I was surprised to read in "Seeing the Screen: Research Into Visual and Digital Writing Practices," by Anne Wysocki in the Handbook of Research on Writing, that visual literacies are historically associated with the working class and are hence looked down upon. Wysocki states, "Writing studies research into the visual aspects of texts is shaped by a continuing belief that the interpretation of words, unadorned and unaccompanied by illustrations, is what produces the steadily rational being we often believe we ought to be" (p. 600). These ideas stem from the fact that 19th century publications for the working class contained more illustrations than those produced for a more educated audience.
This got me to thinking about the reading practices in my own home. It's not unusual to see my husband stretched out on the couch reading a 1000+ page Stephen King novel, like Under the Dome, while I read Diary of a Wimpy Kid, a journal-comic-narrative, on the other side of the room. I kee
p telling my husband he should give Wimpy Kid a chance, but he's turned off by the simple illustrations which accompany every page.
p telling my husband he should give Wimpy Kid a chance, but he's turned off by the simple illustrations which accompany every page. I personally love the Wimpy Kid series. If you've ever read it, you know the illustrations reinforce the "journal"content, provide additional details not included in the written portion of the book, and also foreshadow predictions of the main character, Greg Heffley. The visuals and text work together--one does not replace the other. A full understanding of the book is not possible without engaging with both the written and visual elements.
So is the Wimpy Kid series wimpy reading? I think that depends on your purpose. As a full-time doctoral student studying education, I find Wimpy Kid augments the theoretical readings I do in The Handbook of Research on Writing and the seven pound (yes, I did weigh it!) Handbook of Research on Teaching. While the handbooks help me think about the decisions I make as a teacher, at the end of the day, I'm looking for texts I can share with adolescent readers, and Wimpy Kid fits that category.
Maybe my husband thinks I'm procrastinating when I spend two hours reading a pseudo-comic book instead of something more scholarly, but I see it as an opportunity to apply theory about teaching while working on some preliminary lesson plans.
I, too, loved the subtle humor in this book. So many teachers I've spoken with say the same of their students. Diary of a Wimpy Kid gets them hooked on reading.
ReplyDeleteI also think graphic novels get a bad rap (see my last post...our posts eerily mirror one another's), but I thought American Born Chinese was an exceedingly complex read - even more so than Maus, which I have used with seniors in a social studies class based on Facing History, Facing Ourselves.
My daughter can't keep her hands off Persepolis and it is so wildly inappropriate for children. We fight each time she finds it and wants to look at the pictures. Honestly, most graphic novels I've read are hardly appropriate for an audience younger than middle school.
I would argue reading multigenre texts requires a different skill set - one that mirrors digital literacies more closely. I am also adding "The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet" and "Hugo Cabret" to my reading list. Would love to hear your thoughts on those!
Your post was a delight to read, Katie! I really appreciate your point about finding ways to bridge the gap between what we read in scholarly discourse to texts that, as you put it, we "can share with adolescent readers", children, and even adults. This is such an important step, which I admit I sometimes forget to do. Your post reminded me that even though we are doc. students it is so important for us to make connections between the who-said-what-and-when scholarly commentary and illustrative examples. Maybe it's just me but the scholarly works I appreciate most are often written by individuals who really grasp the idea of building connections, for example Maxine Greene and bell hooks. These ladies create such astounding connections between works of literature with their scholarly written words.
ReplyDeleteIn addition, I am a HUGE fan of your discussion about the interactive nature between the written word and the visual image. I sat here nodding my head in agreement when you said "a full understanding of the book is not possible without engaging with both the written and visual elements." The images are indeed important to the event of comprehension. They enhance the text and open up a world of semiotic possibilities that an individual mode by itself might otherwise not possess. My art background brings to mind similar examples were the word and image co-create meaning, for example, Rene Magritte painting where an image of a pipe is juxtaposed with the phrase "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" ("This is not a pipe") and the work of conceptual artist Joseph Kosuth “One and Three Chairs” where he displayed three forms of a chair side-by-side: a written definition of a chair, an actual physical object of a chair, and a photograph of chair.
However, with respect to this point about images and words both being needed for meaning too some degree I question that truth. I sometimes wonder how using an image(s) with a word(s) or word(s) with image(s) might constraint the readers’ interpretation of a text. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but let me use an example to better illustrate my point. When I was teaching art classes, I would often do an exercise where project an image on the wall, for the sake of this example let’s say I projected a painting. The students and I then look at the painting and have a great conversation about what we see going on in that work, how we feel when looking at the work, what are the possible meanings of the work, and so on. At some point in the conversation I transition by writing or telling the students the title of the painting, and then, we talk about how the words influence our understanding of the painting. It was always amazing to see how written words can shape and constrain interpretive stances. Words can be very powerful things.