Exhibit Review: Ralph Steadman: And Another Thing (2024) at American University Museum

 by Mike Rhode

fig. 1 self-portrait

Ralph Steadman: And Another Thing. Sadie Williams (Ralph Steadman Art Collection director) and Andrea Lee Harris (exhibition coordinator). Washington, DC: American University Museum at the Katzen. September 7 – December 8, 2024. https://www.american.edu/cas/museum/2024/and-another-thing-steadman.cfm

Ralph Steadman (fig. 1) is a British cartoonist and illustrator who has been active since the late 1950s but broke through in America with his collaborations with Hunter Thompson for Rolling Stone magazine in the early 1970s. He is a trenchant and engaged observer of politics, but also illustrates classic books and alcoholic beverage labels. His distinctive style, augmented with watercolor splotches, is immediately recognizable to those who know his work. One pleasure of this exhibit is seeing earlier works, before that style solidified. When he begins working in color regularly on a large scale, his artwork is amazing, and it is fascinating to see originals of material usually meant for smaller illustration reproductions.

This exhibit was conceived as a follow-up to 2018’s successful Ralph Steadman: A Retrospective (see https://www.american.edu/cas/museum/2018/ralph-steadman-retrospective.cfm ). The first exhibit was curated by London’s Cartoon Museum’s Anita O'Brien. This one is curated by Steadman’s daughter, Williams, and Harris, a professional exhibit designer. Steven Heller[i] asked about the creation of this exhibit which included “149 artworks and memorabilia,”

Heller: Sadie, as co-curator and also Ralph’s daughter, how did this exhibition come together?

Williams: Between 2016 and 2019 we were touring a retrospective of 110 original artworks to venues in the USA, including the Society of Illustrator in New York and the Jordan Schnitzer Art Museum in Eugene, OR. It was incredibly well-received, but in 2020 the pandemic meant we had to cancel the last two venues. That exhibition was sponsored by United Therapeutics because their incredible CEO, Martine Rothblatt, is a fan and has become a friend over the years.

Early in 2023, Martine said she would like to see a new exhibition put together and that, once again, United Therapeutics would sponsor it. It was great to assemble the team again including co-ordinator Andrea Harris (she’s a force of nature), and start booking in venues. It is so special to launch it at the AU [American University] Museum, where we had such an amazing reception in 2017, and also get the Bates College Museum of Art in Maine into the schedule, as that was one of the venues we had to cancel.

 I recommend reading the rest of the interview to understand more of the thinking that went into this exhibit. As with the earlier show, an excellent catalogue is available https://www.ralphsteadmanshop.com/products/and-another-thing-catalogue-soft-case

fig. 2

fig. 3

 To reach the exhibit on the upper third floor of the museum, one either takes an extremely long set of stairs (they run the entire length of museum), or a nondescript elevator. This is not a metaphor, but it does point out a couple of problems with this otherwise excellent exhibit. The Katzen building, of which the museum is a small part of acting as an endcap at an entrance to the campus, is a brutalist concrete building that is really designed for large pieces of modern art, and not for a paper art show. The walls are curved and very high and the building is starkly white. If you brave the steps, which I believe is the intended way to approach it, at the top you were greeted with five pieces (three are clearly labelled reproductions) from Steadman's most famous collaboration, Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas (fig. 2). A small caricature sculpture of Hunter Thompson was also displayed here and appeared out of place… so much so that I paid no attention to it, but literally as I was writing this review, an edition of 25 reproductions of it went on sale for £975 each.  (fig. 3)

 

fig. 4

However, if you take the elevator, you come out and what appears to be the back of the exhibit, facing Steadman’s student and early work (fig. 4). The other problem illuminated by either of these approaches is that none of the artwork’s groupings was labeled and it was left to the viewer to deduce where they might fit in his career. The building complicates this because there are no clear demarcation lines and very few walls. If you did go up the steps and see the five pieces at the top, you then had to turn about 60° to your left to actually enter the exhibit. (fig. 5) 

fig. 5

 

And then you’re faced with a choice. There were walls to either side of you, as well as a right-angled temporary wall in front of you. If you're an American who’s old enough to drive, do you head to the wall on your right? Or do you follow the wall on your left because you’re standing closest to it?  Or do you go up the middle to the two painted temporary walls?  If you chose to follow the driving conventions, you ended up at a part of the exhibit (fig. 6) that covers Steadman’s children's books, as well as other books such as Animal Farm and Alice in Wonderland, (fig. 6a) and his work with journalist Will Self. Several of these children's books on the long, curved wall and the temporary wall facing it, such as Little Prince and the Tiger Cat (1967), are done in styles at one would not have normally recognized as his work ((fig. 6b, fig. 6c).

