narration in comics by pascal lefèvre
DESCRIPTION
Narration in ComicsTRANSCRIPT
![Page 1: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/1.jpg)
O nline Magazine of the V isual Narrative - ISSN 1780-678X
Home Home archive
Issue 1. Cognitive Narratology
Narration in ComicsAuthor: Pascal Lefèvre
Published: August 2000
Abstract (E): Cognitive narratology states that the reader arrives with
schemata, cognitive frames for a meaningful organisation of various
interrelated concepts, based on previous experiences. However, the
reader is also cued to perform a specific activity by the artwork. Reading is
a dynamic and continuous process. Models, the basis of the reader's
schemata, assumptions, inferences and hypotheses, are set up by both
extrinsic and intrinsic norms. Comics readers use similar constructive
procedures as in constructing reality from real-life perceptions, and
narration should be understood as the organisation of a set of cues used
in constructing a story. The close reading of a Flemish 1947-comic strip
shows that even such a simple one-page gag can implement various
strategies and formal organisations besides pure narration. There are
many aspects and elements without any strict narrative function in comics.
The whole of a narrative is far more than the sum of its events.
Keywords: narration, Vandersteen, schemata
1. IntroductionDuring the last 20 years a small but growing number of narratologists (Bordwell,
1985; Reid, 1992; Fludernik, 1996; Herman, 1997) have stressed the role of the
reader and the way a 'text' engages this reader in semantic exchanges. In the
same way I shall focus on the way comics cue the reader to a specific reading
through their form and how readers are able to activate relevant categories of
knowledge, with or without explicit textual clues to guide them (Herman, 1997).
Certain concepts from cognitive psychology might help us with the description of a
reader's understanding of a graphic narrative. In his interesting book Moving
Pictures, Torben Grodal (1997) explained the close links between narrative and
cognitive-emotional activation. He argues that mental models and image-
schemata can provide more general descriptions of the cognitive and emotional
role of the human body than psychoanalysis or psychosemiotics can (Grodal,
1997: 282). In this study I will try to show some of the assumptions, inferences,
hypotheses, schemata the reader needs to activate a comic and how a comic can
cue the reader to perform a specific activity. From this perspective comics don't
differ that much from other media as film, novel, theatre... Besides, I shall also
briefly analyse how comics can deviate from the proposed definition of narration,
where narration begins and where it ends.
My definition only describes the most essential characteristics of narration. For
me, the core definition of a narrative is: 'A formal system that the reader
interprets as a interesting representation of a series of logically and
chronologically related events, caused or experienced by actors.' It is a formal
system because it is a set of elements that depend on and affect one another.
Form is the overall system of relations the reader perceives in a comic. The
reader has access to the formal system of the comic through his visual sense. In
comics (or other narratives) meanings are constructed by the reader's
![Page 2: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/2.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
2/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
interpretation of the formal system (drawings and texts). His unifying or framing
act of perception and interpretation activates the comic. The events themselves
are not included in the narrative, only the way they are represented (drawn). If
the reader does not perceive the representation as interesting, he would not
continue his interpretation and reading activity. An event can we define as
something which happens or develops over a period of time. Usually the narrative
includes beginning and end of this development, but they are in any case implicitly
contained. Previous events are seen as causes for later events; what happens
first has consequences for what happens later (this implies a chronological
structure). And actors can be defined (Bal, 1997: 5) as agents who perform
actions (causing or experiencing an event). Actors are not necessarily human,
they can be animals, robots, supernatural creatures, extraterrestrials...
This definition of a narrative excludes pure constatations, descriptions, ideas,
images, reasoning, arguments, catalogues, etc. However, these could become
narrative if they included the necessary elements. Still, a comic (or another form
of narration) does not consist solely of narration (Groensteen, 1988). Narrative
comics sometimes feature sequences where the narration is of secondary
importance. Such sequences then display other, more salient characteristics, like
categorical or poetic ones. Non-narrative elements can be incorporated in the
comic and they can be of some importance for the narrative.
