Articles from and news about the premier and longest-running academic journal devoted to all aspects of cartooning and comics -- the International Journal of Comic Art (ISSN 1531-6793) published and edited by John Lent.

Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 15, 2026

Book Review - Filial Lines: Art Spiegelman, Alison Bechdel, and Comics Form

reviewed by Marie Dücker, Assistant Professor (University of Graz)

Emmy Waldman. Filial Lines: Art Spiegelman, Alison Bechdel, and Comics Form. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (Cambridge Studies in Graphic Narratives), 2026. 260 pp. ISBN: 978-1-009-54883-0 (Hardback). https://www.cambridge.org/9781009548830

Filial Lines opens with two passages that, as Emmy Waldman writes, stayed with her throughout the writing of this book: the “scribble game” at the start of Art Spiegelman’s Breakdowns: Portrait of the Artist as a Young %@&!*, in which mother and son take turns making random marks for the other to transform into a recognizable picture; and the moment in Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home in which Bechdel’s father hands her a funeral director’s wall calendar to write in, his own neat script already filling the first line. Both scenes, Waldman observes, make “lines on paper”—whether figurative or autobiographical—a relational rather than a solitary act. Both are also grimly shadowed by the suicide of the parent involved. This pairing of opening images is a canny and affecting way into the book’s central argument: that the comics form is uniquely suited to the visual working and reworking of familial inheritance, trauma, and creative filiation.

The book is organized into two main parts and an epilogue. Part I traverses five decades of Spiegelman’s output—from his underground Arcade strips to his post-Maus retrospective projects and his New Yorker work—through three formal tropes derived from comics’ own visual grammar: boxes, spirals, and tic-tac-toe. Chapter 1 reads Maus as a Jewish text in formal as well as thematic terms, tracing congruences between Spiegelman’s panel-boxes, the architected space of the Mishkan, and the practice of Midrash. Chapter 2 turns to Breakdowns and the figure of the spiral, arguing, via Edward Said’s theory of the dialectic between filiation and affiliation, that the filial ghosts Spiegelman cannot quite exorcise are precisely what authorize his modernist ambitions. Chapter 3 excavates a previously underexamined autobiographical character, “OXO,” and reads Spiegelman’s one-page New Yorker piece “Lost” (2016) as a return to the unresolved questions of Maus through the lens of a children’s game. Part II turns to Bechdel’s lesser-discussed memoirs, Are You My Mother? (2012) and The Secret to Superhuman Strength (2021), through two further formal figures: mirrors (as a way into mimesis, the mother-daughter bond, and the question of whether imitation can be enabling rather than merely replicative) and webs (as a figure for the bodily, material work of putting lines on paper, and for the possibilities of queer kinship and feminist community). An epilogue on Tessa Hulls’ Pulitzer Prize-winning Feeding Ghosts (2024) extends the book’s arguments to a new generation of graphic memoirists, proposing the braided river as a final formal figure for comics' negotiation of heterogeneous, transnational, and matrilineal histories.

What distinguishes Filial Lines from other scholarly monographs on Spiegelman and Bechdel, which has become a crowded field, is the sophisticated and elevated playfulness of Waldman’s formal methodology. Waldman is explicit that she does not offer her five figures (boxes, spirals, tic-tac-toe, mirrors, webs) as a strict taxonomy of the comics form, but rather as a “theatrical ensemble”: a cast of metaphors that help us encounter these works rather than simply classify them. This is a productive and intellectually honest distinction, and one that allows Waldman to bring psychoanalytic, feminist, and formalist frameworks to bear without forcing them into a false coherence. Her prose is consistently clear and vivid, and her close readings—whether of a single panel, a page layout, or the weight of a recurring motif—are among the sharpest I have read about in recent comics scholarship. The chapter on tic-tac-toe is especially pleasurable, yoking the grid of the gameboard to the grid of the comics page and using the mobile interplay of X and O to read the complexities of inherited trauma in Spiegelman’s largely neglected short work.

