This week you’ll post on Friday, March 18. You can return to discussions of Missing Sarah or Forsaken, as well as the other texts we’ve touched on, for instance missingpeople.net or Walking with Our Sisters. You can also blog about Persepolis, or start trying out ideas for your research papers.
A few “archives in the news” items have come across my desk that I thought would be of interest to you: this NYT story about Bob Dylan’s “secret archive” continues our interest in musicians; this one about the digitization of almost 4000 pages of artist Paul Klee’s notebooks may be of interest to those who worked on Shadbolt’s notebooks; this article, about the digitized archives of 19th coroner’s reports from the American south, explores how they contain “hundreds” life narratives the coroner collected about his subjects: like Forsaken, then, we see life narratives in a legalistic / institutional context, where they serve purposes that may be quite different from those of a memoir, for example. To me, I’m wondering: why did the coroner decide this was important work to do, at all? There’s something here about inscribing lives so that that they will be remembered, and therefore will matter, I think. Finally, Amanda Wan and Beatrice Lew, 2 of my English 492 students (in my course on archives) did a wonderful presentation on the archives and the TRC, and discussed this video, which features a barn at the site of a residential school, and how the IRS students scratched their names into the barn’s walls and ceilings: another act of insistent self-inscription, and they read the barn as an archival site. (I’ve linked their names to each of their blogs, where they have also posted several links about TRCs in South Africa and Canada.)
In response to Seana: I agree with your point about how some of the sources reporting on the missing and murdered women view them as aboriginal and fail to acknowledge them as nothing more. Perhaps this is why I found Missing Sarah: A Memoir of Loss to be different – the memoir wrote about Sarah as an actual human being, with friends, emotions, fears and reflections like us. Additionally, I made a connection between your last paragraph and my most recent blog post – how people go about representing the dead when the decreased cannot speak for themselves. While I do not have an answer regarding how this should be done, I think you have made more progress than I have, by stating we should ask ourselves if how we are speaking for them is done in such a manner the decreased would have wanted.
In response to Emma: Something that caught my attention whilst reading your blog post was the differences between a comic book and a graphic novel. As I was reading what differentiates the two, I found myself struggling to identify which category Watchmen would fall into. Being fully aware that I haven’t read many comics or graphic novels, Watchmen took me for surprise because it dealt with dark, gritty issues which I previously thought wouldn’t have happened in comics, thinking comics were for younger audiences. However, with superhero films, especially with Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy and Deadpool, the genre of superheroes has developed an older interest.
In response to Colleen: Reading you blog post, especially the parts where you wrote about Mechú and how she represented the traumas of other women through sharing them as her own, made me think about Seana’s question of how can individuals be sure that the decreased want be remembered the way in which the living is remembering them in. Representation for the dead and the voiceless has been a common topic for this course. In the various life narratives the class has examined, it seems if there isn’t a comprehensive representation due to there being silences within the texts, gaps of knowledge which have yet to be addressed and responses (particularly seen with Mechú) which reflect the issue of how not every life narrative gets to be heard or accepted.
Emma: As a fan of Marvel comics, I was really captivated by your post. I do agree with your ideas on how Persepolis was conveyed. Comparing between Captain America and Persepolis made me understand how although they are both drastically different, the same principles are applied in terms of creating the story. Persepolis was quite a wake up call for me as I believed most graphic novels were also fictional like your typical superhero comic. I plan on finding more graphic memoirs when I have time. On that note, do you see yourself reading more graphic non-fiction memoirs like Persepolis?
Melissa: After reading Persepolis, I was wondering the same thing of how we are treated to an upper class point of view of a very pivotal time in Iran’s history and in the Islamic world with the onset of many wars. I think if it were not for Persepolis not being an “autographic”, we would not completely get an idea on just how high Marji and her families were in terms of socioeconomic status. I think when it comes to countries plunged into war and wealth, there is a clear disparity in who can/gets to leave and who doesn’t. Great post.
Tima: Excellent post, I never knew just how many graphic memoirs were out there until reading Persepolis. Your blog gave me more ideas on what graphic memoir I want to start next. As for the question of viability, I do believe minute details do tend to be manipulated slightly. This is were the business aspect of narratives comes in in terms of publication. Your ideas on the book were excellent. I think I will try reading this graphic memoir myself too!
Tima,
I found your blog really fascinating. It was interesting to hear an alternative perspective on the use of graphic novels as autobiographical works. I think the point you brought up about validity is important to look at. Looking at Marjane Satrapi and Persepolis/Persepolis 2, we know that the reason she didn’t write a third was because of the fact that she wouldn’t be writing it based on first hand experience, but rather on second hand knowledge. She must have questioned the authenticity in writing another book that would be based on others experiences that she could not experience first-hand. I find the issue of busyness you described in graphic narratives to be interesting. I was able to follow Persepolis pretty well, but I do feel that portions would maybe need to be reread for me to fully grasp all the text has. I would like to read Vietnamerica to have another go at reading graphic narratives, it sounds very interesting.
