Reviewed by: Comics and the Body: Drawing, Reading, and Vulnerability by Eszter Szép Pamela J. Rader Eszter Szép. Comics and the Body: Drawing, Reading, and Vulnerability. Ohio State UP, 2020. 206 p. Humans dwell in bodies. How they feel about, relate to, and narrate their bodies and the bodies of the Other are not restricted to any one discipline. Drawing, like writing, is an embodied experience. Eszter Szép argues that reading comics is not just a cognitive experience, but "it is also a performance and interaction of bodies," (1) and "the line is a partner of the drawer and body" (77). However, writing, a verbal medium, happens even before the pen (pencil or laptop letters) hit the page; I compose while I walk which creates a state of mind. Barry, one of the writer-drawers studied here, teaches her students to think of "drawing as a way of thinking" (63). Grounding her monograph in an impressive swath of theory and comics scholarship, Szép summarizes the array of sources that inform the study in the introduction and reiterates those sources frequently throughout the chapters. Building on film theory, art history, and trauma studies, Szép focuses on activities of the body crucial to making and reading comics. Her introduction, nearly a third of the volume, draws out the theoretical frameworks and scholarship for her interest in the healing and transformation process in the artist and reader of autobiographical comics. The oft repeated goals established in the first three chapters center on vulnerability as a "central experience expressed by drawing," while chapters four and five focus on reader [End Page 351] engagement and performance in dialogue with one's own vulnerability and/or that of the Other (50). Non-fiction graphic narratives by Lynda Barry, Ken Dahl, Katie Green, Miriam Katin, and Joe Sacco explore self-esteem, trauma, and paths to healing across the authors' and their avatars' experiences with drawing, herpes, anorexia, Caesarean, and war. Szép makes a painstaking case for the specific medium of nonfiction comics as a mediated interaction between three bodies: the drawer, the reader, and the material comic. Representing and re-drawing the body of the authors' avatars is serious business. In Chapter One, readers of Lynda Barry's books like Syllabus and What It Is, will recognize the author's nearsighted monkey and the hair-tie Lynda avatars. Szép's reading of Barry's texts focuses on the active line and the state of mind produced by the drawer while drawing. Ken Dahl's Monsters, in Chapter Two, invites the drawer to illustrate how the Herpes virus transforms not only the avatar Ken's body but self-image as Dahl personifies the ever-changing virus. Without question, this redrawing of the body and its virus destabilizes form and identity. What Elisabeth El Refaie calls "pictorial embodiment" invites the drawer to redraw and reimagine the personality's diverse aspects in discrete modifications of the avatar (83). In the case of Miriam Katin's Letting it Go in Chapter Four, her avatar's vulnerability spans several pages of an involuntary defecation and clean-up. These texts, for Szép, affirm that "[d]rawing is interpretation; it is a way to organize reality" (39). The drawer-writer's perspective is an interpretation of the events experienced. Comics transform the metaphor into an embodied reality to foster dialogue about vulnerability. While bodies are indeed the subject of Szép's chosen graphic memoirs, the style of lines are a technique for "[expressing] engagement and compassion with the pain and vulnerability of others" (109). In Chapter Three, Szép zeroes in on Joe Sacco's Bosnian war reportage and his haptic use of crosshatched backgrounds and textures. She makes a compelling case for how Sacco's "compulsive" crosshatching (121) allows the author-drawer to dwell with the drawn stories and their avatars. This dwelling opens a temporal space wherein Sacco sits with and engages with his subjects, showing a form of bodily engagement. However, in Chapter Five, the use of scribbling in Katie Green's memoir Lighter Than My Shadow performs a different function; according to Szép, this particular style permits one "to visualize...
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