Scan barcode
saroz162's review against another edition
2.0
My boss handed me this book just before she left the state to start a new job. Her husband was very into writing and drawing "sequential art" (comics), and my guess is she got it through him. She knew that, as a writer, I had an interest in comics creation and would probably find it interesting.
And I *do* find it interesting, even if the concept is a little insular. Basically, it was written by a pair of sequential art professors from Savannah College of Art and Design, with each chapter illustrated by a different one of their senior students. There's a variety of art and styles in the book and I think every reader would find at least one or two that "gelled" for them. All of that is good. However, the story follows these self-same professors teaching a class of new students as they become aware of how sequential art works. And that's fine, too, but unless you know these people (and I don't) there's not really much to it. All of the characters are archetypes, some more common than others. Even the professors boil down to "the strait-laced one" and "the zany one." I think I would gain more if I knew these people, or if - frankly - I was an artist. I look at things strictly from a story perspective, and I recognize that this book is basically meant for artists who are really interested in things like line width and panel placement. I understand the significance of those elements, but I can't say I really find them interesting, per se.
Overall this book feels like what I assume it may well be - a "textbook" written by two professors to use in their own classes. That's fine. If I knew a burgeoning young comics artist I mind well hand it to them. For my purposes, however, it's simply a pleasant little examination of the different styles that are possible in sequential art. It took me about 45 minutes to read, and that was good enough for me.
And I *do* find it interesting, even if the concept is a little insular. Basically, it was written by a pair of sequential art professors from Savannah College of Art and Design, with each chapter illustrated by a different one of their senior students. There's a variety of art and styles in the book and I think every reader would find at least one or two that "gelled" for them. All of that is good. However, the story follows these self-same professors teaching a class of new students as they become aware of how sequential art works. And that's fine, too, but unless you know these people (and I don't) there's not really much to it. All of the characters are archetypes, some more common than others. Even the professors boil down to "the strait-laced one" and "the zany one." I think I would gain more if I knew these people, or if - frankly - I was an artist. I look at things strictly from a story perspective, and I recognize that this book is basically meant for artists who are really interested in things like line width and panel placement. I understand the significance of those elements, but I can't say I really find them interesting, per se.
Overall this book feels like what I assume it may well be - a "textbook" written by two professors to use in their own classes. That's fine. If I knew a burgeoning young comics artist I mind well hand it to them. For my purposes, however, it's simply a pleasant little examination of the different styles that are possible in sequential art. It took me about 45 minutes to read, and that was good enough for me.
jonh's review
2.0
I liked this book a lot when I was younger. Now I have reservations.
The Bristol Board Jungle is based on the experiences of its two authors--Bob Pendarvis and Mark Kneece--teaching a course on writing graphic novel's. Over the course of the semester, we get to see the two of them grow as teachers, their students grow as artists and storytellers, and development of their creative work.
I've always had a thing for graphic novels, and in reading The Bristol Board Jungle, I thought it was cool to see so many different artistic styles collected together. And I appreciated the meta-narrative, of these works being presented as the work of students in a graphic novel class. I learned a little about storytelling, and I generally liked the characters and hoped they would succeed as graphic novelists.
Now, though, something seems off, and I'm not sure if it's intentional.
Bob and Mark clearly have their favorite students: all work in the class gets fair criticism, but some of that criticism seems to be framed in kinder terms. There are slackers, procrastinators and students with bad attitudes in the class, and Bob and Mark seem pretty quick to chastise them. Which, to a certain extent, is understandable. If you have a student who's not putting forth effort to get work done, it should be addressed, especially if it potentially affects the work of others in the class.
But in the course of The Bristol Board Jungle, we only see admonishment. Favorable students get constructive criticism, and less favorable students routinely get criticized. And after a certain point . . . don't you think the professors would intervene a little more? Don't you think they'd take the time to sit down and talk with students who they thought were struggling? That seems obvious to me, and yet that never happens. Instead, those "bad" students are shown as being rude and disrespectful even outside of class, and we're made to believe that they deserve whatever misfortune befalls them.
Until, at last, we find ourselves on the floor of a comics convention: a chance for the students to show off their work. The "good" students get either constructive criticism from professionals, opportunities for work or the consolation of winning a costume contest. The "bad" students get mocked for their "amateurish" illustrations. It feels very heavy-handed.
Except for one little detail, and this treads into spoiler territory. One of the more cynical students gets offered a graphic novel deal. Throughout the class his work is savaged by his teachers and peers, and he's made out to be THE bad student, and he gets a book deal. It's mentioned once, and never discussed again.
And I'm not sure what to make of it.