Anna,
Your blog post brought up some really interesting and pressing issues facing our world today. The issues regarding media representations of African Americans make me question why tones of racism are still so present within the news, and in what ways can they work to be eliminated. In a nation where issues of race and discrimination have been so ever-present, the consistent revival of race issues within the news makes me question who is actually coming up and writing the articles. Are they inherently racist people? Or is it sort-of hardwired into them to speak of individuals of varying race in condescending ways, due to their socialization within a nation that still possesses many issues regarding race? I hope that with time, and a shift in thought within younger generations, the presence of racism will eventually truly diminish.
Chipo,
I read the Bob Dylan article as well and found what you said in your blog very interesting. In regards to the missing letter between him and Barbara Streisand, I find the fact that there are physical silences missing, but I also question if there are more abstract silences present within his archive. I wonder if there is similar work that can be done, linking parts of his life to his work, to what we did with Jack Shadbolt and his journals and sketchbooks. Maybe correlations can be drawn between his experiences and his music through a deeper analysis of his personal writing and thoughts, as he wrote songs.
In response to Blakely,
I found your blog very interesting, as it reminded me of the specific ways in which the form of a graphic narrative allows Satrapi to convey certain things in her memoir. This subtlety of the symbolism of the flamenco and the American images allows Satrapi to, I’d argue, hint at some of the underlying themes of her memoir without specifically alluding to them. The reoccurring image of the bird, for example, allows readers like you to make connections to the events of the narrative and the symbol, and in turn connect these events with each other. We can then look at the significance of the bird, and what it may represent, and what the placement of the images says about the story being told. This same effect would be difficult to achieve in a written memoir.
In response to Jewel,
Your blog was of particular interest to me partially because my 12-year-old sister talks about Taylor Swift non-stop. More importantly, I am interested in the idea of using music to portray life narratives. I have never before heard of Swift’s album referred to as a life narrative, and it makes me wonder how much one’s own experiences are understood or acknowledged when shared through music. In other words, how is Swift’s life narrative consumed? Do songs lose their meanings if considered “catchy” and played over and over again on the radio for mass consumption? Because Swift’s songs are not, as far as I have experienced, widely consumed as reflections on her life or facets of her experience, does this indicate that music is perhaps not the most effective form for sharing one’s story?
In response to Zoey,
Facebook memorials are a fascinating topic. Having seen a few of them on my own newsfeed, I am interested in how this remembering of people ties into Chute’s idea of “not forgetting” (97). It seems to me that the posts on Facebook are not only a way for individuals to remember their loved ones, but for them to remember them in a public forum and through this, remind others. The collective memory, which you mention, is then created from a collective remembering. When someone posts on a deceased friend’s Facebook wall, it might show up on my newsfeed, and I in turn may take some time to remember and post something, and so on. We keep remembering and therefore not forgetting, and not allowing others to forget.
In response to Mishal’s blog:
I like how you thoroughly explain the strengths of graphic narratives in bridging the cultural gap between readers and authors. Yet I wonder if comic narratives can effectively provide a clearer image for the situation depicted and help readers understand author’s view of the event. Readers decipher images subjectively and may come up with distinct opinions. For instance, before reading Melissa’s post on Persepolis p.116, I would think that the panel is only a transition from public history to her person experiences. But what Melissa suggested is that Satrapi walking through the war field unharmed is a representation of her privileged socio-economic statue. Both of our understanding can be right although we interpret the story differently. I think graphic narratives also have a lot of rooms for imagination, which may somehow obstruct the delivery of author’s ideas.
In response to Tima’s blog
Your blog post is really inspiring, especially when you talk about the weakness of graphic narratives in which visual presentation is too “busy” and it may divert readers’ attention from important messages. It is true that when we read the book, we often focus on the characters in the foreground and the words. Seldom do we look closely at the background or trivial details of each illustration which may carry significant meanings. For example, it is when we discussed a passage in “The Sabbat” (p.136-137) in class that I realized the opposing color of the background and the depiction of a family unit on one side and Satrapi walking alone on the other bear deeper meanings. Therefore there is a risk that readers will overlook the underlying messages conveyed as they selectively focus on a certain elements in graphic narratives.
In response to Joe’s blog post:
I found your post really interesting as you suggest how historical events shape the publication of life narratives. Adding to what you have mentioned, the way Western market desires for narratives from the East after 9/11 can be explained by Edward Said’s idea of “orientalism,” which is a framework that exoticizes and marginalizes Eastern culture while promoting Western ideals (50). In Persepolis, Satrapi may be presented as the “other” to the West. Her first person account of the brutality of the war has the potential to be turned into a political tool that justify Western military intervention in Iran, as Iranians are portrayed as powerless as Satrapi and her family. This gives Western readers an impression that they need the help of the West. Thus, I agree with you that we should pay attention to how autobiographies influence our perception on Islamic countries, and vice versa.
Said, Edward W. Orientalism. New York : Vintage Books, 1994. Print.