I will test my definition in close reading of a specific page from "De Familie Snoek"
(The Pike Family), a Flemish one-page gag comic from 1947 by Willy
Vandersteen, who later became the best-selling comics artist in the Low
Countries.
I thank Tom Pijnenborg for his help on the English translation and Jan Baetens for
his valuable comments on the first draft of this paper, which was first presented at
ICAF, September 1999.
2. Reading a comicFirstly, I will disregard the interpretation of separate panels, because I want to
focus on the sequential aspect of comics, and more specifically their narrational
qualities. However, I certainly will not neglect the fact that, since several events
can be represented in one panel, a single image can be narrative according to my
definition. In that case the sole panel consists of several virtual panels or frames
as in some photos (a.o. Marey) or in paintings (a.o. "Nude Descending a Staircase
No. 2." by Duchamps). But also in the domain of the comics there are countless
examples wherein a single panel seems to contain a representation of a cause
and an effect, of several distinct positions of a moving thing or character. But the
reader has always to divide mentally what is given as one. The readers adds
mentally frames inside the panel.
![Page 3: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/3.jpg)
3/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
The Family Snoek, "With all modern conveniences"
Secondly, I reject any notion of a strict separation between form and content; in
my opinion form is more than an empty and coded container for content (Lefèvre,
1999). Although verbal description can never grasp exactly what one sees in an
image, I will, however, for the sake of convenience, assume that one can give an
approximate verbal description.
An image can show actions or objects, and the reader usually has no difficulties
distinguishing between both. The reader also accepts the notion of the frame. He
assumes that the fictive world does not end at the border of a panel. He also
accepts the intern 'hors champ'; for instance, when the stairs leading to the
basement are not depicted a third time, the reader does not interpret this as if the
stairs disappeared, that the world of this comic is unstable and volatile.
In fact, the reader does not come unbiased or innocent. He arrives with schemata,
which are cognitive frameworks for the meaningful organisation of various
interrelated concepts based on previous experiences (Sternberg, 1996: 508). A
schema is a configuration of knowledge about objects and events, including
general information. The schema expresses typical information, not the unique
features of a specific thing, situation or event (Haberlandt, 1994: 147). A special
kind of schemas are scripts. A script is a structured representation describing a
stereotyped sequence of events in a particular context. It is a structure for a
schema involving a common understanding about the characteristic actors,
![Page 4: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/4.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
4/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
objects and sequence of actions in a stereotypical situation (Sternberg, 1996:
508). Although the exact workings of these schemata are not completely
understood, I believe there is some truth in the concept. More and more
narratologists are applying this cognitive concept to their studies of narration.
Monika Fludernik makes an important distinction between story schema (the
fictional world) and discourse schema (telling). She does not entirely reject the
story vs discourse distinction, but relegates it to those parameters which depend
on a realistic cognization of both the story-world and the narrational act (1966:
336). At the same time, we can use also Bordwell's distinction (1985: 150-153)
between external and internal schemata. Paraphrasing Bordwell, we could say
that the reader applies the external schemata to the comic, matching the
expectations appropriate to the norms with their fulfillment within the comic.
Greater or lesser deviations from these norms stand out as prominent. But at the
same time, the viewer is alert for any norms set up by the comic itself. The
intrinsic norms may coincide with or deviate from the conventions of the extrinsic
set. Finally, the reader may encounter foregrounded elements the moment the
comic diverges to some degree from intrinsic norms. "In a sort of feedback
process, these deviations may then be compared with pertinent extrinsic norms."
(Bordwell, 1985: 153) Throughout this process, both intrinsic and extrinsic norms
set up models, which form the basis of spectators' schemata, assumptions,
inferences, and hypotheses.
It seems reasonable that comics readers use similar - or even identical -
constructive procedures as they do when they construct reality from their real-life
perceptions (Grodal, 1997:29). For example, a reader has no difficulties
discerning the important actors from the background (décor and supernumerary
figures). It is quite similar to everyday life where one for example, does not
expect a house to become a character.
