Monthly Archives: May 2008

Gunnerkrigg Court


Two of the most important aspects of storytelling are character development and character growth. While they are related, there are significant differences in the two concepts as well; characters need to have some level of development before they can truly grow. However, a well-developed character can end up fairly static and unchanging (and in turn risk becoming uninteresting). The converse is harder to prove in the story; if there is no firm concept of a character’s motivations and personality, actual character growth tends to be difficult to determine.

In many ways, Gunnerkrigg Court’s Antimony Carver spent the entire first year at school revealing her background and fundamental aspects to her before shifting gears to her growth as a person. Early on, Antimony was a fairly emotionless girl; it would not be until the chapter A Handful of Dirt that we’d come to realize that Animony wasn’t emotionless… she was in shock over the death of her mother. Even with that moment of grief, Antimony was still fairly withdrawn and reserved.

Still, some initial growth was visible. You can watch Antimony’s progress as she slowly recovers from the loss of her mother through the physical contact she initiates with her best friend Kat. Indeed, even before she cried by Kat’s side under the cherry tree, she was coming to the defense of her friend; using a judo throw to stop the antagonistic behavior of a classmate, comforting Kat by telling her she has a lovely nose after another classmate insulted her, and so on. Kat is in some ways a replacement for the family Antimony has lost, and she is quite protective of her friend.

This tendency toward physical contact appears to be a carryover from her relationship with her mother, Surma. Even when Surma was sick in the hospital, she wasn’t shy at holding her daughter close… and this tendency toward physical expressions of love is something that has manifested in Antimony as she recovers. One touching example happened at the end of the school year with Antimony reaching out and taking her friend’s hand as they talked in her room. While shippers wanting to pair anything that moves (and some things that don’t) might see this as the blossoming of young lesbian love, I suspect it is something much simpler: a bond of sisterhood between two girls who are best friends.

Antimony has also started to open up more with the new school year. She has shown a recent mischievous streak in her, in teasing Kat over her crush on her parent’s friend (and their teacher), Mr. Eglamore and in siccing Reynardine (a mischievous spirit that inhabits a stuffed wolf doll she owns) on several youths verbally antagonizing her and Kat. Indeed, the latter incident is troublesome in that it shows an expansion of Antimony’s tendency to break rules. We’ve caught her cheating by copying her friend’s science homework, leaving school bounds without permission, stealing a childhood picture from her best friend’s parents, and more.

Perhaps part of this was a result of Mr. Eglamore’s own behavior toward Antimony; when he punished Antimony for leaving the school bounds without permission, he told Antimony that her own mother broke the rules. The difference was that Surma didn’t get caught. When Antimony was told that, she scolded Eglamore for telling her this… but she still took it to heart. It’s not yet clear if Antimony is rebelling in homage to her mother, or out of a disdain for the adults who appear incompetent and who have proven unable to protect her or her mother.

Character growth doesn’t need to be positive. Much as a cancer grows yet kills, so too can character growth be unhealthy for the character. What will be telling is Kat’s own reaction to Antimony’s actions. She looked shocked at Antimony siccing Reynardine… and both her parents are teachers, and authority-figures. If her own best friend, the girl Antimony thinks of as a sister disapproves of these actions, it could temper Antimony’s own acts of rebellion. But whatever happens, seeing Antimony unbend enough to tease and have fun is a welcome change from a young girl who once hid her pain behind an unemotional mask.

Webcomic Commentary – The use of language in comics


Like millions of other Americans this weekend, I succumbed to temptation and went to see the Iron Man movie. While the movie did an excellent job of introducing the character and concept to a viewing audience which predominantly knows little of the character or concept, what struck me was a moment early in the film when Stark’s captors recorded a message in arabic (I think), without the benefit of subtitles. This actually was important later in the film when the translated message revealed just how deep the villain’s plans went. Unfortunately, it is far more difficult to transpose this audience confusion into the prose aspect of comics.

