Book review: Jewish Women in Comics: Bodies and Borders

reviewed by John A. Lent

Heike Bauer, Andrea Greenbaum, and Sarah Lightman, eds. Jewish Women in Comics:  Bodies and Borders. Syracuse, NY:  Syracuse University Press, 2023. 296 pp. US $39.95 Paperback. ISBN  978-0-8156-3781-3. https://press.syr.edu/supressbooks/5160/jewish-women-in-comics/

Using the words of editors Heike Bauer, Andrea Greenbaum, and Sara Lightman, Jewish Women in Comics:  Bodies and Borders “turns to comics to examine how Jewish women’s lives are constituted by gender, sexuality, religion, history, and culture.” The editors acknowledge they proceeded to do this by borrowing the organizational structure of Lightman’s 2014 Graphic Details:  Confessional Comics by Jewish Women, the first book on Jewish women and comics. That structure consisted of reproductions of specific comics with introductions by researchers, interviews, and critical essays; nearly all works portrayed or studied are autobiographical or autobiography-inspired.

Most of the comics reproduced are short (under ten pages), each including a handful or fewer pages of introductory remarks, in a case or two, not insightful or useful, being little more an a rehashing of the story’s plot. Much more in-depth and related to Jewishness are F. K. Schoeman’s analysis of Miriam Libicki’s “minor pregnancy scare,” that brings in topics such as Jews and mice, Jewish law about menstruating women, and Art Spiegelman’s Maus, and Michael Green and MK Czerwiec’s introduction to Marissa Moss and Joshua Feder’s Last Things:  A Graphic Memoir of Loss and Love, where they recount how Moss decided to use the graphic medicine form to tell about her husband’s seven month illness that led to his death, and, subsequently, her use of Jewish ritual to fill the emptiness after his demise.

The comics themselves do a more than credible job capturing the dilemmas, and the emotions attached, that Jewish women (and non-Jewish women?) encounter, including illness, trauma, motherhood, queerness, menstruation, miscarriages, infertility, war, and family life. The stories around these issues are captivating and meaningful‒Emily Steinberg’s “infertility journey,” symbolized by an ever-growing egg as she confidently thinks she will become pregnant, sadly ending with a drawing of her encased in a broken egg; Nancy K. Miller’s cartoon collages depicting her traveling to another realm of existence “upon being diagnosed with lung cancer, and Sarah Lightman’s “deeply confessional account of the ways we come to form identities and articulate selves through stories.” Helen Blejerman’s Lulu la sensationelle is innovative in approach as she tells of her alter ego, seven-year-old Lulu, who deals with her mother who has a nervous breakdown and moves into the bathroom. Unique is that the story is told without a glimpse of Lulu or her mother. The story that veteran cartoonist Sharon Rudahl tells, Die Bubbeh (The Grandmother), is more fully drawn and developed; it tells how her grandmother fled an antisemitic situation in Ukraine with her arranged-marriage husband and son, leaving behind her lover and the dreams they had. Rudahl asserts, “This is the story of my life in a previous incarnation‒the story of my grandmother Eva.”

The interviews presented are with Amy Kurzweil, concerning her book, Flying Couch; Rutu Modan, about her process of working, the interview done in a comic book format; Trina Robbins, sketchily relating her career, enriched with Trina’s “say it as it is” talk; Ilana Zeffren, on “comics, cats, and LGBTQ+ life in Israel”; Emil Ferris, discussing assorted topics (her new Jewish identity, horror film’s impact on social commentary, gender politics, and more), and Nino Biniashvili, mostly about her book, On the Edge of the Black Sea. The interviews vary in comprehensiveness and interest, depending on the skills of the interviewers. Standing out are those of Sandra Chiritescu, with Amy Kurzweil; Andrea Greenbaum, with Emil Ferris, and Oded Na’aman with Nino Biniashvili.

Six essays round out the 20 chapters, treating such subjects as nostalgia, queer identity, motherhood, gender, and domestic boundaries in Jewish comics, and “The Challenges and Opportunities of Scholarly-Artistic Collaboration.” The collection benefits from a thought-provoking introduction, numerous black-and-white and color illustrations, and an appropriate-size bibliography.

