Although comics have been an integral part of the development of visual culture throughout the 20th century, and have increasingly served as inspiration for films, the struggle for recognition within an English literature context continues to be an uphill battle.
“In the South African bookselling situation, there is no category for graphic literature,” says Andy Mason, of Artworks Communication, which publishes the annual Mamba Comix. “They don’t know where to put these things. In France, for example, there is an institutionalised category for bande dessinee, which literally means drawn strips.”
In what is a concerted “assault on the mainstream”, Mamba has undergone a dramatic makeover, from nondescript black and white into a 96-page, full-colour, glossy book. This was possible, in part, due to the efforts of Johannesburg-based printer and publisher Miodrag Pepic, who offered a “no-profit” printing arrangement to the publication.
If you ask for it by name, says Mason, booksellers will be familiar with it, saving a lot of graphic-literature junkies time on their knees scouring book shelves in vain.
For Mason, the English language has always seemed to have a fear of the “multivalent” image, which is why, he argues, Zapiro can get away with what he does in a newspaper context, because it is relatively constrained. “That’s why people are afraid of graffiti,” he says, drawing a link between comics and aerosol art, which is featured in the publication for the first time. “They want the image to be orderly.”
“There is a definite relationship between graffiti, cartooning and comics. Graffiti artists draw a lot of influence from cartoonists,” says Durban graffiti artist Ewok. He is a member of the Off the Wall Collectiv, a group of artists who seek to take this outlaw art form “off the wall” and into the gallery environment. He compiled the six-page spread showcasing the nocturnal exploits of the city’s anonymous spray-can artists, with their trademark polemics thrown in for good measure.
The fourth instalment of Mamba is more well-rounded than its predecessors. There are interviews with Zapiro on the Muhammad cartoon uproar, Joe Dog on the global ascent of Bitterkomix, an introductory piece on the manga phenomenon, book reviews and an overview on the state of graphic literature around the globe.
There are strong showings from original Durban Cartoon Project members Tyrone Love, Themba Siwela and Sifiso Yalo, and newcomers Thabani Gumede and Mondli Hadebe.
Nikhil Singh is typically warped with his epic Salem Brownstone, which is a collaboration with London-based John Dunning.
A lot of the material, specifically Alastair Findlay’s hilarious The Light Bulb and struggle-era pioneer Mogorosi Motshumi’s Hard Rock: One Cartoonist’s Journey, has an autobiographical slant. Findlay, who works for the Sunday Sun and The Citizen, succinctly captures South Africa’s preoccupation with political correctness, which should have fellow graphic artists chuckling in cognisance.
Motshumi, one of the first comic artists to emerge from the townships while they were still dominated by white people drawing for black audiences, recounts his tumultuous life with wry humour.
Mamba Comix is available at Exclusive Books countrywide for R89,99