I was talking to an English graduate the other day. She prides herself on her discerning literary taste. She asked me what I was reading.
“Comics, mostly.”
A disapproving frown. “Are you serious?”
“I’m very serious. I spend a lot of money every month on comics.”
“Do you collect them?”
“No, I read them.”
Her eyebrows were knitted in concern. “What kind of comics?”
“My favourite is Conan the Barbarian.”
“What? Is he like an alter ego? Big, brawny… Is that how you wish you were?”
“It’s because it’s based very closely on the original stories. The adaptations are very good and the art work is superb.”
I often come across this prejudice about Conan and comics. Before I’d read any Conan stories I’d heard that Robert E. Howard had a cult following. ‘Cult’ usually means not very big. But many of his stories are still in print and very easy to find. That suggests there is still a widespread demand for them, which isn’t bad considering that they were written for disposable pulp magazines 80 years ago. Maybe ‘huge’ is a better word than ‘cult.’
I started to defend the Conan stories as examples of vigorous, thrilling prose and startling imagery. But I could see the literature graduate was unimpressed. Her eyes became hot and rebellious. Her cheeks flushed. Her brows remained steadfastly knitted.
When I learned, years ago, that there were weird literary cliques who curated museums and academies dedicated to the life and works of Robert E. Howard and brought out editions of his letters, I never imagined I would ever find myself being grateful to them. Surely, if a writer is any good, he should be read, not hoarded in a museum.
But Dark Horse publish extracts from Howard’s letters in the Conan comics and they’re always fascinating to read. I can’t help being driven to learn more about the man who produced these passionate stories.
But I bit my tongue. Some people will never be convinced. I’d rather read than proselytise.
“And what about you?” I asked her to change the subject. “What have you been reading?”
“Oh, I haven’t picked up a book in fifteen years,” she said.
“I’d rather read than proselytise.” Should be made into a bumper sticker or t-shirt.
Yes, except that it might be a kind of proselytising paradox. Nice to have your thoughts on it, though. Thanks.
Haha! I so recognize myself in this situation, trying to defend comics like Lanfeust of Troy. Now, I often don’t mention it’s a comic, and people think it’s an old book from medieval times…
Wow! Lanfeust of Troy looks interesting. I had never heard of it. I will try to get hold of some copies.
My son loves and relates more easily to “graphic novels” as comics are commonly now called. I grew up trolling the comic books at my dad’s small town drugstore. I am so happy that this literary and graphic expression is available for those who have trouble with straight reading. Peace.
Actually reading comics can be a challenge for the super-literate like me. It’s easier to read concentrated text.
While, personally, my comics experience extends only to “The Flaming Carrot” I have a deep appreciation for the artistry and hard work that goes into creating them. Many of my friends have rather large collections and I’ve learned a lot through osmosis. And, I’m a big proponent of, “If they’re reading, let them!” The medium doesn’t matter to me.
The biggest problem with comics is finding a reliable supplier.