One point made in the introduction needs clarification and may be challengeable‒the “whiteness of comics.” The editors mention the whiteness of comics studies at one point and whiteness of comics a couple of sentences later. Concerning the latter, they provide an example of the “perpetuation of anti-Black stereotypes,” by citing a very old example, Eisner’s “Ebony White.” If this stereotype persists, more recent examples should be given. If it has abated, then they should say so. As for comic studies, there has been much improvement in recent years, with books about Black comic art generally and individual artists, and more academic articles with the establishment of more journals, a major one edited by a Black woman. International Journal of Comic Art has carried all manuscripts submitted by or about non-whites. International Journal of Comic Art and, I am sure, other journals welcome such articles; what is needed is the writing and submission of them.

Overall, Jewish Women in Comics… succeeds at what it attempts to accomplish, providing a well-rounded array of comics, interviews, and essays; covering the subject in the United States and abroad; using sufficient sources, and fashioning a very readable and enjoyable account of a segment of comics, religious, and women’s studies.

Book reviews: Angeli: 50 anos de humor & Cartoons do ano 2022

reviewed by John A. Lent

António Antunes. Angeli:  50 anos de humor. Lisbon:  Documenta, 2023. 128 pp. ISBN  978-989-568-091-7.

 

Bárbara Reis, José António Lima, and António Antunes. Cartoons do ano 2022. Lisbon:  Documenta, 2023. 130 pp. ISBN  978-989-568-092-4.

It is not that common that a city commits itself to advancing and honoring the cartooning profession as does Vila Franca de Xira in Portugal. I can think of a few, such as San Antonio del Los Baños in Cuba, the village of St. Just in France, and Kyrenia in Cyprus, the latter depending on who holds the mayor’s position.

One of the features that stands out with Vila Franca de Xira is its publication of catalogues and anthologies that come out regularly on high quality paper, beautifully designed, and with both Portuguese and English language essays and captions. Responsible for curating the Cartoon Xira annual exhibition and supervising resultant publications is local cartoonist António Antunes, with strong support of Fernando Paulo Ferreira, current city mayor, as well as Bárbara Reis and José António Lima.

Two books, each of about 130 pages, were published for the year 2022; one was the annual cartoons of the year, the other a collection of the works of an honored cartoonist. The 2022 annual was broken into themes, namely, “Here Come the Russians!” “Absolute Governance,” “Marcelo-Rebelo’s Way of Acting,” “Cover up the Sun and the Sieve,” “Brazilian Brasil,” “Make America Great Again,” “Is the Horizon Red?” “…And God Saved the Queen,” “In the Name of the Lord,” and “A Window to the World.” They dealt with Putin, Trump, Xi Jinping, Portugal’s election and President Marcelo, the turmoil of air traffic in Portugal, Brazil, China’s effort to control the Covid-19 virus pandemic, the succession of three prime ministers of Britain in 2022, pedophilia and the Catholic Church, women protestors in Iran, greenhouse effect and climate change, salty consumerism, economic depression, and the energy crisis. Each section was introduced by a bi-lingual essay. For the most part, the 100 works were hard-hitting and easy to grasp quickly, the mark of a successful cartoon. A few were not.

Honored in the second volume is Angeli (Arnaldo Angeli Filho), the fourth Brazilian cartoonist so designated; the others being Osmani Simanca (actually born and raised in Cuba) in 2022, Cau Gomez in 2020, and Loredano in 2010. The 67-year-old Angeli is especially known for bringing out Chiclete com banana (Banana Bubblegum) in 1983, one of Brazil’s most important adult comic books. Many of Angeli’s pictured cartoons paint a pessimistic view of the world, concentrating on poverty, violence, injustice, blood baths, homelessness, war, racism, global warming, corruption, slave labor, the wide split between the haves and have-nots, pollution, and death. They are not drawings that elicit a giggle; rather, they provoke thought and perhaps anger and shame.

These catalogues are definitely worth having, studying, and saving as information resources, entertainment, and collectibles.

