The comics world lost a big star recently.
Born in China in 1925, Alfonso Wong worked in illustration before and after his move to Hong Kong in 1956. Sometime around 1960 or 1961, his beloved character Old Master Q took shape. Old Master Q turned into a comic strip with several repeating characters, including his two buddies, a foil, and a love interest.
Although some of the strips have words, many are wordless. The “Old Master Q” comic reads like the best pantomime strips, such as the original “Ferd’nand” and “The Little King.” There is always the set up, the reveal, and the reaction. The strips were seamless, with a quick buildup to the gag. They could take place in any country, any time.
As the years passed, Old Master Q became a marketing empire, especially in Hong Kong, but also extending to other areas of southeast Asia and other areas with large overseas Chinese populations. A namesake comic was printed monthly and Old Master Q began to appear on licensed products and in advertisements.
Sometime in the 1980’s, his son Joseph Wong took over. Unlike many strips that are continued after the creator’s retirement, Joseph Wong was an able heir. Alphonso Wong moved to California where he continued making art and no doubt stayed in touch with his characters. He died this month due to organ failure.
Check out more of Alphonso Wong’s work here: Old Master Q Comics. You certainly won’t regret it!
One blog that I frequently check is Everyday Life in Maoist China maintained by Covell Meyskens. The author scours Chinese websites to find pictures, mostly from the days of Mao or thereabouts, and reposts them. Lots of great, old photos that are not collected elsewhere and that I would never be able to come across alone. I was delighted to see this post with scans of old political cartoons.
A few of the cartoons show some pretty ugly racism directed especially toward the Japanese, though one of the cartoons shows particular sensitivity to African-Americans. If I could read Chinese, I’m sure I could comment more on the content, but at least the artwork in is as good and accessible as anything in the West. Several of the cartoons really shine and make great statements, especially from the anti-war side. Although, those anti-war cartoons are also somewhat hypocritical (not from the artists’ points of view, but the state’s) given the People’s Republic of China’s rampant militism. Frequent commentary in the political cartoons of communist countries includes the commentaries on racism in the United States. This is a fine and legitimate target for political cartoons, but again, given China’s treatment of minorities, it is also somewhat hypocritical.
The BBC continues experimenting with comics as reporting, although their most recent attempt is fiction based on reporting. The fifth of five installments was released today. “Hooked” is the story of Buba, a young man in Guinea-Bissau who becomes addicted to drugs.
The author, an English reporter named Benjamin Dix, spent time in Guinea-Bissau before writing the short script for the comic. The artist, English-Nigerian political cartoonist Tayo Fatunla, is known more for artistic editorials than comics.
Unfortunately, “Hooked” comes off more as a public service announcement than a comic. It is not terrible, but it moves like a pamphlet or a Chick tract than something you read once and return to a second time for the art. Were “Hooked” to be longer and more character-driven, it would certainly be much more interesting.
I recently came across artist Priya Kurian when I read this illustrated article on the BBC. Look at those delightful pictures!
After a quick search, it seems that she mostly works with book illustrations, but also dabbles in advertising, comics, and animation. Kurian maintains two blogs (I’m not sure what the difference is): Delhittante and etcetera etcetera. Most of her casual work seems to focus on Indian daily life, but her for-hire illustrations range from folktales to young adult novels to, well, anything else.
There is a great universality to her pictures. Take the example to the right. Replace the dress with anything else and you have a scene from anywhere else in the world. Very cool.
I just love her natural drawings and colors. You can search all day but you won’t find an artist with more interesting work today!
Like every other guy on the planet, I consider myself a student of history. I particularly enjoy reading the history of people in turmoil. One topic which I’ve read at least a dozen books about is the Cultural Revolution in China. It was a time of torture, gulag, forced disappearances, and even famine. The most widely documented part of the Cultural Revolution is the anarchy created by the Red Guards, groups of mostly middle and high school students in the cities who organized destructive campaigns against Old Habits, Old Culture, Old Customs, and Old Ideas in the name of modernity. Mao himself encouraged the Red Guards as a way to rehabilitate his image after the disastrous Great Leap Forward.
