Two of my favorite manga blogs are discussing the idea of literary merit in sequential art. Over at Sporadic Sequential, John Jakala asks which superhero comics and manga have literary merit. Many people contribute their opinions in the comments. David Welsh adds his own thoughts over at Precocious Curmudgeon, focusing specifically on coming-of-age comics.
My first instinct was to chime in with my own opinion. “Oh, these examples of sequential art are really good!” (Most of you know there are few things I love to talk about more than what manga I think are entertaining, well-made, and/or well worth reading.) Then I hesitated. My problem? The concept of literary merit. And now, even though I know that a lot of my readers are bored by arguments over semantics, I’m going to start one anyway. I realize that I’m not the only one to make the following observations about the idea of literary merit, but under the circumstances, they seemed worth repeating.
As I see it, the idea of literary merit is so vaguely understood that it’s likely that the individuals in any group of people using the term are working from several different (and sometimes diametrically opposed) definitions. So a random person saying that a work has literary merit tells me almost nothing, because that person could mean several different things. She could mean that the work has powerful and important themes. She could mean that the prose is lush and evocative, or clean and restrained. She could mean that the work is mimetic fiction published by a prestige imprint of a major New York publisher and shelved in the Fiction & Literature section at Barnes and Noble. She could mean that the work is simply very pleasurable to read. Or she could even mean the work is dull but educational–the literary equivalent of castor oil. (Read it, because it’s good for you!)
So let’s not discuss sequential art using an unhelpful concept from discussions of prose. Instead, let’s stick with specific descriptions and terms that give people useful information about the works in question. Let’s talk about the stories and subjects, the writing and the art, the ideas and the execution. In the end, I do like a lot of the series cited in Jakala’s and Welsh’s posts and comments, and I can see why the posters and commenters wanted to highlight them.
For example, here are some specific reasons why I love a few of my favorite series. Honey and Clover skillfully depicts the passage of time and the maturation of its characters; the wistfulness of the narration breaks my heart. Mushishi tells quiet but dramatic stories, and features mangaka Urushibara’s detailed and inventive art. The various works of Kazuya Minekura can be hilariously irreverent and deadly serious in the span of a few pages; at its best, her art has an almost noir poetry (certain panels in Wild Adapter come to mind), and her use of symbolism and metaphor can be very sophisticated (see the mahjong game in volume 9 of Saiyuki).
Do these works have literary merit? I have no idea. But I do know that I think each of them is worth investigating for the reasons detailed above. They won’t be everybody’s cup of tea, but there’s reason to think they’ll have at least some broad appeal.
What specific things make you love your favorite series?
August 15, 2008 at 8:05 am
Joy –
I get what you’re saying, but at the same time I think it was interesting to leave the question open-ended and see how people interpreted the criteria. Plus, it can spark debate as people begin to question why certain works were nominated. But I do agree that when listing specific picks it’s helpful to explain why you think the work has merit beyond simple entertainment. Not that there’s anything wrong with works that simply aim to entertain, but I was interested in hearing what works traditionally classified as “low-brow” may actually be more high-brow than we’d usually give them credit for.
And thanks for the compliment!