Uma vida em desenhos: Posy Simmonds, no The Guardian

Posy Simmonds (n. 1945, Reino Unido) é uma autora que tem trabalhado desde o final dos anos 1970 em várias tiras de Banda Desenhada publicadas em jornais. Dessa forma, inscreve-se numa longa tradição, da Banda Desenhada e da Literatura, associada aos processos de serialização do século XIX e a uma dimensão de sátira social e política. Simmonds tem uma mão-cheia de livros infantis no seu currículo, mas a atenção crítica para com a sua obra centra-se sobretudo nas vinhetas e novelas que cria em torno de uma certa classe social endinheirada e letrada do Reino Unido contemporâneo. No seio de The Guardian, ela criou duas narrativas de fôlego, em torno de mulheres cosmopolitas, educadas, melancólicas, sensuais mas mal-amadas, e que tentam reencontrar-se, como se costuma dizer, ao mudarem-se para o campo,  onde, no entanto, encontram outros obstáculos: Gemma Bovery (2005), uma reapropriação livre da mais famosa personagem de Flaubert, e Tamara Drewe (2008), baseado num dos romances de Thomas Hardy, (e que seria adaptado ao cinema). Trabalhos mais curtos seriam coligidos em Literary Life (2003).

Pedro Moura, Moderador de "Outras Literaturas: Banda Desenhada"

Em 2010, a propósito da estreia do filme que adapta Tamara Drew em Cannes, o jornal The Guardian fala com a autora:

A couple of months ago Posy Simmonds found herself ensconced in a French hotel suite for 48 hours being interviewed, almost continuously, by TV and radio stations. She was talking about the film version of her graphic novel Tamara Drewe, which was then about to premiere at Cannes and is now about to open in London. Her French is very good, but she still brushed up on her vocabulary to anticipate a few likely questions. "I thought they'd ask what was my favourite scene and so I prepared two answers: the attempt to get the goats to mate – 'couplement des chèvres' – which in fact didn't make the final cut, and the 'lulling the spouse' scene – 'endormir l'épouse' – which did."

"Lulling the spouse" was a tactic devised by the detective novelist and inveterate philanderer Nicholas Hardiman, who, along with his long suffering wife Beth, runs the rural writers' colony at the heart of Tamara Drewe. "Behind it is the idea that to avoid suspicion, you must first arouse it," Simmonds laughs. "So you tell the spouse, rather unconvincingly, that, unexpectedly, you're going to be very late this evening and you'll be at mutual friend X's house. And then you actually are at X's house when the anxious spouse rings up, which rather puts them off checking up on you again for a while."

O texto completo em A life in drawing: Posy Simmonds

A Banda Desenhada argentina do século XX

Héctor G. Oesterheld, Alberto Breccia, Oscar Blotta, Divito, Aisenberg, Salinas, Robin Wood, Solano López são alguns dos autores de Banda Desenhada argentinos cujas criações ultrapassaram fronteiras, além do incontornável Hugo Pratt que, nascido em Itália, estabeleceu com aquele pais uma forte ligação. Diego Marinelli analisa a história do género na Argentina e a sua influência na Europa, na Revista N, da Clarin

Antes de que la venta de futbolistas fuera capaz de sumar un punto o dos a nuestro PBI, la Argentina exportaba talento en forma de creadores de viñetas. Bajo el paraguas de un formidable entramado editorial que descargaba en los quioscos centenares de miles de revistas cada semana, se desarrollaron numerosas y muy variadas camadas de autores de cómics; un magma creativo sólo comparable con el que existía en las grandes potencias de la historieta mundial: Estados Unidos, Japón y el tándem Francia-Bélgica.

Algunos nombres para ilustrar la cosa. Revistas como El Tony , Patoruzú , Rayo Rojo ,Misterix , Hora Cero , Fantasía , Tía Vicenta , Intervalo , Rico Tipo … Creadores como Héctor G. Oesterheld, Alberto Breccia, Oscar Blotta, Divito, Aisenberg, Salinas, Robin Wood, Solano López, el legendario Hugo Pratt y tantísimos otros. La gran edad de oro de la historieta argentina, que grosso modo se extendió desde comienzos de los años 40 hasta mediados de los 60 del siglo pasado, se desarrolló como causa y efecto de una maquinaria editorial enorme y de alta complejidad que producía el entretenimiento visual preferido por las clases populares, cuyo éxito comenzaría a menguar a partir de la irrupción en la vida hogareña de un curioso aparato llamado televisión.

