One of a Kind, Trina Robbins, 1938-2024
The
first time I met Trina was in the 1990s, at a comics event of some sort, if I
recall. It was then that I first experienced her feisty nature. She had just
lambasted male cartoonists who portray women violently in their drawings; she,
no doubt, blasted R. Crumb as one of the worst offenders. No argument from me
so far; I agreed with what she said. But, when she excluded women cartoonists
from mistreating men in their works, I countered that the castration of men
seemed just a bit cruel, and I had seen a few such depictions by at least one
woman artist. I don’t believe that rejoinder stopped her tirade, but I
certainly admired her combativeness.
Trina
and I became friends not too long after that and worked together on a few
projects. When I started the International Journal of Comic Art, she
readily accepted my invitation to join the advisory board. And, she contributed
her “herstorian” writings to the journal on five occasions (mainly in the
2000s), always meeting deadlines with well-researched and interestingly-written
articles. Trina congratulated IJOCA as it progressed over the years,
once saying facetiously, “it’s never heavy enough!” She was happy to be
published in IJOCA, and said so occasionally, even asking if it was all
right for her to write up certain events she attended.
In
a 2007 email, she wrote, “I am thrilled to write something for IJOCA….
The May 2008 deadline, like the baby bear’s porridge, is ju-u-u-ust right!
Thank you for inviting me.” Ten years later, Trina wrote, “John, as the one
contributor to IJOCA who is a college dropout, I love being part of the
journal,” and I replied that I wished many of my university, senior-level,
communications majors could write as well.
Fig. 1. John A.
Lent introducing Trina Robbins.
Asian Popular
Culture section, Popular Culture Association.
San Francisco, CA.
2008. Photo by Xu Ying.
Trina
was eager to be in touch with academia. When she found out that the Popular Culture
Association was holding its 2007 annual conference in San Francisco, she joined
the association to be able to present a paper on a Chinese-American dance
troupe with which she was in contact. After checking the PCA website, and
finding that I headed the Asian Popular Culture section, Trina wrote, “and to
my surprise, you are the person to whom I wish to submit a proposal.”
Fig. 2. Trina
Robbins presenting her paper.
Asian Popular
Culture section, Popular Culture Association.
San Francisco, CA.
2008. Photo by Xu Ying.
Out
of that exchange, grew a few other projects. Together, we were able to secure a
special space on the PCA schedule, featuring Trina’s presentation, followed by
several dances by the Grant Avenue Follies. These dancers performed in Chinese
nightclubs in the late 1950s and 1960s, and in their later years, danced free of
charge in hospitals, senior centers, and veteran groups. Trina described them,
“they have talent, style, and great legs, and they are proof that you’re never
too old to rock them in the aisles.” Trina’s PowerPoint talk and the dances
went over well and were somewhat precedent-setting in PCA’s long history.
Fig. 3. Trina
Robbins and some Grant Avenue Follies’ dancers with manager.
Asian Popular
Culture section, Popular Culture Association.
San Francisco, CA.
2008. Photo by Xu Ying.
Knowing
Trina was writing a book on the Grant Avenue Follies, I invited her to submit a
proposal to have it published in a book series I edited for Hampton Press,
which she did. The proposal was accepted, sparking Trina to write, “I’m
thrilled to be working with you…. Happy and excited, Trina,” and “Thank you so
much for believing in this book…. Happy as a clam. Trina.” She threw in a bit
of humor when she related that the guys at the copy center read the proposal
and “were entranced, and told me they’d buy the book if it came out. (That’s 5
sales!)” Trina was satisfied with the illustration-filled, nicely-designed Forbidden
City. The Golden Age of Chinese Nightclubs when it appeared in 2010, and
was eager to have the book promoted and sold. I had warned her earlier that
Hampton usually needed a shove to get it moving, which she discovered on her
own, saying, at one point, that it seemed that the press had no interest in
selling its books, and, later, that she did not want to deal with Hampton ever
again.