 

Book review: Edward Sorel's Profusely Illustrated, A Memoir

 reviewed by John A. Lent

Edward Sorel. Profusely Illustrated, A Memoir. New York:  Alfred A. Knopf, 2021. 272 pp. US $30.00. ISBN  978-0-5255-2106-8.

 In this delightful memoir of his life and career, Edward Sorel writes as facilely, matter-of-factly, and scathingly as he draws, whether he is putting down societal scoundrels with doses of venom measured by their “scoundrelness,” berating the formularistic instruction of formal art institutions in favor of naturalness, or telling it as he saw it, not mincing any words, for example, how the “Darth Vader from Australia,” Rupert Murdoch, “stole” New York magazine and The Village Voice.

Befitting a political cartoonist, Sorel was at his best when he skewered government and its honchos. In these pages, he provides a “report card” on all presidents from Franklin D. Roosevelt through Donald J. Trump, none of whom was blemishless, one, Trump, perhaps, meriting an “F”; another, Barack Obama, maybe a “C+.” The grading was not haphazard, off the top of his head, but was based on data not commonly known when the events occurred nor now.

Profusely Illustrated is that, decorated with 177 drawings, cartoons, and caricatures, crafted in Sorel’s trademark style of bright colors, on-the-mark (but exaggerated) likenesses of characters, and hilarious themes, such as Nixon tangoing with Mao under a sickled quarter moon with Kissinger playing an accordion, Condoleezza Rice as Pandora, opening the box and letting out all United States enemies, or Moses as a dog holding the ten commandments before a bunch of fellow dogs, howling, “heel,” “paw,” “stay,” “lie,” “fetch,” and so on. This rich trove of exquisite art, acid commentary, and useful information also included numerous Sorel-conceived New Yorker covers, featuring Whistler’s mother forlornly waiting for her son to call on Mother’s Day, or “Summer School for Bugs” with the teacher cricket showing student beetles and insects the most delicious leaves, or six periods of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s life. And, there are the large composite sketches of “Autumn in New York” or “The Second Sunday in May” and other everyday scenes, with settings of urban neighborhoods where pictured people on the street, in restaurants, apartments, and passing cars are talking to each other on whatever comes to mind. Sorel’s strips, ranging from a couple to as many as nine panels, black and white and wavy in style, usually took on the artist’s meandering thoughts, musings about “what if?” and enjoyable and frightening moments of his life. One eight-panel strip entitled, “How I Lost My Job and Found Happiness,” relates the harrowing experience he had after leaving a gathering with his boss that he felt unwelcomed at, and on his way home, discovering that he had taken the boss’s coat by mistake. Figuring he had lost his job, he then decided to be a freelancer the rest of his life, to keep his own hours, and take naps with his wife, also a freelancer. The final panel shows the couple comfortably snoozing.

Sorel writes with candor and frankness, relating how his Romanian grandmother fled World War I bullets, with her five daughters in tow and bags of sugar for bartering, to settle in Vienna; his dislike (rather, hatred) of his father; his drawing of pictures on laundry cardboard used to keep shirts stiffened while he was bedridden at age seven; his first job at an advertising agency from which he was fired after three weeks, and his first marriage which ended when he found (actually heard) his wife in bed with his friend. He writes endearingly about his second wife, Nancy, who gave him the “happiest” years of his life.

With a knack of writing that makes the reader feel as if he/she and the painter are chatting over a drink, Sorel, at times, is self-deprecating, other times, reflective, trying to figure out his motives for doing things decades before. In this conversational tone, Sorel occasionally goes off track, telling the reader, “hold that thought; I’ll get back to it later,” which he does, or saying, “I think I’ll end there,” and then relating in detail what he should have told.

This is a magnificent read and “viewing,” for anyone who enjoys storytelling at its best, full of chit-chat, bits of gossip, much factual information, personal tidbits, and humongous amounts of satire, put-downs, parody, and humor. Pull up a chair and enjoy.

 

John A. Lent is founding publisher and editor-in-chief of International Journal of Comic Art.