El declive del modelo industrial del cómic nacional, en algún momento de los locos años 60, generó la aparición de otro territorio en el que los argentinos se sentirían, así y todo, bastante cómodos: el de la historieta de autor. Hasta entonces, los autores –fueran dibujantes o guionistas– eran engranajes de un modelo de producción bastante “fordiano” y encorsetado por géneros tan populares como delimitados (el humor barrial, la fantasía sci-fi, los westerns, los relatos bélicos e históricos, las historias gauchescas), que se fabricaban a ritmo de factoría pakistaní bajo el formato de la narración en episodios (el famoso “continuará”), gancho ineludible de la estrategia comercial de las revistas semanales.

Exportar talento en formato de viñetas

Chris Mugarura: The present and future of Ugandan comics industry

Chris Mugarura is a Ugandan comics artist, striving hard to enrich the comics industry and trying to change people’s stereotypical perceptions towards comics. He believes he can do this through his masterful comics skills and compilations.

Does anyone remember ‘Sagara Sanosuke’? The Japanese character—one of the main ones—from the animated film entitled Samurai X? The guy with a weird haircut and astonishing body strength, ability to smash rocks and make trees fall with only a single strike with his fist?

Lots of youths today would say—unless they didn’t have a television set at home—that this motion picture once topped their sundry favorite TV series lists during their childhoods. I myself was—and still is—a huge fan.

Storyteller Chris Mugarura has employed him as ‘Sigara aka Rwatamagufa’, one of the characters—actually the most highlighted one—in the first issue of his action-filled pictorial narrative Tekezesasi. In this exceptional piece of sequential art he introduces you to his exciting and rich-in-character superhero story which gets inspiration from our Ugandan social context.

Chris explains that the reason for why he is basing his main character on a fictional Manga-star is simply because people take time to adopt new stuff; implying that it is always wise to start with something that the audience already knows.

What is so remarkable about his debut magazine?

There is some kind of seepage of Chris’s content into the hearts and minds of the readers. His artistic skills and techniques bring the story and the characters perfect together, creating an intriguing piece which leaves no room for interference. Simply put, the reader wants to dig further into the progressions of the story as the pages are turned.

And of course, the intricate black-and-white graphics which are—as some people would call it—off the charts. In my opinion, this is a brilliant development in the visual arts scene; it is not every day that such a blip materializes.

Adding characters to the Ugandan comics archive

Tekezesasi, originally derived from a video game widely known as Tekke, is categorically catchy and unusual. The influence from Japanese Anime is evident, especially the artwork seems to connote to the Manga scene, yet it still feels like a graphic publication Made in Uganda.

Much props to this artifact’s creator since there are not many artists who has contributed to the comics archive in Uganda. Last time I checked—apart from the newspaper cartoons which don’t really count—the prominent comic magazines launched here include the famed Super Strikers and 80 Minutes.

Super Strikers, which used to run in Saturday Vision, is actually from South Africa, with a fan base which primarily includes primary pupils and a few high school kids. But the rugby chronicles 80 Minutes is Uganda bred, the people behind it call themselves Kurios (it’s a Ugandan company dealing in graphics), and they are good at what they do. (I wasn’t aware of this, but during the interview Chris tells me that he had a hand in the compilation of the magazine).

A comics culture

In many developed countries, people—of all ages in fact—vastly consume and appreciate comics. It is a narrative form of art, told by combining images and text in frames, and placing the frames sequentially in shorter stories—comic strips—or longer stories—comic books/graphic novels.

It is a recognized and established art realm in countries such as Japan, China, USA, France, Belgium, South-Korea, South Africa, et cetera.

The Japanese version Manga is reputed to be one of the most powerful styles of comics. Some well-known names in the history of Japanese comics are Osamu Tezuka (Astro Boy) and Machiko Hasegawa (Sazae-san). These guys played a big role in the development of the local comic business. Manga covers a wide range of story genres – vacillating in drama, comedy, science fiction, mystery, action-adventure, sexuality, horror, among others.

Fighting the poor reading culture

Visual appeals to people way more than text does. And the reading culture in Uganda is meager; lots of people lack the discipline and patience to take a few minutes of their time and peruse a couple of texted paragraphs. In fact, the interest and ability to encode anything printed is directed to graphical content more than writing/text.

