Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art

“The father of the modern comic in many ways is Rudolphe Töpffer, whose light satiric picture stories, starting in the mid-1800s, employed cartooning and panel borders, and featured the first interdependent combination of words and pictures seen in Europe. Unfortunately, Töpffer himself failed to grasp at first the full potential of his invention, seeing it as a mere diversion, a simple hobby [...] Even so, Töpffer’s contribution to the understanding of comics is considerable, if only for his realization that he who as neither artist nor writer—had created and mastered a form which was at once both and neither.”

McCloud frequently discusses and quotes Töpffer, whom he regards as a visionary. Töpffer’s particular advancement was the combination of words and definite borders to sequential art panels. Despite this groundbreaking development and Töpffer’s recognition that comics were capable of more than most readers realized, McCloud argues that he did not truly grasp this potential.

“For the purposes of this chapter, I’m using the word ‘icon’ to mean any image used to represent a person, place, thing or idea. [...] The sort of images we usually call symbols are one category of icon, however. These are the images we use to represent concepts, ideas and philosophies. Then there are the icons of language, science and communication. Icons of the practical realm. And finally, the icons we call pictures: images designed to actually resemble their subjects. But resemblance varies, so does the level of iconic content. Or to put it somewhat clumsily, some pictures are just more iconic than others.”

This quote is an excellent example of a couple of representative literary devices used by McCloud throughout the text. First of all, there are three categories of icons: symbolic notation (including words), scientific or communication icons, and pictures. Secondly, when he talks about the degree of content an icon possesses, he engages in a humorous play on words, using the word “iconic” to relate to what readers might call memes.

“I believe this is the primary cause of our childhood fascination with cartoons. Though other factors such as universal identification, simplicity and the childlike features of many cartoon characters also play a part. The cartoon is a vacuum into which our identity and awareness are pulled [...] an empty shell that we inhabit which enables us to travel in another realm. We don’t just observe the cartoon, we become it! That’s why I decided to draw myself in such a simple style.”

In his discussion of representational art versus the simplicity of comic drawings, McCloud holds that the simpler the art, the more universal its appeal. The less realistic a drawing is, the more viewers can identify with it and receive the artist’s message.

“Our identities belong permanently to the conceptual world. They can’t be seen, heard, smelled, touched or tasted. They’re merely ideas. And everything else—at the start—belongs to the sensual world, the world outside of us. Gradually we reach beyond ourselves. We encounter the sight, smell, touch, taste and sound of our own bodies. And the world around us. And soon we discover that objects of the physical world can also cross over—and possess identities of their own. Or, as our extensions—begin to glow—with the life—we lend them. By de-emphasizing the appearance of the physical world in favor of the idea of form, the cartoon places itself in the world of concepts. Through traditional realism, the comics artist can portray the world without—and through the cartoon, the world within. When cartoons are used throughout a story, the world of the story may seem to pulse with life. [...] If an artist wants to portray the beauty and complexity of the physical world—realism of some sort is going to play a part.”

McCloud differentiates between the sensual (or perceived) world and the conceptual world. He argues that, from people’s first awareness, they conceive rather than sense who they are—and this process continues throughout life. Comics are universal because their simplicity connects readers back to their earliest conceptual framework. While representations of the physical world are used as reference points, readers resonate the most with simplistic cartoons.

“Pictures are received information. We need no formal education to “get the message.” The message is instantaneous. Writing is perceived information. It takes time and specialized knowledge to decode the abstract symbols of language. When pictures are more abstracted from “reality,” they require greater levels of perception. More like words. When words are bolder, more direct, they require lower levels of perception and are received faster, more like pictures. Our need for a unified language of comics sends us toward the center where words and pictures are like two sides of one coin! But our need for sophistication in comics seems to lead us outward, where words and pictures are most separate.”

Part of the reason McCloud believes comics is an underappreciated medium with unrealized potential is because it is virtually alone—along with children’s picture books—in combining words and drawn pictures. He describes these two forms of media as having unlimited potential for “perceived” and “received” communication when combined. Thus, a comics creator can shift either medium for the sake of their message.

“Comics panels fracture both time and space, offering a jagged, staccato rhythm of unconnected moments. But closure allows us to connect these moments and mentally construct a continuous, unified reality. If visual iconography is the vocabulary of comics, closure is its grammar. And since our definition of comics hinges on the arrangement of element—then in a very real sense, comics is closure.”