 

 

 

fig. 6

fig. 6a

 

 

 

fig. 6b

fig. 6c

 If you went along the other wall (fig. 7), you saw book illustrations for Treasure Island, Fahrenheit 451, The Curse of Lono, and I, Leonardo. The color artwork was absolutely enthralling especially on projects he obviously loved such as the Leonardo book. This section then included more Will Self collaborations, and then an exhibit statement from the curators (fig. 8e). This statement should have been placed both at the main entrance by the stairs, and on the wall by the elevator. As it was, it was in the middle of the exhibit in about as nondescript spot as could have been chosen.

(fig. 7)

 

fig. 7a

 In the middle, between the two book sections, on blue-painted temporary walls (fig. 8) was political material. One wall was caricatures of American presidents (and John McCain) (fig. 8a) while the other contained issues that caught Steadman’s attention such as famine in Africa or American aggression (figs. 8b-d). The people I saw the exhibit with, experts on other types of comics, were particularly unhappy with the lack of labelling of the subjects, which have faded in memory as political cartoons or caricatures frequently do.

 

 

(fig. 8)

 

 

fig. 8a

 

fig. 8b

fig. 8c

fig. 8d

fig. 8e - Exhibit statement

 As noted, on the other side of one of the temporary walls were children's book illustrations (fig 6c), while on the reverse of the American president’s section was early commercial material. Most appears to be from fairly early in Steadman’s career when he was working with Private Eye magazine (fig. 9) and doing far more work in straight black and white, without the colored ink spots and splotches he would become known for. If he had continued in this style, my personal feeling is that he would be far less known and appreciated than he is today. Facing this temporary wall were portraits or caricatures commonly of British subjects (figs. 10, 11), that blended into other commercial work and ended with his recent work for the Flying Dog Brewery (fig. 12). An exhibit case at the end of this section shows off many of the commercial pieces he's done as well as some tools of his trade such as photographic references, 1970s newsprint editions of Rolling Stone, a horse racing sporting magazine, a Breaking Bad Blu-ray cover, and the like (fig. 13). He has had a long career and continually re-invented himself (there are two NFTs in the show but they are repurposed from existing art, fig. 14), but at his heart, Steadman is always a commercial illustrator.

fig. 9 Private Eye pages

fig. 10

fig. 11

fig. 12 beer label

fig. 13

fig. 14 - Trough of Disillusionment NFT

 The rest of the exhibit is in what, on a different floor, is a separate room. On this level, it is not walled off, yet functions as a distinct space. As noted, if you exited the elevator here, you would see Steadman’s early work including samples clipped from newspapers of his Teeny pocket comic (aka comic panel) and school drawings including dinosaurs in a museum. The two anatomical drawings are highlighted as being the beginning of a theme that runs through his works to the current day. One cartoon in particular is shown twice as it shows how he decided to stop using a typical British non-de-plume of Stead, in favor of signing his full name. (figs. 15-18)

fig. 15 Teeny pocket comics

 

fig. 16

fig. 17

fig. 18

 There was also an exhibit case in the side area with other tools of his trade -- lots of pens and material from his archives -- as well as three pieces of jewelry which, as befits a commercial artist, will be for sale in a new venture that he has arranged with the jewelry maker. (fig. 19) The final corner nook of the exhibit features some of his environmental work done in collaboration with Ceri Levy on endangered or extinct (but also non-existent) birds and mammals. (fig. 20) “Paranoids,” a very small selection of manually manipulated Polaroid prints (fig. 21) showed an interesting experiment that probably had no real future or practical application, but was remarked upon by some viewers when I walked past. There was also a very long shelf, a pre-existing feature of the building’s architecture that overlooks the atrium/stairway, that has an example of about 15 or 20 of the variety of books he's worked on over his career. (figs. 22-24)

fig. 19

 

fig. 20

fig. 21

  