Mao created an enormous propaganda campaign that included comic books, which helps give me something to talk about here. “Battle of Wits: We Are Chairman Mao’s Red Guards” is a fifty-four page comic about Xiao Hong, a middle school student who spies on her own grandpa and catches him in a conspiracy to send a university journal to Soviet spies. She goes through his mail, spies on him from above, and eventually gets the military police to catch him fleeing his own apartment in a rush to make a drop. It was all encouraged by Mao and the comic was all relatively mild compared to what actually happened during the Cultural Revolution.
If you have a chance, read the English translation here at China Smack. As with most propaganda comics, the writing is terrible. It’s the typical “illustrated narrative” style that is easy to do and not exactly a comic: the book does not need the illustrations. Nevertheless, the illustrations are beautiful. The artist used lots of different brushes and pens to create lush pictures that are somewhere between “Little Orphan Annie” and a really good Japanese comic. The writing and story, well, clearly leave a lot to be desired.
On a historical note, it appears this book was published in 1976, the year the Cultural Revolution ended, along with Mao himself. This propaganda was one of Mao’s last breaths, a desperate grab to keep his movement going.
On a literary note, there is a pretty big English translation (via the French) of Chinese communist comics called “The People’s Comic Book: Red Women’s Detachment, Hot on the Trail, and Other Comics.” It’s from 1973. I’ll write a review of it soon now that I’m thinking about it. Terrible comics, but interesting culture.
Sanmao is one of China’s most popular comic strips. The title has been around for 79 years, longer than most other comics around the world. Published in newspapers, comic book specials, and in other forms of media, Sanmao made an impression on several generations of Chinese readers. Sanmao is endearing, enduring, violent, and political.
Born during the Japanese invasion of China Sanmao was orphaned when Japan attacked China, he wanders the streets of Shanghai as part of an army of skin-and-bones orphans. He is so malnourished, that he cannot grow much hair, thus the name, Sanmao, which means “three hairs.” At the time, street orphans were ubiquitous in China and Sanmao gave them an odd charm. He was kicked around by rich business elites while trying to find bread and a place to sleep.
Zhang Leping created Sanmao. He was eminently familiar with the hardships of his character. Zhang grew up during the Warlord Era and saw firsthand the corruption and disregard for life that existed at the time. The quality of Zhang’s early dark comics stands with the best of the other socially criticizing comics that have appeared since then. The artwork is sparse and uncluttered, with fast, moving lines.
Through the years, Sanmao evolved. He joined the army in order to fight the Japanese. During the war, he watched his fellow soldiers and friends die in bloody pages. Smaller, more cunning and more astute, Sanmao evaded death and survived the war. When the war with the Japanese was over, the little boy joined the Chinese Communist Party to fight against the Kuomintang.
By the time the CCP took over China, Sanmao became a propaganda tool, following his Zhang’s sympathies. Zhang worked for state-run newspapers and periodicals for his entire career. Sanmao would read books by exemplary communist workers and then follow their orders to do the right thing in difficult situations. During the Cultural Revolution, he would gather friends to criticize more sophisticated members of his environment. He would teach children about safe drinking water and sharing food with workers. Later, in less propagandist but equally goody-two-shoes strips, he would throw dirt on drug users, expose petty counterfeiters, and plant trees in public parks.
After the Zhang passed away, his studio was turned into a museum and a typically Western fight for ownership of Sanmao’s copyright occurred and now Sanmao travels in space and appears in less propagandist comics and movies. Since his inception, Sanmao has done well in movies, including cartoons and live action specials.
Sanmao’s life during the war is most remembered. It was a turning point in Chinese history, defining generations of activist citizens. Sanmao showed in an honest fashion just how brutal life was in China at the time, for orphans and soldiers, and later the comic boy represented his generation as an ideal communist flag bearer.