Fig. 4. Trina
Robbins and Steve Leialoha.
Jilin Animation Festival.
Changchun, China. 2011.
Photo by John A.
Lent.
I
met Trina a few times during the following decade, twice in Changchun, China,
where we both were invited to speak at the International Animation, Comics and
Games Forum Jilin, China 2009. Trina said she loved China and always wanted to
return; however, I believe she enjoyed more the experiences of different
cultures, accepting invitations when they were received‒to Brazil, Russia,
Japan, etc. Her eagerness to travel was borne out when I saw her in China in
2011; it was obvious she was recovering from cancer, which she acknowledged in
an e-mail: “Since I was almost bald as a
cueball in China, it was pretty obvious that I was getting over something! (I
wasn’t gonna turn down an invitation to China because of a little thing like
having no hair.”) Trina was very curious, at the same time, a bit suspicious,
while abroad. During one of our meetings in China, she complained that the
student translator/guide assigned to her never left her side and she was not
free to do what she wanted to do. I asked her what she wanted to do. “Go to
Walmart,” Trina replied. Not one excited about anything to do with Walmart, I
shot back, “Why in the hell would you come all the way to China to go to
Walmart?” I told her to ask the guide to take her, which she did, and Trina was
satisfied. However, she later asked if I was angry with her for making that
request; I wasn’t; I just thought it was strange. I was also humbled that she
cared about what I thought.
To
call Trina “a character” is a major understatement. Who else do you know who
crammed into 85 years a few lifetimes of precedent-setting achievements in
underground comix, women’s comic books, and what she termed comics “herstory”?
Who shut herself in a room with a sewing machine, learned how to make clothes,
and decked out the likes of popular musicians Mama Cass, David Crosby, and
Donovan? Who partied (heartily) with Jim Morrison, the rest of The Doors, and
The Byrds? Who was the first woman to produce a “Wonder Woman” mini-series? The
variety of Trina’s activities was wide, from supporting Pro Choice and Strip
AIDS USA through her drawings to producing a woman’s erotic comics anthology
for Denis Kitchen. She was known and admired worldwide; in life, being the
subject of popular singer Joni Mitchell’s song, “Ladies of the Canyon,” and,
after her death, on April 17, the subject of many reminiscing and laudatory
articles, websites, blogs, and even a cartoon on the Daily Kos news and opinion
site.
Fig. 5. Daily Kos cartoon
posted by Keith Knight recalling
Trina’s insistence that work cannot
be wordy.
There
were many characteristics about Trina Robbins that I find extremely admirable.
She was frank and honest, attested to in her memoirs, Last Girl Standing,
where she did not shy from revealing her sexual activities, her getting a
sexually-transmitted disease from a husband, or other experiences that a large
part of society would consider repugnant. Trina did not beat around the bush;
if something or someone offended her, she vociferously said so.
Trina
recognized her shortcomings; one that she mentioned was her lack of a thorough
knowledge of the use of a computer, once writing me that she was “so
embarrassed to be so technologically inept”; a woman of my own heart since I
have been labeled “technologically challenged.” She was adept at researching,
evidenced by her “herstories,” and had the makings of an excellent journalist,
with her investigative skills, concise writing, ability to meet deadlines, and
keen editing.
Her
cheerful disposition, reflected in her personality and creative work, was
infectious; she accepted compliments gracefully and gave them freely. I always
enjoyed her e-mail signoffs: “Tired by
happy,” “Happy and excited,” “Sigh!,” “Whew!,” “Recovering from Turkey” (after
Thanksgiving), and “Thanks so much, you too are a trooper, Trina.”
The
fields of comics creativity, fandom, and scholarship have lost one of a kind in
Trina Robbins. I will miss her!
A version of this post will appear in IJOCA 26:1.
John
A. Lent is the founder, publisher, and
editor-in-chief of the International Journal of Comic Art and professor
emeritus of communications, having taught in universities in Canada, China,
Malaysia, Philippines, and the U.S., from 1960-2011.