There are, of course, striking differences with real life. First of all, the pictures of a
comic consist only of static lines and colors on a two dimensional plane. The
artificial nature of the images strikes the viewer, but usually doesn't hinder an
easy interpretation. The various projection and denotation systems (Willats, 1997)
express different kinds of truths. The artificial nature of the images makes it
possible that fiction is not bound by the same physical laws as our reality is.
Deviations (e.g. the powers of Superman) are not problematic for the reader,
because he knows it is make-believe. There are devices to make the weirdest
things acceptable in fiction. It is the degree of coherence of the fictive world (e.g.
its own set of physical laws) which is crucial for the acceptance by the reader. Or
as Fludernik (1996: 316) confirms: "Realism is always an effect of interpretation,
but this effect can be thwarted by radical inconsistencies in the represented
fictional world." In comics some inconsistencies, for example in the representation
of space, are not even perceived or considered as troubling by the reader.
Intrinsic norms delivered by the comic can construct models which form the basis
of readers' schemata, assumptions, inferences and hypotheses (Bordwell, 1985:
153). The world of a comic needs not to be static, it can change over time.
However, if changes are too abrupt, readers will get confused and loose interest in
the story. In a traditional comic the fictive world can be incoherent as long as the
narrative concept is respected. In our example of "De Familie Snoek" the bathtub
is not drawn exactly the same. The second time it is depicted, tiles are up to the
edge, while in the other cases the tub has a border. It is a detail, which most
readers won't even notice. Even when a reader sees this change in the diegetic
world, it would not necessarily undermine his believe in a stable diegetic world.
Maybe he looks for some external reason as the author's lack of carefulness for
such details.
The reader has to accept that the arrangement of the panels on the page is not
random, but directed, and that the panels are interconnected. They form a
sequence of successive situations.
![Page 5: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/5.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
5/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
According to cognitive psychologists our interaction with the environment and with
other people consists of sequences of events: "Usually we have no difficulty
understanding and participating in events, and we know the likely consequences
of actions. We are also familiar with the objects and the roles of participants in
typical events (...)" (Haberlandt, 1994: 144-145). If we are already familiar with
sequences of events in our daily life, we probably should have no problems
understanding representations of such sequences in comics. The only problem
could be the way a sequence is represented: some representations ask more
imagination from the viewer. And there are also other differences. While
sequences seem to be continuous in daily life, this is not possible in comics.
Comics are by necessity an elliptic medium. Unlike films or stage plays, comics
can only represent fragments of events (and objects). A comic has to suggest a
whole sequence of events by representing only some single significant actions. In
our case study, we see the artist did not show all phases of simple events like
Leonard stopping his work in the cellar, climbing the stairs and walking in the hall.
Still, the reader can easily interpret the whole on the basis of its similarities to
known sequences in daily life.
A comic showing all successive phases in detail could be quite boring. The
traditional reader prefers the story to move forward, so most actions are limited
to the essential phases. Showing Leonard returning to his work in the cellar would
be redundant. The reader understands Leonard returned, even though this action
is not depicted. Several events are systematically left out: actions like going down
to the cellar, climbing the stairs and opening the bathroom door. These are
implied in the events shown. Although there is no real evidence that the 'missing'
events occured in the diegetic world, most readers just assume on the basis of
what is shown that they happened. (Experimental comics can play with such
assumptions.) Furthermore, the story itself is but a fragment, while daily life
continues until death. Because of the resolution situated in the last panel, there is
no internal need to prolong the story, even though Leonard Snoek will certainly
reappear in the next episode.
There are a lot of basic conditions (shemata) needed to read a comic. A crucial
shema to understand a comic is the elliptic and fragmented nature of the medium.
The history of comics is partly a history of the refinement of elliptic and
fragmented storytelling.
An extrinsic norm crucial to comics is the interpretation of a figure reappearing in
several panels as one and the same figure shown at different moments in time
(usually in chronological order). Still, an artist can subvert this convention: think
of the typical games with disguises, masks and doubles in detectives, or McCay's
experiments, Fred's multiplication of a single character.
