’ overall vocabulary.

Comics artists typically utilize more than one point of the pyramid. Starting in the 1960s, Marvel comics creators Stan Lee and Jack Kirby utilized cartoon drawings of realistic settings, an advancement that McCloud refers to as “a middle ground of iconic forms” (55). In the 1980s and 90s, underground comics artists leaned toward the cartoonish side of the pyramid, using simple line drawings even for adult material. Artists’ drawings often reveal what is important to them; they have different passions and perspectives, different goals. McCloud hopes that “visual iconography may help us realize a form of universal communication” (58) in the near future.