fig. 22

fig. 23

fig. 24

fig. 25 - overview facing backward into the main exhibit

fig. 26 - Thompson statue

The exhibit, with a wealth of original art, was marvelous, but would have benefited from a firmer hand curating it (or perhaps one less personally embedded in his life) and better labeling. Frequently the viewer was left to deduce what part of Steadman’s career one was viewing, and how important that particular art work/style was to his whole career. If one read all the individual object labels, you would have a good overview of his career, but that is a very demanding way to see an exhibit. Actively working to bookend the previous exhibit also meant curatorial choices were made that might have benefited from additional labels or text. In the Heller interview, Williams said, “Anita O’Brien did such an amazing job with the original exhibition that I used that as a template. I am quite practical in these things, and I find having something visual to work with very helpful. I literally took one of the old catalogues from the last exhibition and replaced like with like, sticking in print-outs of pieces to replace the existing ones with. Then I pulled in a few additional pieces to bulk out some areas, like the writers, and the presidents of the United States.” In some ways, the exhibit probably catered too much to those with pre-existing knowledge of Steadman’s art and career. Since so much of his work is commercial illustration, more explanations of the original art on display versus the final product of a book, or advertisement, or magazine illustration would have been useful. However, this was an exhibit of excellent art by a long-standing master cartoonist and illustrator, and it was a true pleasure to see these treasures of original art. The fact that there is a catalogue for the show is a significant added benefit. I for one would be pleased to see this exhibit duology turn into a trilogy.

Published concurrently on ComicsDC and IJOCA blogs.

---

[i] Heller, Steven. 2024. “’Serial Polluter’ Ralph Steadman Gets the Last Laugh,” The Daily Heller (October 2): https://www.printmag.com/daily-heller/the-daily-heller-ralph-steadman-exhibition/ . Also worth reading is “Ralph Steadman on Art, Poetry, and Hunter S. Thompson's Mean Streak,” Rolling Stone (August 25, 2024): https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-pictures/ralph-steadman-illustrations-hunter-thomson-art-1235084502/george-orwell/

 

Book review: Marie Duval: Maverick Victorian Cartoonist by Simon Grenann, Roger Sabin, and Julian Waite

Simon Grenann, Roger Sabin, and Julian Waite. Marie Duval: Maverick Victorian Cartoonist. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2020. 288 pages, £85.00 978-1526133540. https://manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9781526133564

Reviewed by Lizzy Walker

            Marie Duval: Maverick Victorian Cartoonist is the first, and much-needed, critical survey of Marie Duval's body of work. Duval is one of a few pseudonyms used by Isabella Émilie de Tessier, who was an actress on the London stage and also a prolific cartoonist, with a wealth of comics and cartoons published between 1860 and 1885. The authors examined various primary sources to analyze Duval's major themes, vision, and processes in relation to historic contexts. They provide a brief biography of Marie Duval, stitched together from public records, newspaper articles, and her body of work. They also discuss their website The Marie Duval Archive https://www.marieduval.org/  created in 2016 as a key resource that provides online information about Duval and seeks out her unknown work.

            The book is divided into two main parts: Part I, Work, and Part II: Depicting and Performing. There are also two appendices on attribution and terminology. Part I is comprised of five chapters which "examines Duval within her own context, presenting an overview of the publishing industry and her place and influence in it" (p. 6). Part II, Depicting and Performing, consists of four chapters where her accomplishments are highlighted, along with the significance of her cartoons and characters (p. 6).

            Part I opens with a chapter on Duval's role working in Judy, a magazine where Duval was employed from 1869 through 1885. Sabin asserts that Judy was not merely a "low-level Punch clone" but was "innovative and often pioneering" (p. 11) and argues that Duval, as a cartoonist, was essential to the publication's development. After all, a woman was a key contributor in a time when most society held they were supposed to be relegated to more domestic roles and pursuits. He explains a serio-comic magazine is a publication that covers serious topics, such as politics and daily news, as well as more leisurely topics, such as fashion, humorous stories, cartoons and comic strips. Sabin also discusses the importance of the periodical itself, including the topics, the layout of the contents, and other producers of Judy, such as cartoonist William Boucher, editor Charles Henry Ross, owner and publisher William Spencer Johnson, and others.

            This brings us to Marie Duval herself. Considering her brief history, including her time as an actor and that she contributed art to other publications, Sabin states that it "is important to mention these other endeavors because they indicate that Duval, like her fellow practitioners, was part of the Victorian swirl of hustling and entrepreneurship. If you had a skill, you used it" (p. 21). Sabin discusses Duval's most prolific work on Ally Sloper; her unique style; influences such as Doré and Cruikshank; and content and subject matter of her strips (not shying away from mentioning racist and anti-Semitic content), as well as her theater work and how she was able to "bring the stage to the page" (p. 27). Sabin concludes the chapter with further discussion of The Marie Duval Archive in that as an online resource of her work, it effectively removes the context of the Victorian period. The need for this book is clear from this statement alone. By providing context into the publishing cycle in the Victorian era with an analysis of Duval's work with Judy as a whole, readers get a better idea of her influence on publishing and comics in that era.