Chronological order enables causal inference, the conclusion that something (an
event) causes something else (Sternberg, 1996: 498). The reader expects cause-
effect relations between successive events. Usually it is assumed that the event
represented in the second panel happens after the event represented in the first
one. In the first panel we see a character at work, complaining. In the second
panel the same character is shown walking to the right, probably in a different
room. He certainly stopped working. The caption ("I'm fed up. A nice hot bath is
what I need!") refers to his work and indicates it is done. Although we can not be
absolutely certain that this panel follows the first one chronologically (the second
panel could depict an earlier event) or that the location is still the same (the
house), we would expect deviations from these conventions to be clearly
indicated. We assume the comic respects the extrinsic norms of traditional
narration. Of course, there is a lot of trust involved in our acceptance of
conventions, and artists can play with such expectations. In Vaughn James' The
Cage there are, however, too few indications of time to be certain of any
chronological order and we can only guess at possible sequences. In that case the
traditional scripts - structured representation describing a stereotyped sequence
![Page 6: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/6.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
6/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
of events in a particular context - are of no use. There is no apparent actor in The
Cage, only buildings and objects in various situations. Since we can not
reassemble the chronological structure, causal inference is nearly impossible. The
comic urges us to adapt to a new situation and question our reading habits. It
forces us to look for parallels and rimes (Vidal, 1986: 190-193).
3. Case-study "De Familie Snoek": narrativeunderstandingRelying on basic skills and expectations, the average reader should not have any
serious problems in understanding what is going on. The images and the text give
us all the information needed. They show the most important actions in their
chronological order and with causal relations. Leonard returns to work each time
from sheer necessity, because there always is somebody using the bathroom. His
return to work, reinforcing the mounting tension, is almost the only possibility. He
is too dirty to sit on a sofa, and the gag would fail if he went to the kitchen and
relax with a glass of beer. Finally, Leonard is forced to find another solution
(boiling the water in a kettle), because the gas runs out
Since we know the different characters from previous stories, we can better
understand the underlying relations and we recognize the woman introduced in
panel 9 as Leonard's wife. From the successive frustrations we understand how
the tension is rising and why Leonard explodes emotionally in the penultimate
panel. It is not as much the objective problems (occupied bath, no gas), but the
growing determination - even obsession - of the character and the multiplying
obstacles which cue the humor.
The last panel only makes sense considering Leonard's strong determination to
take a bath with hot water. At the same time the use of the small sink as a
bathtub is ridiculous. However, any other solution would not have been funny; e.g.
Leonard boiling water in a kettle to fill the bathtub, or going out for gas. Moreover
those solutions would have taken more than one panel (or a lot of explaining
text). Using the sink is the humorous solution, demonstrating once more Leonard's
determination to have it his way.
Some of the schemata which help the reader understand this comic:
- The publication format and the caricatural style suggest a humorous content.
- The schema of a family, and more specific the schema of a middle class family
in Belgium at the end of the forties. With this background one can understand why
Leonard's wife complains and why he cares so much about what she says. It
would not make sense in another social context, where a man, in his own house,
giving in to his brother or his son (who is even poking fun at him), would be
unthinkable. Like his American equivalents of the family comic strips, Leonard is a
henpecked husband who can rarely cope with the situation. The use of this
formula is important and stresses the fact that those old roles had not altogether
disappeared in 1947. Familiarity with living conditions in Belgium in the forties
would allow even better understanding. Most families had no bathtub and still
washed themselves at the sink. In 1947 only 56% of the families had access to
the public water supply, and only 7% had a separate bathroom or shower
(Matthijs, 1988: 104). Such facilities generally belonged to the higher classes. Also
the use of an electric cooker is quite advanced for its Belgian context and time.
Although the Snoek family appears typical middle-class, they are in some aspects
quite progressive and modern. Working in his cellar, Snoek ressembles the
working class, but his house seems to belong in the (higher) middle class.