This is one of the impulsions that intrinsically inspired Chris to make a comics magazine: “I am ready to take on a lot of negative attitudes towards the whole comic book thing. Because as I see it, this is one of the ways to fight the phenomenon of our poor reading culture.”

He is perplexed by how some parents think: “I have learnt that some Ugandan parents home school their kids, they do not want to expose them to funny stuff. I find this conservative.

Some parents think my magazine would be a bad influence to their kids. A little while ago, a parent opened it and read ‘Sigara’ and “cigarette” is what came to his mind. But ‘Sigara’ is the name of one of the characters I used. It’s a Japanese name.”

However, he has also received positive feedback from people: “One guy called me and asked if I was the one who drew the pictures in the magazine. He said his daughter really enjoyed it; she wanted to speak to me. Another parent came over to my place and asked me the same question.”

“I was a star during those days”

It takes a lot more than just practice and passion to be as adroit and crafty as he is. Drawing is not something that he has jumped into in his adulthood. He has the talent of drawing, of course, nonetheless he activated it in the early years:

“I started this as a hobby at Nakasero Primary school, which was in 1994-95. Later on I studied in Mbarara for five years where I continued with my favorite pastime of drawing blood sports and karate movie heroes like Jean-Claude van Damme and Bruce Lee. This actually helped me beating the whole Western region in Arts at O-level.”

And to further prove his point, he brags cheerfully: “I was a star during those days.”

Conversely, due to conservative attitudes from his family he had to put his practice at rest at some point during his school times: “I moved to a school in Kampala where I let go of the whole art thing and focused on other subjects. Since I happened to come from a family of “intellectuals”—doctors, engineers and the likes—who saw my artistic prospects as “non-profit” or “unserious” business, I had to focus on scholarly subjects.”

Broadening the horizon

The lack of interest and appreciation for comics as a medium is the main barricade between comics artists and the readers. Correspondingly, the mentality that comic/cartoons are “kids’ stuff” has strangled even the smallest of interest that some people may have in the art form.

Comics may seem trivial to a lot of people, yet it can be a multilayered and satirical form of expression which requires a deep and liberal sort of understanding. I may take the reader on a journey inwards and outwards at the same time, thereby broadening the horizon to already open-minded people.

Chris has worked with several organizations, illustrating and designing things for them, even though he says he still has not been able to earn much out of it: “I have done illustrations for organizations, magazines, and helped compile a magazine for the inter-religious council of Uganda. Even though these assignments were paid peanuts, they have helped me develop my skills as a writer as well as looking holistic at work processes.”

Easy business?

The comic business is definitely no walk in the park. This is one of the reasons why there are few artists in Uganda engaged in this field. One may possess a talent or skill, nevertheless creativity is fundamental.

For a person with such skills and charisma as Chris Mugarura, there is much in this field that can be achieved: “I saved up just about enough to print the comic book for sale. I am now in the process of trying to sell as many as I can to make a small business out of it. I did sell my first copy today, but I am really waiting for the students to return to school for me to make a killing.”

Lutakome ‘Felix’ Fidelis is a Ugandan freelance writer who mainly writes about hip-hop culture. His major focus is to create awareness of underground hip-hop artists and events.

in Start - Journal of Arts and Culture.

"Mafalda, vida de esta chica"

Los libros todavía están ahí, cuarenta y seis años después, en un compartimento de la mesa de luz de mi madre, junto a unas chinelas que ella ya no volverá a usar. No es un espectáculo para sensibles: están rotos, las tapas entreveradas con las páginas, las páginas mezcladas entre sí. El más viejo es de 1966, un año antes de que yo naciera. El último es de 1973, el año en que empecé a leer de corrido. Fue por esos libros apaisados, de tapas de colores, publicados por la editorial argentina Ediciones de la Flor, que conocí a Mafalda, la historieta que había dibujado Quino desde 1962 y a lo largo de una década. Los descubrí a mis siete, hurgando, como siempre hurgaba —con una avidez de comadreja— por todos los rincones de la casa y, aunque mis padres me permitieron leerlos, me advirtieron que no los iba a entender porque no eran libros para chicos. Entonces no me pareció, pero años después entendí que era verdad: que esos no eran libros para chicos.

Continuar a ler no El País.