McCloud is famous for defining the meaning and method of closure in comics. Closure is the manner in which the reader’s mind “fills in the blanks” between one panel and the next. McCloud says that this makes the reader a co-creator, a participant, of the comic. With the mind’s ability to assume a comic’s narrative trajectory, the comic is able to move through time and space from one panel to the next.

“The idea that elements omitted from a work of art are as much a part of that work as those included has been a specialty of the East for centuries. In the graphic arts this has meant a greater focus on figure/ground relationships and ‘negative space.’ In music too, while the Western classical tradition was emphasizing the continuous, connected worlds of harmony and melody, Eastern classical music was equally concerned with the role of silence! In the last century or two, as Western cultural influences swept the East, so too have Eastern and African ideas of fragmentation and rhythm swept the West. From Debussy to Stravinsky to Count Basie, Western music has gradually incorporated a strong awareness of the power of fragmentation and intervals.”

Negative space is typically a concept associated with visual art. Here, McCloud expresses it as a cultural concept that impacts every form of media. Throughout the book, he champions Eastern concepts of media, which developed in cultural isolation from Western media. As the two worlds interact with each other, each informs the artistic sensibilities of the other. Negative space is a natural component of Eastern art and comic art, which tends to minimize the depiction of realistic settings. McCloud returns to this minimalistic topic in Chapter 8’s discussion of color in comics.

“When the content of a silent panel offers no clues as to its duration, it can also produce a sense of timelessness. Because of its unresolved nature, such a panel may linger in the reader’s mind. And its presence may be felt in the panels which follow it. When ‘bleeds’ are used—i.e., when a panel runs off the edge of the page—its effect is compounded. Time is no longer contained by the familiar icon of the closed panel, but instead hemorrhages and escapes into timeless space. [...] this is a technique used most often in Japan and only recently adopted here in the West.”

McCloud notes the various methods used to depict the passage of time or their lack of. He returns to Japanese artists whom, he says, are masters at conveying the slowing of time. He illustrates this principle with a drawing of a courtyard in the rain, one that uses “bleed”—the extension of an image beyond its usual borders to the edges of the page—to accentuate the weather itself.

“In the last quarter of the nineteenth century it seemed like everyone was trying to capture motion through science. [...] As the motion picture began its spectacular rise, a few of the more radical painters of the day explored the idea that motion could be depicted by a single image on canvas. The futurists in Italy and Marcel Duchamp in France began the systematic decomposition of moving images in a static medium. [...] Duchamp soon moved on, the futurists disbanded and fine artists generally lost interest in this other type of “moving picture.” But throughout this same period another medium, less conspicuously, had been investigating this same area.”

While fine art painters were unable to portray motion on canvas, comics artists achieved various techniques for doing so. The drive to convey motion was linked to the development of motion pictures. McCloud demonstrates several artistic techniques that produce the representation of movement, including the now common motion line.

“The idea that a picture can evoke an emotional or sensual response in the viewer is vital to the art of comics. [...] The invisible world of senses and emotions can also be portrayed either between or within panels.”

Universally perceived as simplistic drawings, comics are incredibly versatile in depicting and creating emotional reactions in readers. McCloud notes that the negative space of the “gutter”—the white space between panels—can be used to achieve an emotional response in readers as well.

“[I]f pictures can, through their rendering represent invisible concerns such as emotions and the other senses—then the distinction between pictures and other types of icons like languages which specialize in the invisible may seem a bit blurry. In fact, what we’re seeing in the living line of these pictures is the primordial stuff from which a formalized language can evolve!”

McCloud has two points to make. First of all, he returns to the notion that simple drawings become commonly used icons—with the oldest being ones that evolved over time to become specific symbols and then words to represent sounds. An example of this is the letter “A,” which developed over millennia from an upside-down image of an ox’s head. Secondly, he discusses how the recent use of symbolic lines in comics became universally understood. For example, if wavy lines are drawn above a cartoon fire, viewers understand that this signifies heat rising. In this way, the simplistic lexicon of comics continues to open new doors of communication and meaning.

“Backgrounds can be another valuable tool for indicating invisible ideas…particularly the world of emotions. Even when there is little or no distortion of the characters in a given scene, a distorted or expressionistic background will usually affect our ‘reading’ of the characters’ inner states. Certain patterns can produce an almost physiological effect in the viewer. But for some reason, readers will ascribe those feelings, not to themselves, but to the characters they identify with.”