- The schema (script) of taking a bath, including a sequence of actions: heating
water (if there is no warm water), undressing, going in the water, rubbing with
water and soap, getting out of the water, drying the body with a towel. The fact
that, in the final panel, Leonard only partly conforms to the schema (script) of
taking a bath is funny. For instance, he does not actually wash himself, but just
![Page 7: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/7.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
7/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
sits in the sink, reinforcing the fact that, in spite of his attempts and creative mind,
it is no more than a ridiculous substitute, especially since he wants to act like it is
a bathtub. His position is humiliating; naked, neither covered by the tub, water,
nor any clothes. His expression of anger clearly shows how he feels about it, and
even the kettle is hissing loudly at this pitiable scene.
4. Nonnarrative aspectsTrying to understand a comic the reader can concentrate also on nonnarrative
aspects as the formal qualities of the comic. I am aware that disparate readers
may perceive quite disparate semantic and syntactic elements in the same comic,
since an unbiased and value-free approach is impossible. Signs can generate
more than one reading, because they are determined by a large number of
factors. Therefore they are called polysemic. As Nick Lacey (1998: 90)shows,
readers are at liberty to pick any reading of a text, as long as it can be justified
by that text.
Non-linear relations between the two halves of the page:
In our western culture readers are trained to read each page from left to right,
top to bottom. The arrangement of the panels on the page and the numbering of
each panel (in the upper left corner) are based on this orientation. However, we
do not simply read an ordered succession of isolated panels. Like a story, which is
more than a simple chain of consecutive events, the page as a whole (a typical
unit of a comic's conventional format) invites us to contemplate non-linear
relations between the panels. Aspects or parts of any panel can be linked to
similar aspects or parts of other panels (Baetens & Lefèvre, 1993: 72;
Groensteen, 1999: 173-174).
The formal organisation of the page is intriguing. It is divided in four tiers (strips)
of equal dimensions, and the arrangement of the panels is identical in both upper
tiers:
- The first panel shows Leonard working in the cellar. This panel has the same
position in both strips, as well as the same composition, point of view and framing,
and the character is depicted in a similar position at the same location.
- The second panel shows Leonard going to the bathroom. Again, this panel has
the same position, point of view and framing in both strips, and the character is
depicted in a similar "location" (on his way to the bathroom) and moving in the
same direction.
- The third panel shows Leonard in the bathroom, confronted with the occupied
bath, and again the panel has the same position, point of view and framing in both
strips, and the characters are placed on the same spot, in the same location.
(There is some "noise" as well; the length of the panels is not exactly the same
and the bathtub is drawn a little bit differently the second time around).
The organisation of the bottom half of the page is somewhat different, but still
partly refers to the upper half:
- The same 'orthogonal projection system' (Willats, 1997: 43) is used: all objects
are depicted perpendicular to the scene, never oblique or canted, the screen-tone
haloes are the same, ...
- The first panel of the third strip resembles that of the upper strips, with the same
position, point of view and framing. The character is even depicted in the same
location (although the stairs are not shown), but with a change of direction: his
head is still turned to the left side of the page, but his body is moving in the
opposite direction.
- The second panel of the third strip refers to the last panel of the upper strips,
with the same point of view and framing, and showing the same location. Only the
character's position has changed, from the side to the center and upside down
(flipped, literally and figuratively).
![Page 8: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/8.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
8/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
- The last strip with only two big panels contrasts to the other three strips with
three panels. Moreover, for the first time the reader could get the impression of a
split-panel (eg. the skirting board seems to continue), though there is a
suggestion of three gutters in between.
However, the last panels of the page (the last one of the third strip and the entire
fourth) are quite new and only refer to the previous ones in that the last two
feature the same character:
Halfway down the page there is a remarkable break in the structure introduced in
the first two strips. On the narrative level this formal break coincides with the end
of the repetitive part and with Leonard's decision not to return to the cellar
(obvious from the way he throws his hammer to the ground). This break is
stressed further in switching from three to two panels in the final strip.
