While wandering around the Shenandoah offices today in search of inspiration, I stumbled across the Spring 2008 issue of the Virginia Quarterly Review. The issue is superhero themed, complete with a cover art styled like a classic comic book panel. As I was perusing the cover, I began to wonder: can a comic book be counted as literature?
The more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to think comics can be counted as literature. According to the Oxford dictionary on my Macbook, a book is defined as “a written or printed work consisting of pages glued or sewn together along one side and bound in covers.” A comic fits that basic definition, a graphic novel fits even better. In fact, there is a great deal of similarity between children’s literature and comics; both are books with lots of pictures and a varying but relatively small number of words per page. Both use illustrations and words to drive plot progression. And yet we don’t seem to consider Goodnight Moon and Superman to be equal. Many of the plots found in comic books or graphic novels are more complex and engaging than anything in Dr. Seuss. Yet still, we hold only one up as literature. The two genres even share a target demographic to an extent. My father and I share a love for Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas. His childhood sandbox chatter was about how many times the Justice League saved the day, mine was about Corduroy and Blueberries for Sal. With so many similarities between the two, I see this upholding of one over the other as unfair. My father’s favorites have far more going on in terms of plot and character, but my favorites get called “literature.” Superheroes and comics taught my father about patriotism, morality, and cultural values, something the Very Hungry Caterpillar didn’t give to me. Superman taught my dad to fight for what’s right, I got to find out what a gluttonous insect does. Even if we can’t accept comics as better than children’s literature, they should be given some type of consideration for having content.
The serialized format of comics is also typical of Regency and Victorian literary publishing practices. Readers of the mid to late 19th century and early 20th century were used to reading a small section of a larger story each month. Authors like Dickens had their stories reach the audience in installments, not the “all in one” format we are used to today. Comic books, then, are published in a longstanding literary format. I am not proposing that publishing format is justification for literary standing, but it is good to consider that publishing a story in pieces wasn’t a new idea by any means when comics began appearing.
I’m not positing placing comic books in the pantheon of great literature. I don’t believe in placing the Justice League in the same category of literary heroes as Faulkner’s Ike McCaslin or Joyce’s Leopold Bloom. Then again, shouldn’t Superman be given at least a shred or consideration in the face of “heroes” like Dan Brown’s Robert Langdon? If Dan Brown can publish a massively inaccurate novel and be hailed as a celebrated author, why can’t a comic book be given some literary merit?