In addressing comics’ ability to reflect “invisible” realities like emotions, McCloud describes backgrounds: the scenes behind the main subject of a panel. Even without distorting the image of a character in any significant manner, a comics artist can illustrate the character’s emotions through background images. McCloud is being ironic in saying that readers ascribe feelings to characters rather than themselves since he already posited that comics cause readers to see themselves in said stories. Thus, readers experience the emotions they themselves ascribe to characters.

“Traditional thinking has long held that truly great works of art and literature are only possible when the two are kept at arm’s length. Words and pictures together are considered, at best, a diversion for the masses, at worst a product of crass commercialism. As children, our first books had pictures galore and very few words because that was ‘easier.’ Then, as we grew, we were expected to graduate to books with much more text and only occasional pictures—and finally to arrive at ‘real’ books—those with no pictures at all. Or perhaps, as is sadly the case these days, to no books at all. Meanwhile, words and moving pictures have half the world in thrall to their charms, but must struggle to make their potential understood. Words and pictures are as popular as ever, but this widespread feeling that the combination is somehow base or simplistic has become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Comics is considered a childish medium, something that “serious” readers should cast aside as a relic of childhood. At the same time, “words and moving pictures” emerged as the dominant form of media. McCloud is intentionally vague as to whether or not “words and moving pictures” refer to comics, television shows, movies, etc. Earlier in the book, he describes comics as the sole form of static art that could show motion. He is likely implying that other forms of visual media belie the notion that visual art combined with words is low brow. In other words, while comics as an art form has a place among other media, it has yet to be truly acknowledged.

“The written word was becoming more specialized, more abstract, more elaborate—and less and less like pictures. Pictures, meanwhile, began to grow in the opposite direction: less abstract or symbolic, more representational and specific. By the early 1800s, western art and writing had drifted about as far apart as was possible. One was obsessed with resemblance, light and color, all things visible...the other rich in invisible treasures, sense, emotions, spirituality, philosophy [...] Pictures and words, once together in the center of our iconic abstraction chart, have at this point drifted to opposite corners.”

Here, McCloud voices an intriguing historical and cultural argument. He makes an implicit reference to Chapter 2’s “picture plane” which posits realism at one extreme and abstraction at another. He argues that around Töpffer’s invention of the modern comic, language was becoming totally abstract and Western art, interested in photographic realism. McCloud goes on to say that current written languages and today’s diversity of art styles are creative reactions against the extremes of the early 1800s.

“[T]he fact that the modern comic was born just as art and writing were preparing to change direction is at least intriguing. And perhaps this common threat of unification did grow out of a shared instinct of the day...an instinct which said that we had reached the end of a long journey and that it was time at last to head for home.”

This quote further reflects on the notion that art and language simultaneously reacted against the extremes of realism and abstraction—and began to move back toward each other in creative ways. McCloud implies that comics is a natural outgrowth of this movement. Perhaps the most intriguing element of this theory is its spontaneity. McCloud says that even Töpffer did not grasp the significance of combining art and words as it was almost a form of divine intervention.

“Unfortunately for comics, no sooner had the fine arts rediscovered the link between words and pictures—than modern art itself became virtually incomprehensible to the average viewer! [...] In fact, the general public’s perceptions of ‘great’ art and ‘great’ writing hasn’t changed much in 150 years. Any artist wishing to do great work in a medium using words and pictures will have to contend with this attitude. [...] The art form of comics is many centuries old, but it’s perceived as a recent invention and suffers the curse of all new media. The curse of being judged by the standards of the old.”

McCloud scoffs at prevailing notions of fine art and fine literature as the general public and art-related voices alike do not recognize the newest advances in these media. He also asserts that comics creators are sometimes their own worst enemies because they buy into public opinion that comics are childish and as a result, do not attempt to use the medium to make profound work.

“The mixing of words and pictures is more alchemy than science. Some of the secrets of those first alchemists may have been lost in the ancient past. But we have some powerful magic right here in the 20th Century, too! The richness of modern language is an irreplaceable commodity!”

McCloud compares the literary and artistic playing fields of today to those of 5,000 years ago when Egyptian and Mayan creators first developed sequential art—the forerunner of today’s comics. Essentially, the modern comics artist is at an artistic evolutionary turning point not unlike those first days. This idea sets the stage for the final chapter’s proposal for new comics creators with new visions.