            In the second chapter, Grennan considers how women "undertook work, performed work and visualised work" (p. 40). The author provides an overview of women's employment in the Victorian period and asserts that employment "was thought to make women masculine because employment was considered to be masculine. As a result, employment for women challenged conceptions of the significance of domestic life, upon which the highest personal premium was placed, for women rather than men" (p. 40). Grennan, referring to the women's household management roles, says "work in one's own house was not work, because it was not employment" (p. 39). One could ask if this notion has changed much in the following 150 years. Sabin noted that Duval and other women who opted to enter the workforce outside the domestic realm, which included domestic work, were considered to be masculinized, despite the fact they are acting as caregivers (e.g. the employment of governesses). Grennan then juxtaposes Margaret Beetham's assertion, that with the rise of mid-to-late century periodical journal publishing, there came "new visualisations of femininity," especially with regard to advertisements directed at women readers, with Duval's rendering of women in her comics (p. 46). Another juxtaposition Grennan mentions regarding Beetham and Duval is the benchmarks of gender, as well as providing a great example of how Duval contradicted an ad page in Ally Sloper's Comic Kalendar for 1878 (p. 49). Grennan examines the fictional woman employee in The Girl of the Period Miscellany and fictional editor Miss Echo, comparing them to Duval's own work. The author closes the chapter with the concept of anonymity and the adoption of pseudonyms, which undoubtedly opened up the employment field in publications more widely to women than by writing under their own names and posits reasons for Duval's adopting more than one pseudonym, as these allowed her to explore different styles of illustration (p. 59).

            In Chapter 3, Waite maps Duval's time on the stage to her cartoons published in Judy. The author looks at Duval's time as an actress, from early appearances, her performances in Charles Ross' lost play Clam, as well as Silence, and The Beggar's Uproar, her time on tour, and in other plays. While she was on tour, she was constantly drawing and publishing, but her comics do not reveal personal details about Duval (p. 75). Waite examines Duval's late acting career and, with a chronology of her life and works, its influences on her cartoons and comics (p. 93). A section is devoted to Duval's involvement in the Such and Such divorce case in 1873 (p. 90). The chapter ends with the notion that there "are no known portraits of Marie Duval" in existence (p. 96). Despite the small amounts of evidence available, Waite provides a good analysis of how Duval's experiences with acting affected her work for Judy.

            In Chapter 4, Sabin considers Duval's children's book, Queens & Kings and Other Things, written under the pseudonym S. A. the Princess Hesse Schwartzbourg. Sabin argues that her "naïve drawing style she had developed at Judy made her a natural choice for a children's book" (p. 101). He also mentions while her name was not included in the creation of the work, her readers could easily recognize her distinct style and would purchase the book. The author discusses the creation and rise of the children's book, as well as the gift book (p. 104). Sabin compares Duval and Edward Lear in terms of their work and how both children and adults appreciated them, the latter's influence on Duval's work, and where the similarities stopped and Duval diverged from Lear, in terms of verse, tone, and art style (p. 109). Sabin then moves on to discuss the content of Queens & Kings and Other Things, Duval's rich illustrations of medieval fashion and royalty, of which could be attributed to her stage work, and how the book was received by the public -- sadly not a roaring success.

            Concluding the section on work, Grennan looks at women and gender in the printing business. He presents a framework for "considering the material conditions, social expectations, opportunities, prohibitions and representations of the type of work in the production of periodical publications" (p. 123). In so doing, Grennan explains that what modern readers may know as the process of creating a comic book involving a penciller, an inker, a colorist and so on, has nothing to do with Duval, who apparently drew directly on the engraving woodblock. Most cartoonists draw on paper, and then the engraver would transfer the illustration, sometimes by gluing the paper to the woodblock and carving through it. He describes general woodblock processes and further discussion of women's employment in printing, including Duval's own work.  

            Part II: Depicting and performing opens with the sixth chapter, Grennan's "The significance of Duval's drawing style." In this, he examines the "surviving public, non-academic commentary on Marie Duval's work from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries" and that it is "brief and easy to summarize" (p. 137). Basically, her art was judged by critics as elementary or downright terrible, and humorless, which Grennan asserts was a result of Victorian sexism and prejudice. The author also examines her parodies of various artworks displayed at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibitions of 1880 and 1876, and concludes the chapter declaring that Duval "made a living recklessly, by drawing attention to the contradictions of a working life that she shared with her readers, so as to provoke laughter and, in doing so, to sell the next publication, bring on the next comics register and create a new visual culture" (p. 159).

