For years aficionados of the comics art form have bemoaned its apparent lack of respectability with the mainstream public and wondered when comics would, finally, gain the cultural cache they deserve. An oft-discussed scenario in these ruminations is the prospect of reading comics in public places–as if the true harbinger of comics’ cultural “arrival” would be when one could, without self-consciousness, open a comic book or graphic novel and read it comfortably in the local coffee shop, or on the train.
Personally, I’ve never had any real problem reading comics in public places; I really don’t care if the “unwashed masses” think I’m an imbecile.
Ironically, though, what I have had a problem reading in public places lately is The Comics Journal. My attempts to read the previous issue while working out in the cardio room of the YMCA (one of the few times I have these days for casual reading) was stymied, as I found it too troublesome, amidst a packed room of folks, to try to discretely wade through the issue, whilst avoiding the numerous Frank Thorne drawings of 45 DDD women in chain mail getting humped five ways to Friday by groups of demons and whatnot. (I gave up and read a three year-old issue of Entertainment Weekly. Apparently there’s a movie being made of Spongebob Squarepants–whoda thunk it?)
With this incident squarely behind me, I’d been holding out on reading the newest issue, the “Best of 2006” issue, until just today, since I’d be traveling most of the day en route to Ft. Lauderdale, and figured I’d make use of otherwise dead time in the plane and airport to take in this issue. But, alas, the issue is so festooned throughout with Melinda Gebbie’s technicolor drawings of genitalia in action, that it looks like I’ll wind up passing on it as well, at least when packed in sardine-style next to some random stranger on a plane.
I’m no prude, but there’s something sort of tragic about the fact that I would probably be less likely to be cast a disparaging glance (or worse) reading the latest issue of Maxim than recent issues of The Comics Journal. I mean, I can pick up a magazine on artsy film stuff that features an interview with Akira Kurosawa without having his “package” depicted on the cover James Sturm-style.
Just a thought…
3 comments
My theory:
TCJ is looking for trouble. I subscribe to the journal, but not for long. Not only have the interviews turned into trite drivel, but also the overwhelming attention given to porn over the last few months has deterred my interest from a magazine that I used to look forward to. I assume that but looking for any reason to show something shocking (not only dirty pics, but also things like the neck explosion from Pride of Baghdad) is only bait. They’re on a mission to become a martyr for Free Speech. I see a correlation between this and the battle with Harlan Ellison. It also seem like no coincidence that it got worse right when Dirk Deppy focused his attention away from the print magazine to his Journalista website.
I ALWAYS try to take along a couple issues of TCJ when I fly…I find it a satisfying way to catch up on what I might’ve missed the first time through. That said, I know what you mean about the last couple of issues!
Author
Hey, I got nothing against The Journal–my post was intended to be more funny than critical. I mean, you couldn’t really run an interview with Melinda Gebbie without showing a bunch of images from LOST GIRLS…
I guess I do, though, think that sometimes the Journal shoots itself in the foot business-wise by doing stuff like having nudity on the cover–and even just simple stuff, like not having a consistent (and consistently placed) masthead on the cover.
I have nothing but respect for the publication and its journalistic principles, but I sometimes wonder if a little less “sticking it to the man” might allow the magazine to perform more of a role as an ambassador of the comics art form, as well as what seems to be its current role of keeping those of us who are already “converts” well-informed about goings-on in the world of literary comics…