“[T]here are properties that comics share with all other art forms. Though it seems innocuous enough now, there was a time when such a simple idea was ridiculed. Even today, there are those who ask the question ‘Can comics be art?’ It is—I’m sorry—a really stupid question! But if we must answer it, the answer is yes. [...] Art, as I see it, is any human activity which doesn’t grow out of either of our species’ two basic instincts: survival and reproduction!”

From McCloud’s perspective, art—including drawing and writing—is the one human pursuit that does not emerge from basic human instincts. Thus, art is the one element of human existence that sets people apart from other living things. In other words, the bar for what qualifies as art is low but at the same time quite distinct from all that is not art.

“The ‘fine artist’—the pure artist—says to the world: ‘I didn’t do this for the money! [...] I didn’t do this for fame or power or greed or anything else! I did this for art!’ In other words: ‘My art has no practical value whatsoever! But it’s important!’ [...] ‘Pure art’ is essentially tied to the question of purpose—of deciding what you want out of art.”

McCloud views art as self-perpetuating. While he acknowledges that other factors might come into play for an artist, such as the pursuit of fame or wealth, he believes that the love of creating and the need to listen to one’s muse are the driving forces behind pure art—such being true for artists across genres.

“In comics, the cycle begins all over the world, as young readers discover comics for the first time and in a few cases, begin to develop a love for comics that will last a lifetime! In this early stage, these readers are experiencing the characters, ideas, events and emotions of the story directly. Comics is acting as an intermediary between storyteller and audience. But in some, an awareness of the form begins to develop, an awareness that all comics are just ink on paper—that making them only requires certain skills—and that those skills can be learned!”

McCloud turns his attention to the would-be artist and creates a narrative about emerging artists, each of whom acquires a different level of skill and understanding. Ultimately, the truest comics creator is the one who grasps and masters all six stages of the artistic creative process, which he refers to as the creative path of pure art.

“[T]he more a creator learns to command every aspect of his/her art and to understand his/her relationship to it, the ‘artistic’ concerns are likely to get the upper hand. The order of the six steps is innate, like the arrangement of bones in a dinosaur’s skeleton. They can be discovered in any order, but when brought together, they will always fall into place!”

Here, McCloud concludes his essay on the six-step path that leads to the creation of pure art. He posits that every knowledgeable creator will either focus on the first step—the idea or purpose they are driven to express through a particular genre—or the second step—expanding the genre itself in new ways. Readers might argue that McCloud accomplishes both steps in Understanding Comics.

“To counteract the dulling effects of newsprint and to stand out from the competition, costumed heroes were clad in bright, primary colors and found in a bright primary world! The colors were picked for strength and contrasted strongly with another, but on most pages no one color dominated. Without the emotional impact of single-color saturation, the expressive potential of American color comics—was often cancelled [sic] out to an emotional grey. [...] However, while comics colors were less than expressionistic, they were fixed with a new iconic power. Because costume colors remained exactly the same, panel after panel, they came to symbolize characters in the mind of the reader.”

McCloud gives a brief history of the use of color in mass media comics. To a great extent, this history mirrors common prejudices against comics: low quality ink was utilized in the least expensive manner possible. To counteract this, creators found ways to best utilize the colors available. In the process, they created the iconic comic heroes and villains of today, all cast in bright primary colors with little shading. Experimentation with color, shading, hues, and realistic representations continue to this day.

“So, why is this medium we call comics so important? Why should we try so hard to understand comics? I think the answer lies deep within the human condition...We all live in a state of profound isolation. No other human being can ever know what it’s like to be you from the inside. And no amount of reaching out to others can ever make them feel exactly what you feel. All media of communication are a by-product of our sad inability to communicate directly from mind to mind. Sad, of course, because nearly all problems in human history stem from that inability. Each medium (the term comes from the Latin word meaning middle) serves as a bridge between minds. Media convert thoughts into forms that can traverse the physical world and be re-converted by one or more senses back into thoughts. In comics the conversion follows a path from mind to hand to paper to eye to mind.”

McCloud shares a compelling story about the very nature of media as an attempt on the part of creators to reach out to other human beings and share their inner experiences. He believes comics have an advantage in this regard because they are cartoonishly drawn, meaning they are more appealing to more people. The universality of the comic goes both ways, in that creating comics is a possibility available to anyone who has ideas they wish to share—and most if not all people have ideas they want to share.