            In Chapter 7, Waite looks at "nineteenth-century theories of acting in relation to visual aspects of the craft" to determine whether there is evidence that Duval's role as an actor influenced her work as a cartoonist (p. 160). Waite analyses resources including unpublished manuscripts and diaries of contemporary performers to Duval and published acting manuals that she and others in the theater either had access to or had knowledge of. He also takes a closer look at her Ally Sloper cartoons as a means to show her own performance as an "imperfect artist" (p. 182-183).   

            In Chapter 8, "Waite continues from Chapter 3 his analysis of the theater, specifically "Victorian spectacle" such as pantomime and special theatrical effects that "involved the manipulation of bodies in a way entirely unrecorded in the usual drawing tropes of the nineteenth century, arising as they did from classical training and fine art models", as an influence on Duval's illustrations (p. 187). There is extensive analysis of transformations scenes and characters in pantomime performances, as well as what the author terms as "flying bodies" and physical performance, such as the extreme physical work of the Hanlon-Lee Brothers and circus and music hall acts, and Duval's incorporating certain elements into her artwork. Waite concludes that, because of Duval's potential access to circus and music hall acts, and participation in acting herself, she may have put her observations to use in her cartoons and  "allowed her to depict the actions and presence of bodies in space through a unique gestural, graphic style that communicates movement" rather than simply relying on the theater manuals and other works available (p. 214).

            In the closing chapter, Sabin examines Duval's comics and cartoons attempting to answer whether she is "a 'women's cartoonist' (p. 216) and looks at other women in the cartooning business and women's magazines as an emerging genre. Sabin notes that because of the lack of primary resources with such information, that "the historical record relating to women is sparse to the point of near invisibility" which he assigns to prejudice. The author discusses the content of Judy, such as fashion, politics, and advertising, and how Duval "fit in" with the publication (p. 222), presenting perhaps why she chose Duval as a penname, her subject matter, and her comedy. 

            Authors Simon Grennan (Leading Research Fellow at the University of Chester), Roger Sabin (Professor of Popular Culture at the University of the Arts London), and Julian Waite  (independent scholar and former Senior Lecturer in Performing Arts and Programme Leader MA Drama at the University of Chester) provide valuable analyses of Marie Duval's works, both as a cartoonist and as an actor on the London stage. They place her firmly in the important tradition of British magazine cartooning. Alongside the text, the authors include a rich selection of Duval's art, as well as of other contemporaries. In creating this volume, Grennan, Sabin, and Waite have created a multidisciplinary text that would be good for comics studies, gender studies, art or theater history, and more. It is also a good resource for those interested in digital humanities and archives, as libraries and special collections are increasingly making such materials accessible by digitizing resources. This text is an excellent example of what scholars can do with digitized collections. The authors mention that comprehensive mapping work has not yet been developed between her stage work and artistic efforts that might provide even more information on this important cartoonist. This book is the first step in mapping Duval's two career paths.

Book Review- The Comic Book Western: New Perspectives on a Global Genre

 Reviewed by Chris York

Christopher Conway and Antionette Sol. The Comic Book Western: New Perspectives on a Global Genre. University of Nebraska Press, 2022. https://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/nebraska/9781496218995/ 

[Until December 31, all books are half price - enter 6HLW22 in the promotion code field of your shopping cart and click "Add Promotion Code" when making your purchase.]

 Christopher Conway and Antionette Sol have assembled a well-conceived and well-executed anthology exploring the development of the Western genre in international comic books. Their introduction lays the foundation for the book by briefly summarizing the origins of the genre within the American comic book industry and the conduits through which the genre initially established itself in other nations. The introduction, however, is the last time the United States is the focus of the anthology. All ten of the subsequent chapters of the book are devoted to the Western within different comics traditions, Though Conway and Sol discuss the role of U.S. companies in popularizing the Western comic abroad, nearly all of the chapters are devoted to stories developed within the comics industries of these different nations, as opposed to merely imported comics.