There are also non-linear relations between background-elements. In panels 3, 6,
8 and 11, the sides of the tub in the bathroom and the wall above the sink in the
kitchen are decorated with similar tiles. In the first three panels they occupy the
lower left corner of the panel, in the last one they are placed in the upper right
corner (above the ground), and they are fewer in number. While the other
characters (or at least their heads) are placed above (or behind) the tiled
surfaces, Leonard is always positioned beside or in front of them, even in his tub
substitute. He can not hide: as opposed to the others, his whole body is visible
almost all the time. The similar tiles also act as a formal motivation of the
substitution of the kettle (on a small electric stove) for the gas-heater, and of the
small kitchen sink for the bathtub. Futhermore, while the tub has two taps (hot
and cold water), the sink only has a single tap (cold water only), stressing the
contrast between hot and cold, and the reduction of the tub.
5. ReferencesBAETENS, Jan & LEFEVRE, Pascal. 1993. Pour une lecture moderne de la bande
dessinée. Bruxelles: Centre Belge de la Bande Dessinée.
BAL, Mieke. 1997. Narratology Introduction to the Theory of Narrative. Second
Edition, University of Toronto Press.
BORDWELL, David. 1985. Narration in the Fiction Film. London: Methuen.
BORDWELL, David, & THOMPSON, Kristin. 1986. Film Art, An Introduction, Second
Edition. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
FLUDERNIK, Monika. 1996. Towards a 'Natural' Narratology. London: Routledge.
GRODAL, Torben. 1997. Moving Pictures, A New Theory of Film Genres, Feelings,
and Cognition. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
GROENSTEEN, Thierry. 1988. "La narration comme supplément." In: Groensteen,
Thierry (ed.). 1988. Bande Dessinée, Récit et Modernité. Paris: Futuropolis &
CNBDI. pp. 45-69.
GROENSTEEN, Thierry. 1999. Système de la bande dessinée. Paris: PUF.
HABERLANDT, Karl. 1994. Cognitive Psychology. Boston: Allyn and Bacon.
HERMAN, David. 1997. "Scripts, Sequences, and Stories: Elements of a
Postclassical Narratology." In: PMLA, vol. 112, number 5, october 1997, p. 1046-
1059.
LACEY, Nick. 1998. Image and Representation, Key Concepts in Media Studies.
New York: St. Martin's Press.
LEFEVRE, Pascal. 1999. "Recovering Sensuality in Comic Theory". In:
International Journal of Comic Art. Vol. 1, No. 1, Spring/Summer 1999.
MATTHIJS, Koen. 1988. Belgoscope, De Belgen, de Vlamingen en de Walen. Wie
ze zijn. Waar ze wonen en hoe ze leven. Tielt: Lannoo/De Financieel Ekonomische
Tijd.
![Page 9: Narration in Comics by Pascal Lefèvre](https://reader036.vdocuments.us/reader036/viewer/2022081908/55cf9363550346f57b9d69c5/html5/thumbnails/9.jpg)
12/10/12 Narration in Comics by Pascal Lef èv re
9/9www.imageandnarrativ e.be/inarchiv e/narratology /pascallef ev re.htm
REID, Ian. 1992. Narrative exchanges. London: Routledge.
STERNBERG, Robert J. 1996. Cognitive Psychology. Forth Worth: Harcourt Brace
College Publishers.
VIDAL, Jean-Pierre. 1982. "La capture de l'imaginaire." In: VAUGHN-JAMES,
Martin. 1982. La Cage. Paris: Impressions Nouvelles, p. 185-199.
WILLATS, John. 1997. Art and Representation. New Principles in the Analysis of
Pictures. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press
Comics mentionedMCCAY, Winsor. 1903. "Saved". In: Life. November 5, 1903.
VANDERSTEEN, Willy. 1947. De familie Snoek. In: De Nieuwe Standaard. April
19th , 1947.
VAUGHN-JAMES, Martin. 1975. The Cage. Toronto: The Coach House Press.
This s ite is optimized for Netscape 6 and higher
site design: Sara Roegiers @ Maerlantcentrum