If you’ve been paying attention to the current trends in children’s literature, you’re probably well aware of the number of graphic novels that are being published and devoured by eager readers. Sneak a peek at Amazon’s Hot Release List and consider how many fall under that umbrella or this prediction by Scholastic Books for trends in 2017, specifically noting the “continual growth and demand for graphic novels.”
This isn’t anything new. In fact, as I dug into my research for this post, I came across this article form 2007 discussing the growing trend in the popularity of graphic novels. Interestingly, it used one of the books I had planned on including in this post as an example. Kudos to this blogger who ten years ago predicted: “I expect we will see more and more of this in the kids’ market.”
I’m not sure if the wordless books I have today technically fall into the graphic novel category but I think it’s difficult (and probably a moot point) to come up with an exact definition for what exactly a graphic novel is. If we depend on my friend Noah again from the other day, a graphic novel is “a story that is presented in comic-strip format and published as a book.”
This is where it gets dicey because the logical next question is “OK, so what’s the difference between a comic book and a graphic novel?” I am in no way qualified (or brave enough) to jump into that debate but it’s mostly agreed upon that the biggest difference is that a graphic novel is often a single book and a comic book is serial in nature. Even that comparison doesn’t always hold water so I’m going to slowly back away from the potential bomb I may have detonated and leave that up to “another blog, another day.” Instead, let’s focus on the major commonality; illustration.
It seems like a fairly obvious thing to say that illustration is key to a graphic novel and more specifically to our discussion here, the two wordless picture books that I’ve chosen to highlight here that are stylized much like a graphic novel. They contain both full page and paneled images, allowing them to be “read” much like a very long comic strip. What I find interesting about these wordless versions though is twofold; first, how the reader tells the story and second, what the author “hides” within the illustration that adds layers to the story without words.
When I was looking back over the wordless titles I had read, attempting to decide which to include and how to organize my posts for the category, the Polo stories by French author Regis Faller and the set of three works by Australian author Gregory Rogers featuring a boy, a bear and the Bard stood apart for their comic strip paneling. Unlike other wordless books, I felt as if this led to a more linear version of how the story was to be read. Action became sequential and directive. The story was still left open to reader interpretation, but in a more limited sense as to what is actually seen on the page. But, what about we don’t see on the page?
I will readily admit that my knowledge of the finer points of comics is extremely limited, so I pulled out my handy copy of Understanding Comics by Scout McCloud for help. To clarify my ‘what the reader does not see on the page’ is the space between the panels, also referred to as the “gutter.” As McCloud explains “Here in the limbo of the gutter, human imagination takes two separate images and transforms them into a single idea. Nothing is seen between the two panels, but experience tells you something must be there!”
It’s possible then, that even though the images progress is a much more direct fashion, many different readings of these wordless books may occur by not only how the reader interprets the picture but also how they fill the gutter. In essence, these books flex even more imagination muscle than other wordless text because they make it vital for the reader to create their own story of what happens not only on the page, but off it as well. To me, this is interesting because when we read a comic we do this without even realizing it, sometimes guided by the images and sometimes the text. With the absence of text entirely each reader follows the same path but may tell a completely different story.
Acknowledging this “gap” in the storytelling, I took a closer look at The Adventures of Polo by Faller.
The first of six titles that now have been published in the United States introduces readers to The World of Polo, the little dog who travels the world and beyond, equipped with only his backpack of supplies. Polo is resourceful, showing his ingenuity throughout the story by using the tools he has at hand. The colors are bright and bold, and I would liken the style more to a cartoon than a comic and my first thoughts included that this combination of color and style would more likely appeal to a younger reader.
Upon closer inspection, I realized that the gutters were reflective of this as well. The time lapse the reader created in them from panel to panel was minimal, easily inferred by any age reader. This is not to say that the story would not be enjoyed by older readers or that they would not employ the same storytelling techniques that we discussed with other wordless texts. What I am suggesting is that this may be an ideal story to explore those ideas and introduce conventions of comics with younger readers. I haven’t had a chance to read all of the Polo books, but I would highly suggest Polo and the Runaway Book as well.
Similar to Polo, the titular Hero of Little Street uses ingenuity to navigate an unknown world, that of Little Street, Delft in seventeenth-century Holland. He arrives there after escaping from bullies who chased him into a museum. Exploring the museum, he’s joined by a dog, who leaps from a painting he’s passing by. The twosome then enters a different painting of a young girl seated at a piano. She plays, they dance and then she shows them a door that leads them to Little Street.
Let me stop before I go any further. What I’ve outlined above follows the first half of the book fairly closely and would probably be similar to how it would be recalled by most readers. There is nothing incorrect in this description, but a closer look at clues left in the illustrations by Rogers add a richer meaning to the overall tale.
First, it’s worth noting that this is the second book of Rogers featuring The Boy. The first, The Boy, The Bear, The Baron, The Bard, ends where this one begins, with The Boy wandering the streets of London. This knowledge isn’t imperative, but a perceptive reader may then note that opening scenes of the story actually take place in Trafalgar Square, right in front of a very specific museum, The National Gallery in London. As The Boy wanders the museum, those familiar with Rogers work may notice The Bear and The Bard in a few of the paintings. The little dog that joins the boy is first seen in a full image of a painting, an accurate representation of the Arnolfini Portrait by Jan van Eyck.
Van Eyck’s work dates back to the 14th century and he is often considered one of the founders of the Early Netherlandish painting school. This is important to keep in mind when considering that the painting the duo then enters is by another Dutch master, Johannes Vermeer. This painting, Lady Seated at a Virginal is another accurate depiction (except for The Bear and The Bard hiding in the painting inside the painting!) of a piece of art that is actually housed at The National Gallery.
The door The Lady escorts The Boy and his dog through opens to a full-page depiction of one more of Vermeer’s works, The Little Street.
You can see that this second paragraph is much richer in information and detail that my first telling. For the sake of transparency, let me perfectly honest when I say that I did not pick up the majority of those connections on my initial reading. My art history knowledge is similar to my knowledge of comics – minimal at best. It wasn’t until I read the text on the jacket flap which indicates “the two slip into a Vermeer painting” that I went back and did a little more digging and turned up all those finely crafted details woven in by Rogers. I was delighted, amazed and educated, but in all honesty, it doesn’t really change the way the basic nature of the story. This presents a unique opportunity then for the reader to experience the text on an initial reading one way and then a completely different way subsequent to realization of the subtext Rogers created. I would argue that these books could be enjoyed and “read” by any age reader but that enjoyment is enriched and perhaps better appreciated with the understanding of the layers built into the illustrations. I haven’t had the chance to read it, but the third in Rogers’ series is Midsummer Knight.
The blending of styles, wordless book with comic formatting is what makes these series unique in the big picture sense. Each then uses different conventions to reach their audience without words, allowing the reader to follow the story in a linear fashion but tell it in their own way. On Tuesday I’ll be back with the last post in our Wordless category. These books take the direct opposite approach of these – they feature wide open spreads that could be “read” from left to right, up to down or diagonal depending on what appeals to the reader, but still manage to convey a sense of forward momentum with each flip of the page. See you back here then!
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