            It may seem counter-intuitive that a genre so steeped in the ideological morass of exceptionalism, individualism, and colonialism peculiar to the United States would enjoy enduring popularity with international audiences. Even a casual observer of comics around the world, however, knows that the Western’s appeal is widespread. The Comic Book Western addresses how the genre gained a foothold internationally, but also how the genre evolved and, in many cases, thrived within these disparate cultures. The overarching premise of the book is that the global popularity of the Western genre has endured because creators “reterritorialize” or “destabilize” the conventions of the genre, adapting its recognizable conventions to fit within different cultural milieus.

The structure of the individual chapters is remarkably uniform for an anthology. Though the book is divided into “Transnational Histories” and "Critical Reinscriptions,” the difference between the sections seems to be one of degree. All of the chapters trace the growth of the Western within a specific comics tradition, many of them reaching back into the 19th century to identify the culture’s first exposure to the western form.  Each chapter also provides a deeper analysis of a specific title or titles to illustrate the unique character of the Western in that nation. Furthermore, the anthology strikes a good balance between chapters that focus on well-established, critically-acclaimed titles, such as Blueberry and Sargento Kirk, and titles that are more obscure.

            Each chapter traces what the editors call the “vital dialogues with local and transnational currents” that comprise the Western tradition around the world (3).  For instance, Sol’s chapter on Blueberry and the Franco-Belgian tradition identifies 1960s counter cultures as part of the impetus behind Charlier and Giraud’s anti-hero. While the counter-cultural revolutions of the 1960s changed the Western in nations around the world, Sol also notes that Blueberry’s aesthetic owes a great deal to the “local” cinematic tradition of the French New Wave.

            Much of the “reterritotrialization” occurs through the merging of genres. Manuela Borzone’s chapter notes how Argentinian creators merged the Western with their own gauchesca tradition. Similarly, Christopher Conway shows that, despite their almost exclusive portrayal of American settings and the absence of Mexican characters, Mexican Westerns are infused with melodramatic conventions of sentimentality and family values that make them a uniquely local product.

            In addition to the nations mentioned above, The Comic Book Western includes chapters on Germany, Italy, Poland, Great Britain, Spain, Japan and Canada. Joel Deshaye’s chapter on Canada is noteworthy because it includes the only exploration of an indigenous creator using comic book conventions and Western themes. Several chapters touch upon the portrayal of Indigenous Americans, but Deshaye’s discussion of David Garneau’s comics-inspired paintings—which make use of panels, gutters, and thought bubbles—is the only chapter to address an artist whose heritage is from one of the indigenous nations that the genre so exploits.

            The anthology contains sixteen black and white illustrations. Many of the images are covers. Nearly all of the images do important work, and the authors all explicate them well. However, I found myself wanting more. With such a wide range of source material, at least some of the comics are bound to be unfamiliar to portions of the readership. This is not a problem unique to this anthology of course. I would guess this was a limitation imposed by the publisher and not the editors. A more liberal use of images could have better illustrated points the authors are making.

            In the end, though, my criticisms are few. Conway and Sol have assembled a rich anthology, a balanced, insightful volume that effectively addresses the global nature of its subject. In their introduction, they articulate the modest hope that the book helps “to make the study of comic book Westerns less implausible than it has been”(6). I have no doubt of that. In fact, I suspect comics scholars interested in the Western genre, or in comparative studies in general, will find this a useful resource for years to come.

 

Table of Contents
Introduction: The Globalization of the Comic Book Western by Christopher Conway and Antoinette Sol

Part 1. Transnational Histories

1.      Italian Western Comics and the Myth of the Open Frontier by Simone Castaldi

2. Comic Book Westerns and the Melodramatic Imagination in Mexico by Christopher Conway

3. German Western Readers and the Transnational Imagination by Johannes Fehrle

4. Beyond Parody: Polish Comic Book Westerns from the 1960s through the 2010s by Marek Paryz

5. Blueberry: Remaking the Western in Franco-Belgian Bandes dessinées by Antoinette Sol

Part 2. Critical Reinscriptions

6. Argentina’s Outlaws and the Revisionist Western: The Case of Héctor Germán Oesterheld and Hugo Pratt’s Sargento Kirk by Manuela Borzone

7. British Comics and the Western: The Future West, the Supernatural, and Strong Women in The HellTrekkers, The Dead Man, and Missionary Man by Lee Broughton

8. Canada’s Triumph Comics and David Garneau’s Métis Response to the “Indian” of the Comic Book Western by Joel Deshaye

9. A Spanish View of the American West: El Coyote and His Comic Magazine by David Rio

10. Faraway So Close: The Representation of the American West in Igarashi Yumiko’s Mayme Angel by Rebecca Suter

Index