When it comes to language differences, webcomics borrow a page from their print brethren, with text often given in English, with a notation or brackets revealing that the language is translated. The more elaborate comics will go so far as to provide the original language, often presenting a translation at the bottom of the panel or page. However, sometimes an artist will feel the need to present the same confusion characters feel to the reading audience. Thus we get word balloons full of gibberish, coherent only to those people who know the language or willing to suffer through a translation program. Even then, it doesn’t always work well.

Of course, there are times when the art carries understanding better than the words, such as one episode of Megatokyo two years ago, and another from a little over a year ago. In these cases, it is the characters themselves that convey understanding with expressions and body language. Indeed, the best of stories can be told without even a word spoken, relying only on character facial expressions and body language to tell the tale.

When it doesn’t work, such as this update of Evil Overlords United (specifically the Thingie back story), the audience is left with no knowledge of what’s going on and a confusion perhaps greater than that of the character. For those people who don’t other visiting forums, the language is a phonic cutting of Quebecan French and English (which means that online translation programs would be completely ineffectual). Even translations given on the site’s tagboard proved too transitory for the casual reader, who would find the scene beyond their comprehension and result in them shrugging and moving on to another comic, rather than struggle to understand what’s going on.

Seriously. What harm would there be in presenting a translation at the bottom of the page? It’s obvious that Zworgue doesn’t know what’s being said. Keeping the audience out of the loop makes no sense. There is nothing vital being said here, no secret of the villain that will be revealed with a “translate” button on a computer later in the movie. Nor is there any great story shown, using facial expressions and body language to help reveal either what is being said… or what effect those words give even without understanding.

Is there a time for not revealing what is being said in a comic? Definitely. If, like in Iron Man, the words are so vital that concealing them helps present a twist later in the story, then the words should be concealed. Inevitably, someone will translate it… but most of the audience will have no clue. But if the foreign words are used just for atmosphere, then a translation below the comic will help keep the audience happy and interested. Otherwise you risk losing your audience to other comics that don’t dick with their readers to that extent.

Addendum note: Once the character Zworgue was given a “babelfish” the artist went back and translated the rest of the comics. I feel that the gimmick was not successful, and that it’s far better for the audience to understand what’s being said (unless it is absolutely essential for the story for the audience not to know what’s going on) than to risk alienating readers when they’re lost in translation.

Dresden Codak


Setting and background are two important aspects of any story. In this, comics have an inherent superiority over prose literature due to the visual nature of the medium. However, even comics have some limitations as to how to reveal background story. Traditionally, stories often rely on the “uninformed innocent” who needs to be told what is going on; this can be done humorously (such as with the forgetful dufus Gourrey from Slayers) or more seriously as is found in numerous epic fantasies (to the point that any Evil Overlord worth his grain should enforce manditory unbiased education of all rural children to ensure some dumb kid doesn’t end up on the path to destroying the Overlord’s plans).

The recent Dresden Codak took another approach, in utilizing a flashback of a very young Kimiko pretending to be an alien astronaut in search of cookies. The scene is tremendously touching, and gives us not only a glimpse of Kimiko’s mother and of the child that grew up to be a favorite among so many philosophy geeks and science nerds. One thing of interest to me was that her father, whom adult-Kimiko detests, was a roboticist, much like herself, while her mother was a biologist (and studying cloning). Previous comics suggest that Kimiko blames her father for her mother’s death. The fact that his experiments were more vital than being at his daughter’s side on her birthday is especially telling… suggesting that Kimiko is far more her father’s daughter than she might care to admit.

More curious, however, is Kimiko’s pursuit of roboticism over biology. Why not follow in her mother’s footsteps? Why pursue robotics to the extent she did? Part of this might be the temporary nature of biological life; all life eventually ends. Might Kimiko see the path of robotics as a path into some form of immortality, an immortality that her mother (the parent who seemed to truly love her, compared to a cold and distant father) was denied? Indeed, might she not be looking to find a way to bring her mother back with the cold hard science of robotics? What is clear is that these glimpses into Kimiko’s past help to explain her present self to a greater extent. I suspect that it is how her mother died that shaped Kimiko into the woman she is today… and the future she is destined to bring to humanity.

