A graphic view from Delhi
Kashmir Pending
by Naseer Ahmed and Saurabh Singh
Phantomville, 2007
There is a new 'phenomenon' currently doing the rounds with book lovers in India. It is apparently called the Graphic Novel. The first volume with that particular nomenclature was created by Sarnath Bannerjee in 2004, titled Corridor. It was a sketch of some of the various lives that inhabit the nooks and corners of a habitat called Delhi, each in their own miniature worlds, each with their own idiosyncrasies. The following three years saw the publication of three more graphic novels, all by Phantomville, an imprint set up by Bannerjee himself. As such, the arrival of the graphic novel in India seems official. Any celebration of this new era of illustrated narrative, however, cannot discount the fact that some of these new books have been disappointments, in both content and technique.
Take, for example, Kashmir Pending, by Naseer Ahmed and Saurabh Singh, the fourth in Phantomville's line. This is a story of a former'militant', Mushtaq Miyan. The narrative starts with Mushtaq's flashbacks from jail about his hatred for the Indian Army, then goes on to tell of how he became a militant and how he surrendered when he realised the futility of violence in a bout of unpredictable epiphany. In between are bits and bobs about demonstrations, political talks and the ideological ranting of a few rabid mullahs. In a nutshell, the book quickly runs through the conflict in Kashmir, using Mushtaq as a case study, before ending with a note upholding the noble principle of non-violence.
Kashmir Pending is actually a boring book in its content and technique, as well as in the larger understanding that it displays of the issues covered. If a graphic novel uses the interplay of words and images as its grammar, this book has hit far off the mark. Ahmed and Singh indulge in sweeping, unspecific lines such as "Srinagar, a small city in the 18th century, gradually became a hub of politics, economics and social development". Its graphic rendition offers even less. The artwork lacks detail, draughtsmanship and emotion (though it does provide an overall sense of grimness and gloom, which is important). Indeed, it often looks like a compilation of digitally rendered photographs, which could have been used more creatively for a better read.
The graphic representation of Mushtaq is unclear and constantly changing from page to page, for no apparent reason. This is symptomatic of other flaws: there are too many incongruous details, which leave a reader confused and, thus, potentially disinterested. On the other hand, many crucial political details and characters, such as the firebrand orator Qasim, go unexplained and unexplored. Similarly, the book fails to tell us why exactly Mushtaq holds the confusions he does, or why exactly he keeps shifting from one political stance to another. At other times there are just too few details. The book's creators evidently assume that readers will instantly understand what the BSF or the K force refer to – not just as acronyms, but as ideologies – without explicating them either textually or graphically.
The book's stark colour palette only further confuses matters. Is it not essential for the creators to understand the implications of the colours green and orange, particularly in the context of Kashmir? Though each picture looks interesting separately, together it is incongruous to render the Islamic representative and the army personnel in the exact same tone of green. Orange, meanwhile, seems to be used merely for contrast, without any understanding of the political associations of the colour itself. Taken together, going by simple rules of either hardcore comics followers or graphic-novel beginners, Kashmir Pending fails to engage its readers.
It is perhaps too harsh to compare this first effort with such big-name graphic-novel artists as Joe Sacco or Marjane Satrapi, as Kashmir Pending does show a great deal of conviction. At the same time, however, it misses a significant point inherent to the medium it has chosen. This book could have worked wonderfully well as a simple short story, with the conflict in the Kashmir Valley as a backdrop. But it fails to give the journalistic quality and content that it purportedly intended to offer.
At the outset, Ahmed and Singh mention that what follows is based on a true story. But the problem with dealing with issues such as Kashmir is precisely that of truth. While this can be a true story, other true stories also exist in Kashmir, and here one can find an existence of conflicts between truths in perpetuity. While the chronicle of Mushtaq could have been true, one could tell the tale of another 'militant' who, perhaps, was captured and made to do dirty work for the security establishment. The conflict in Kashmir is not just a backdrop to a novel. It is also a harsh reality.
This is where it is important to look at works of other creators of graphic novels, such as Sacco. Sacco's Palestine is a journalistic engagement with an honest effort to learn. A reading of the book not only leaves the reader well-informed about the history of and current realities in Palestine, but also leaves the reader to draw his own conclusions, without being judgemental. For uninformed readers, however, Kashmir Pending will remain little more than a grim blurb on the Kashmir issue – it simply leaves too many questions unanswered.
As important as it is to acknowledge and encourage the emerging graphic-novel efforts in India, it is equally important to understand the quality and craftsmanship required for works such as Kashmir Pending to create a level of their own. This is all the more so if this new medium intends to add to the existing rich and competitive tradition of illustrated narratives.
Public engagement
Comics, the medium of sequential art and storytelling, have been created in India for over 60 years. Many in the Subcontinent have memories of tucking up with Amar Chitra Kathas and Chandamamas during summer holidays and Sunday afternoons. People have shared, collected and held on to these comics. But apart from being a part of nostalgia, this medium is also an iconography of visual literature that has allowed, accommodated and nourished larger global perspectives.
Within this format of sequential storytelling there are many structures – the comic strip, the single pagers, complete character series, or a combination of these. And now, there is the graphic novel, a format that allows the artist and the writer as many pages as they wish to tell their story. Over the years, the graphic novel has become a space for artists to tell myriad stories with a great deal of political awareness, honesty and craftsmanship.
The noteworthiness of the better-known graphic novels comes from the fact that they have managed to enhance the public's understanding on their issues of engagement. One may differ ideologically or otherwise with the content of these works, but their greatest accomplishment has been to evoke a thought process whereby the reader is critically engaged with the text. Illustrated narratives – be it comic journalism trying to understand Palestine, or children's books reinforcing dominant iconographic traditions – play an important role in creating public opinion on discourses influencing peopel's lives and societies. This is where Kashmir Pending fails.
For the consumer of illustrated narratives in India, the graphic novel is something to celebrate, as it adds to the existing world of this format. But while the graphic novel in India is projected (and marketed) as a radical, hip and arty phenomenon, a cocktail of intellectual involvement and artistic genius, the form has failed to give readers quality in content. There has also not been a corresponding market strategy whereby graphic novels can be read as merely any other book. Readers are ready to experiment, and the publishing industry is doing well. The marketing of graphic novels, however, seems to be done solely with a metropolitan audience in mind, completely disregarding potential readers in smaller towns.
A text's significance in the public domain is, after all, created as much by readership and the critical engagement of consumers as it is by sales figures. Quality, furthermore, gives that text an extra edge – not only increasing its shelf life, but also contributing to an expanded knowledge base. To Marshall McLuhan, the medium was something with which to reckon. With regards to the 'phenomenon' of the graphic novel in India, this idea has clearly been taken very seriously. But in the hubbub, let us not forget that McLuhan also emphasised content – which, for the moment at least, seems to have been lost in this new iteration.