The book also makes a convincing case for rebalancing the scholarly attention devoted to Spiegelman and Bechdel’s most celebrated works. With only Maus and Fun Home to go on, Waldman notes, one might conclude that both cartoonists primarily come to voice through their fathers. Filial Lines demonstrates, by attending carefully to the fuller arc of each artist’s career, that it is the mother who looms largest across both corpuses—a reorientation that opens fresh critical ground. The juxtaposition of the two cartoonists is, moreover, consistently illuminating rather than merely comparative: Waldman traces a direct line of influence from Spiegelman to Bechdel while also mapping the significant differences in how each engages with modernism—Spiegelman through defamiliarizing formal experiment, Bechdel through a more ambivalent, affective working-through of the modernist canon as filial inheritance.

Filial Lines is highly recommended for scholars and students of comics studies, graphic memoir, feminist literature, Jewish American literature, and contemporary formalism. It is also, to a degree unusual in academic monographs on the medium, a pleasure to read: erudite, precise, and genuinely alive to what makes the comics form strange, beautiful, and necessary.

Sunday, November 15, 2020

Film Review: "I Am Still Your Child" featuring cartoonist Von Allan

Von Allan
I Am Still Your Child. Megan Durnford (writer/director). CatBird Films, 2018. 45:00. <http://iamstillyourchild.com/>

 
Lim Cheng Tju / CT Lim

As a genre, graphic medicine is on the ascendance and within that genre, comics on mental health are gaining prominence especially given how the recent global covid-19 crisis has affected mental wellbeing. Recently I moderated a panel on comics and mental health, featuring Singapore artists, Sonny Liew, James Tan, Anngee Neo and Mak Kean Loong.

 I Am Still Your Child, a 45-minute Canadian documentary written and directed by Megan Durnford, was released in 2018, and is a haunting testimony of children who had to take care of their parents who suffered from mental illness. It features three individuals in this situation – Sarah, a high school student; Jessy, an art student who is also in a band; and Von Allan, a comic book artist who self-publishes his own comics. Out of the three, Sarah and Jessy are still taking care of their parents while Von’s mother passed away in the 1990s when he was a young adult.

 While Sarah and Jessy’s stories are very powerful, our focus is on Von. Allan is a Canadian comic artist based in Ottawa. Comics helped him to survive a traumatic childhood. Superhero titles such as The X-Men were an escape for him -- something to keep him sane during the trying times. He struck out on his own at 18, worked in an independent bookstore, and learned to draw comics late in life. His mother passed away at the age of 48 in 1994 and 15 years later, Von’s first graphic novel, The Road To God Knows, was self-published and is a semi-autobiographical tale of a teenager’s relationship with her mentally-ill mother.

 The book led Megan Durnford to contacting Von in 2015 to be in a documentary she was making on individuals like Von -- children who had to take care of their parents who were manic depressive and suffering from bipolar disorder. While Sarah and Jessy were still going through their challenging family situations, Von showed what it is to survive such an experience. And it is reaffirming to see – one can get through this and still learn something valuable from it. As Von shared, “I think that the most positive impacts on my life is that it just gave me more sensitivity."

 Durnford had wanted to use images from the book in the documentary, but Allan was uncomfortable with that as he felt his early work was too rough. As a compromise, he redrew selected pages which was used in the film. On his website, Von shared the process here with a side by side comparison of the 2009 version with the 2017 redrawn pages. <https://www.vonallan.com/2017/09/on-getting-stronger.html>

 Surprisingly, Allan is not the first to tackle such a topic in Canadian comics. Chester Brown also drew about his schizophrenic mother in I Never Liked You (originally serialized as “Fuck” in Yummy Fur in the 1990s).

 I had not read Von Allan’s comics before and watching this documentary has made me curious about his work. Unfortunately The Road To God Knows is out of print, but his newer comics are for sale on his website or on Comixology. Some can be read for free online on his website. <https://www.vonallan.com/p/comics.html>

 You can watch I Am Still Your Child for free if you are in Canada. Or you can buy the DVD from the official website. The film website provided this sobering fact: “More than half a million of Canada’s frontline mental healthcare “workers” are less than twelve years old. They’re called COPMI – Children of a Parent with Mental Illness – and there are 575,000 of them in Canada.” This is an important issue and a documentary definitely worth watching.

 A version of this review will be in print in IJOCA 22:2.