Garanos


One advantage that webcomics have over newspaper comics has to lie with persistent archives. While this has allowed plot-intensive comics to flourish, it also has allowed comics to suffer from story-bloat, with plots growing longer and more convoluted while becoming more difficult to follow. Many of the older webcomics show occasional signs of this, with story arcs that started out running for a few weeks being replaced by stories that last for years. Yet this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The newest generation of comics has learned from the mistakes of the past, building on larger storylines from the very beginning and intertwining shorter plots into the weave of a greater plot. These graphic web-novels do manage to avoid many of the issues with continuity that such forerunners as Sluggy Freelance and College Roomies from Hell are afflicted with, but can often suffer from such issues as pacing.

On the surface, Garanos looks much like its peers in the graphic web-novel field. Indeed, in the five months I’ve been reading, I’ve been chomping at the bit and wondering when the comic was actually going to start moving. Garanos would update three times a week, and some of those updates were voiceless moments, seconds of time where Alex Heberling would show us the story rather than take the quick and easy way out and tell us what happens next.

It is when you step back and start reading the comic from the start that the story and pace truly leaps out. Again, I’m reminded of Sluggy Freelance, this of a classic scene when Gwynn Turned Around. While I wasn’t reading SF back then, the mere pause of seeing that comic and going “what the blazes is going to happen next?” got to me. I empathized with readers from 2001 who went through that ordeal, of waiting a whole day to find out just what was going to happen to Gwynn. Only now, I was experiencing it with one of my absolute favorite graphic web-novels.

Nor would the obvious solution, increased panel count, necessarily work here. There are times when Garanos needs that Gwynn Turned Around. Moments of shock. Moments where we’re left hanging, not knowing just what will happen next. And I must admit I’ve rather enjoyed the artwork, even at the expense of not finding out more about the story at the moment. No doubt, later into the story when the pace increases, the panel count will as well. We’re in the lulls at the moment, learning more of Garanos’s background story and the consequences of her actions all those many months ago.

The original Garanos was based on a short story. It had a beginning, middle, and an ending. Fortunately, Heberling left room to expand from there. Whether the second volume of Garanos has as tight a story remains to be seen. Once you’ve read through the archives (and I must once again stress that the Harbinger volume is absolutely stunning in execution and plot) it may feel like the comic is taking forever to get anywhere. But much like the rest of the archives, Garanos is best read in one sitting, to allow the pacing to flow. Much like the old flip books, the story is far greater as the whole than just the sum of its parts.

Emergency Exit Comic


It’s difficult trying to sum up Emergency Exit in just a few sentences. I mean, I could describe EE as a heroic quest adventure set in an urban fantasy setting. I could go on about its varied and growing cast, each with a rich background that even now slowly is emerging. I could even talk about its massive crossover potential utilizing dimension travel (and two crossovers and a drive-by multi-day cameo during the Crossover Wars to date) as part of its “quest storyline.” But doing so ends up only telling a bare portion of EE’s story.

This is both strength and a weakness for the comic. When EE first started out, it felt like your typical “wacky roommate” comic, with Eddie as the increasingly eccentric (and by that I mean batshit insane) comedic relief to Bob. Add in a super-intelligent cat (who has a massive crush on Bob… and yes, you can feel as disturbed at that thought as I do), and their eventual roommate Saya who is almost sociopathic in how she acts around people, and you have the firm foundation for a comic replete with wacky hijinks and pain-filled situations. And by pain-filled, I mean Saya physically pummeling those who annoy her. The cast grows from there to include Bob’s roommate, the demon possessing Bob, Bob’s girlfriend, the alien mailman with a hook for one hand, and more.

The problem is, we don’t really know what’s going on. Of course, Bob and the gang don’t really know what’s going on either, but that doesn’t stop them from going on a literal artifact hunt, using a dimensional portal in a neighbor’s cupboard to go from world to world. Nor are these traditional artifacts. I’m not talking the typical magic sword and shield. No. The first one looks like a psychedelic-painted car. The second, a necklace with a smiley face. The third, a psychedelic hourglass. (If you’ve noticed a pattern – funky color patterns – you’re not alone.)

