Gender and Graphic Novels

Gender and Graphic Novels

In class the other day, we were asked the question of why modern college-age young women are so interested in reading Watchmen when it seems to be written for an audience of teenage boys from the 1980’s. Our group came up with one possible explanation: that since the novel is written from such a self-reflective, thoughtful point of view, and essentially criticizes the very genre in which it is written, women (who stereotypically think in a similarly complex and analytical way) can relate with it, and are not put off by the “adolescent male fantasy” aspect because the novel is so critical and aware of that fantasy. I have been thinking about Watchmen, which we seem to have defined as a masculine graphic novel, alongside a memoir in the form of a graphic novel called Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, and trying to unpack some of the similarities and differences between them. Graphic novels are, to me, a form of storytelling technology, in the way that they create a particular way of understanding stories through the interplay of text and images. I am trying to think about whether it is the content of the story itself that makes the difference between which graphic novels are considered “feminine” or “masculine,” or whether this distinction has more to do with the tone and mode of narration and how the artwork relates to all of this.

Watchmen is centered around a group of male superhero characters, with a few token female characters. The women portrayed in the novel embody many of the stereotypes and issues associated with women, such as a greater connection and understanding of human emotion, as well as an aversion and lack of ability for masculine roles and technologies. Laurie is the only hero who resists the lifestyle that she has taken on, and she is also notably the one who presses the flame-thrower button thinking it is a cigarette lighter. Her hero costume is a short yellow dress which succeeds in showing off her legs and breasts rather than providing her with protection from villains. Laurie does not seem to exist as an example of a strong female character; she seems to exist as the woman who plays different roles in the lives of the male characters (to have sex with Jon, provide comfort and a love interest/sidekick for Dan, etc.). While many of the larger questions posed by Watchmen  are undoubtedly relevant to readers regardless of gender, there are very few female characters that are actually in an empowered role, and it seems as though this would be a factor that would turn women off of reading the novel. This observation leads me to wonder whether there is something about the way the story is told that draws in female readers as well as male readers.

Watchmen is told from numerous different points of view and through different modes of narration. In the sections focusing on Rorshach, the reader is able to see pieces of Rorshach’s journal, placed alongside drawings depicting his actions and what he sees. These are the parts of the novel that I, personally, found most interesting and engaging. Most other parts of the graphic novel are told through dialogue and action, aside from the occasional pieces of other documents that contribute to the story (excerpts from Hollis Mason’s autobiography, psychological reports, and news articles, for example). I found several points of the novel to be boring, such as the long chapter in which Dr. Manhattan narrates the story of his life. The thoughtful and self-reflective aspect of Watchmen are clearest to me in the pieces of Rorshach’s journal, and in the work required of the reader to synthesize all of the different excerpts with the comic portion of the novel. Most of the drawings are very detailed and full of color and play an integral part in forming the characters of the superheroes and in moving the story along. Images such as the dog’s split skull in Rorshach’s memory elicit an almost visceral reaction from the reader, as do the images of all the dead people in New York toward the end of the novel. In reading through the novel, it is virtually impossible to skim the story or to ignore the images. This set-up encourages, and even requires, the reader to slow down and think a little more about what is happening rather than just reading for the plot line.

The plot line is based around these superheroes who feel a sense of nostalgia toward their past, and shows the ways in which their identities as superheroes have shaped who they are. It is this human aspect, this focus on human psychology, that draws me, personally, into the story. While my experience reading Watchmen was a bit of a mixed bag (I admittedly skipped over a few parts of it that seemed to drag on and on), I found that reading Fun Home was far more engaging. I think that the content of the story was a big part of why I enjoyed it so much; I could identify with the narrator’s life growing up with an unusual family, attending a liberal arts college, and trying to negotiate her family’s issues while trying to figure out her own identity as an independent adult and a queer woman.

Unlike Watchmen, which is told mainly through images and dialogue, Fun Home is largely told through first-person narration. As I read Fun Home, the pattern I noticed is that the narration comes first, and is then followed by images that illustrate that narration, foregrounding the story rather than the images. I would compare this mode of narration to the sections of Watchmen in which excerpts from Rorshach’s journal relate his own thoughts and provide background for the images. The art in Fun Home  is less flashy, but it seems to serve the story itself quite well. The story is told from a mature and sophisticated point of view, and contains numerous literary and mythological allusions that appeal to an older audience. The art is more realistic (though not perfectly lifelike) in the way it portrays people, precisely because the story is about a real person’s life – not a fantasy world.

The focus in Fun Home is on the relationships between the narrator and the other characters in the book, as well as on the narrator’s view and understanding of herself and her own situation. Unlike the subtle self-reflection that underlies the story of Watchmen, the narration in Fun Home is openly reflective and thoughtful, engaging the reader even more fully in the narrator’s thought process throughout. The plot of the story is not entirely chronological, and switches back and forth between Alison’s childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, which more accurately reflects her internal way of understanding the relation between elements of her life, and portrays her story in a way that is as complex as the story itself. If we are going with the hypothesis that women are interested in graphic novels that are told in a way similar to how they think, I suppose that my experience supports that idea; however, I am not sure I’m convinced yet.

On one level, I am more engaged when reading Fun Home because the issues are more pertinent to me on a personal level, but I think my interest also has something to do with the way the story is told. What I am unsure about is whether I can attribute my own opinion to my gender identity, or to the gender identities of the authors, rather than just the ways in which my individual preferences and experiences intersect with the ideas in these two graphic novels (note: after I wrote that sentence, I realized it made no sense since being female has undoubtedly shaped my preferences and experiences… I just don’t know exactly how!). I think it would be interesting to hear more from men/boys about what they think and like about Watchmen. I disagree with the generalization that it mirrors “how women think,” because I do not believe that all women (or all of anyone belonging to a particular group) think the same way, but I do wonder whether the differences in narration were at all intentional because of the target audiences, or whether it is a result of the genders of the authors themselves.