I want to give Bob and Mark the benefit of the doubt, and imagine that this is intentional. I'd like to think that they're acknowledging the complexities of the real world compared to the academic world, that even a "bad" student could be successful. I like to think that, in The Bristol Board Jungle, they acknowledge that their lessons aren't the only way to approach graphic novels. That it's a good START, but that there isn't any one way to write and draw a story, or to get it published.
I like to think that, but the rest of the book feels so simplistically divided between good and bad, right and wrong, that I have a hard time believing this nuance was intentional.
Most of the graphic novels I read and enjoy break the rules of what Bob and Mark are teaching in their graphic novel course. And I acknowledge that that is going to color my reading of it, make me skeptical of the messages they're trying to convey. But I think I'd have an easier time accepting their lessons if it didn't feel so heavy-handed.
The Bristol Board Jungle purports to be an introduction to the art of writing graphic novels, as well as a meta-narrative on what it means to teach and learn that particular medium. As a meta-narrative, it's fairly fun, and the characters--when not drawn along the line of good student/bad student--are fairly fleshed out. But this narrative is constantly interrupted by those teachable moments, where it feels less like a part of the story and more of a direct-address to the reader. If the lessons weren't so narrow, more open and interpretive, I think I'd appreciate it more. But as it stands, the lessons feel simplistic and stifling, and the book as a whole suffers.
It's worth a read, at least once. But in rereading it, I found The Bristol Board Jungle to be lacking.
The Bristol Board Jungle is based on the experiences of its two authors--Bob Pendarvis and Mark Kneece--teaching a course on writing graphic novel's. Over the course of the semester, we get to see the two of them grow as teachers, their students grow as artists and storytellers, and development of their creative work.
I've always had a thing for graphic novels, and in reading The Bristol Board Jungle, I thought it was cool to see so many different artistic styles collected together. And I appreciated the meta-narrative, of these works being presented as the work of students in a graphic novel class. I learned a little about storytelling, and I generally liked the characters and hoped they would succeed as graphic novelists.
Now, though, something seems off, and I'm not sure if it's intentional.
Bob and Mark clearly have their favorite students: all work in the class gets fair criticism, but some of that criticism seems to be framed in kinder terms. There are slackers, procrastinators and students with bad attitudes in the class, and Bob and Mark seem pretty quick to chastise them. Which, to a certain extent, is understandable. If you have a student who's not putting forth effort to get work done, it should be addressed, especially if it potentially affects the work of others in the class.
But in the course of The Bristol Board Jungle, we only see admonishment. Favorable students get constructive criticism, and less favorable students routinely get criticized. And after a certain point . . . don't you think the professors would intervene a little more? Don't you think they'd take the time to sit down and talk with students who they thought were struggling? That seems obvious to me, and yet that never happens. Instead, those "bad" students are shown as being rude and disrespectful even outside of class, and we're made to believe that they deserve whatever misfortune befalls them.
Until, at last, we find ourselves on the floor of a comics convention: a chance for the students to show off their work. The "good" students get either constructive criticism from professionals, opportunities for work or the consolation of winning a costume contest. The "bad" students get mocked for their "amateurish" illustrations. It feels very heavy-handed.
Except for one little detail, and this treads into spoiler territory. One of the more cynical students gets offered a graphic novel deal. Throughout the class his work is savaged by his teachers and peers, and he's made out to be THE bad student, and he gets a book deal. It's mentioned once, and never discussed again.
And I'm not sure what to make of it.
I want to give Bob and Mark the benefit of the doubt, and imagine that this is intentional. I'd like to think that they're acknowledging the complexities of the real world compared to the academic world, that even a "bad" student could be successful. I like to think that, in The Bristol Board Jungle, they acknowledge that their lessons aren't the only way to approach graphic novels. That it's a good START, but that there isn't any one way to write and draw a story, or to get it published.
I like to think that, but the rest of the book feels so simplistically divided between good and bad, right and wrong, that I have a hard time believing this nuance was intentional.
Most of the graphic novels I read and enjoy break the rules of what Bob and Mark are teaching in their graphic novel course. And I acknowledge that that is going to color my reading of it, make me skeptical of the messages they're trying to convey. But I think I'd have an easier time accepting their lessons if it didn't feel so heavy-handed.
The Bristol Board Jungle purports to be an introduction to the art of writing graphic novels, as well as a meta-narrative on what it means to teach and learn that particular medium. As a meta-narrative, it's fairly fun, and the characters--when not drawn along the line of good student/bad student--are fairly fleshed out. But this narrative is constantly interrupted by those teachable moments, where it feels less like a part of the story and more of a direct-address to the reader. If the lessons weren't so narrow, more open and interpretive, I think I'd appreciate it more. But as it stands, the lessons feel simplistic and stifling, and the book as a whole suffers.
It's worth a read, at least once. But in rereading it, I found The Bristol Board Jungle to be lacking.
More...