Nor are they alone in this artifact quest. Not only are the apartment kids searching for the artifacts for their landlord, but fairly inept demonic baddies, working for the whimsical and not-exactly-evil Lord Kyran, are also after the widgets. And in some ways these villains are actually more interesting than the good guys. Nyos, for example, often speaks down to people with obscure words, and seems to seriously hate Saya’s sister (something he shares with Saya though he doesn’t know it). Alkia is much more homicidal and has to be restrained… and has already tried to kill two of the apartment gang. Orulla and Jurinjo are much simpler mentally, with Orulla just blindly following Lord Kyran and Jurinjo starting to question if he truly wants to be with them.

But Lord Kyran takes the cake. Not only does Kyran rely on a six-year-old child to double-check his plans (having obviously taken a page out of the Evil Overlords List), he gives his human researchers pay raises when they please him, and promotes an intelligent and talented human to be his second-in-command. (Okay, he also has the hots for her. But I can’t blame him.) Further, it seems that in the past he was the God of Hatred… a role he’s trying to avoid (to the point he’s left standing orders not to kill or try to kill the apartment kids… and came down on Alkia for disobeying his orders). And yet it seems he too may be manipulated from behind the scenes, though if by Nyos or by someone else remains to be seen.

If I were to try and sum up EE’s problems, then I’d say it’s trying to do too much. We have several different storylines going on at the same time, a cast of characters that… well, the cast page has settings for main cast, villains, support cast, minor characters, guest characters, and objects, with 54 separate listings. We’ve several potential relationships (including a protagonist that I don’t quite know if he’s bisexual or just has no problem flirting back with a blatantly gay neighbor), and Bob who not only has a girlfriend, but gets jealous over his super intelligent cat (the same cat who has fallen for him). Feel free to feel freaked out over that little tidbit as well.

While it works… there are times when it threatens to spiral out of control… and I’m not sure how NJ Huff manages to keep it all together. Still, there are several things that do work quite well with the comic. Eddie is one of them; I’m not sure if he’s an idiot savant (with the ability to make impossible inventions) or is just not human (and considering his ties with the landlord… who is definitely not human… it’s quite possible). Lord Kyran is the second thing that truly works and makes the comic worth reading. And for all the wacky hijinks, the growth and consideration put behind the characters is the third aspect of EEC that makes it worth reading… even if you’ll need crib notes from time to time.

Order of the Stick

One of the greatest strengths of Order of the Stick has to lie with its characterization. Of course, considering Rich Burlew uses glorified stick figures for the comic, a reliance on art wouldn’t get the comic very far, leaving storytelling and characterization as the two key aspects that carry this comic. OotS’s reliance on the wacky hijinks of his crew help to counterbalance a storyline that gets rather deep in places… and while some of the hijinks may have been run into the grave, every so often Burlew will unearth a few of the old ones and let them shamble across the monitor like a zombified clown.

Perhaps one of the more amusing of these hijinks has to deal with Elan’s little handpuppet, Banjo. The thought of Elan creating his own church based off of the concept of a “God of Puppets” (or rather, the state of mind of a God of Puppets) is somewhat amusing. Fortunately, after running with the puppet for a bit, Burlew buried him deep into the forgotten depths of the world, where he would only return upon hearing the call of Banjulhu… well, it would be fairly certain we’d heard the last of Banjo.

Thus our latest comic, with Banjo’s triumphant return as the object of worship for an island of orcs, was a shot out of the blue. And much like Q in the second Star Trek television series, Banjo’s appearance here isn’t overdone. Enough time has passed for the joke to recover some of its steam, and while it’s more than likely that we’ll be having Banjo-related wacky hijinks for the next half dozen or so comics, it’s workable now. Besides, it should be amusing to watch a somewhat-more-competent Elan deals with his mad godling, buoyed on the worship of an island of orcs, while leaving time for the occasional punchline.