Our discussions of Maus over these last couple of weeks have raised a number of points that I have found interesting. Something particularly intriguing came up in our group discussions last week when we were exploring our first impressions of the books. It had to do with Spiegelman’s presentation of “Prisoner on the Hell Planet” in Maus I between pages 99 and 104. My group members and I were discussing the metanarrative functions of the comic within the larger comic. While examining page “100” during our discussion I noticed for the first time that Art’s hand was depicted at the bottom left holding the pages of “Prisoner”. I had read this particular part in Maus I a couple of times previously to this because I had found it a particularly interesting part of the book, but this was the first time I had noticed Art’s hand there. Some of my group members had a similar experience with these pages in Maus I and we went on to discuss the implications of the fact that we are seeing “Prisoner” through Art’s eyes.

I keep thinking about how Art’s hand is presented and how I initially missed it when reading those pages. I realized as we were discussing that I probably didn’t see it at first because my own hand was obscuring Art’s; I was holding the book in such a way that my hand was making the exact same shape as Art’s. Besides making me think about the metanarrative implications of “Prisoner on the Hell Planet”, this observation forced me to confront myself as a reader of Maus and as a participant in the “meta” functions of this scene.

The inclusion of “Prisoner on the Hell Planet” is of course an indication of metanarrative; readers see directly through Art’s eyes and onto the pages of “the comic within the comic”. My experience with discovering the picture of Art’s hand forced me to think of readers as another layer of depth in this metanarrative. We are actively engaged in consuming this story; we perform the gesture of holding the pages up to our eyes, just like Art does with “Prisoner”. We bring the narrative in and experience it. It is interesting to note that there is a picture of a hand in a similar position holding the photo in the top panel of “Prisoner” as well. This gives us three distinct layers: one hand drawn in “Prisoner”, the other inside Maus, and lastly the hand of the reader, holding and reading the physical copy of Maus. I find it fascinating how the reader participates in the building of this “meta” moment, becoming part of the layered imagery relating to the consumption and analysis of a narrative.

Walking through Speaking to Memory: Images and Voices from St. Michael’s Residential School at the Museum of Anthropology yesterday was a very sobering and unsettling experience. Because we are studying memoir (specifically testimony) in its different forms, I wanted to be aware of how the stories and memories were presented in the physical space of the exhibit as well as in the context of “voice” and reconciliation. With these ideas in mind, two things were of particular interest to me as I walked through the exhibit: the physical representation of the various apologies for the IRS, and the photos taken at St. Michael’s by the young girl with the Kodak camera.

For me, the apologies were a very interesting part of the exhibit from a physical perspective. They were printed and hung up on long, white sheets of paper in front of a large window in the exhibit space. Because the words were printed in such a small typeface on such long sheets of paper, the large space underneath each block of text was emphasized. To me, this really drew attention to how short many of the apologies were. It was also indicative of the fact that, in regards to the horrors of the IRS and the movement towards reconciliation, a written or verbal apology is just the beginning; there is much space left to fill. The presentation of the apologies side-by-side highlighted the difference in lengths between them, as well.

The photos on the wall beside the apologies were also interesting as aspects of the exhibit. While I noted that visitors to the exhibit could use markers to name the figures in the photos, I couldn’t help but think about the person behind the camera in each photo, and about photography as a form of testimony that gives “voice”. There was one photo in particular that caught my eye in this respect. It showed a couple of young students of St. Michael’s standing together; to their left the shadow of the person taking the photo could be seen stretched across the ground. It really reminded me of the presence of the photographer as an agent of testimony and how even though there were no words communicated through this form, we are still seeing through someone’s eyes, and thus being brought into their story.

The exhibit as a whole was very interesting in light of our readings from the TRC. I look forward to hearing what everyone else thought.