Alison Bechdel at Laydeez Do Comics
Monday 12 November 2012
Monday 12 November 2012
My name is Eve Lacey, this month’s guest blogger and I am a writer. You can
read my feature on LDC for For Books’ Sake here and see my own blog here.
This month, Laydeez Do Comics welcomed Alison Bechdel to the Gallery at Foyles on Charing Cross Road, whose
scaffold was doodled with black, white and red – a fitting backdrop for the
sanguine shades of Bechdel’s most recent publication, Are
You My Mother? The meeting
began with an introduction to upcoming Comica events, an invite to the Queer
Zine Fest London, and a call for British comic artists to read and
contribute to The Strumpet, a new transatlantic periodical edited by Ellen
Lindner.
Bechdel’s presentation, Q&A and signing were then
followed by Charissa King-O'Brien’s short film The Paper Mirror, an
artistic collaboration between Bechdel and queer/crip artist Riva Lehrer in
which the graphic novelist sat for her own portrait and provided a sketch of
her mother for Riva to lay over Bechdel’s own shadow.
Bechdel began with an explanation her of methods – from grey sketches to blue pencil to
black ink, scanned, shaded, coloured and digitally aligned with the text. Bechdel’s
work displays an obsessive record of her own life and, using Alice Miller’s The Drama of the Gifted Child, she
interprets her precocious emotional intuition as a burden that turns daughters
and sons into proto-analysts of their parents.
In Are
You My Mother? Bechdel records Virginia Woolf’s musing on To the
Lighthouse: ‘I did for myself what psychoanalysts do for their patients’ –
writing had enabled Woolf to put her mother and father to rest once and for
all. Except she does not describe this development in calm, cathartic terms,
rather her creative process is violent, murderous. Similarly, Bechdel’s
regurgitation of her family’s life is not without malice. Her mother, Helen
Bechdel, was reluctant to support the publication of family secrets, but in
response, Alison half-jokingly explains the irony of the situation: she may
never have developed a compulsion to retrace her formative years in such
impeccable detail had her family not been so cold and distant.
Despite, or possibly as a result of, her mother’s
disapproval, Bechdel has become a professional diarist and an expert in memoir,
and unearthed the graphic novel’s natural affinity with psychoanalysis. Marvel and DC comics often seem all ego
and Id, all BOOM! and KAPOWW!, and it is perhaps in a direct mockery of this
parodic superficiality and lack of psychic nuance that Bechdel carves out a
space for the unconscious, somewhere between the image and the text. With at
least two layers of meaning in every glance, Bechdel has found her own therapy
– the drawing cure, contained within moveable frames, tackling the brevity of
text and space by allowing the two to speak louder than the sum of their parts.
During a Q&A with the audience, Bechdel addressed the
differing mainstream popularity of DTWOF and her graphic novels; the
extent of the autobiographical content in her comic strips; with the discomfort
of writing about family members; change in space and format and the many
fruitless attempts at animating series of her work. The most revealing and
comical moment of Bechdel’s presentation was the series of snapshots of herself
in costume, dressed as her mother and D.W. Winnicott, which she used to
accurately illustrate postures and scenes in comic format.
Though Helen Bechdel, in the end, was a closed book, she
could not help but collaborate with her own novelisation, and so mould the
infinitely meta-textual Are
You My Mother? And in the process of sketching her enigmatic mother,
Bechdel found herself committing more and more of her own psyche to the page,
paradoxically gaining perspective through two dimensions rather than three,
until she was bound to confess, as she did at the end of her presentation, ‘I
think I am a drawing.’