Little Vampire, Vol. 1

by Joann Sfar. First Second, publisher. $13.95

Such abundant pleasures: of drawing, of yarn-spinning, of improvisatory risk-taking, graphic exploration and sheer exuberant gutsiness. Such joy. In brief, that's how I see Little Vampire, Vol. 1, newly published by First Second, which collects translations of three Petit Vampire tales by that most prolific and wayward of French dessinateurs, Joann Sfar.

Some readers may be put off by assumptions about the simplicity or naivete of what are said to be "children's comics" (from my POV, an important genre newly re-emergent in the US but thus far characterized more by hopefulness than by achievement). Don't be misled. Little Vampire is terrific comics, period. It goes far beyond what the broad outline of its premise led me to expect.

Said premise has become rather too familiar, the sort of mashup of Gothic horror and children's fantasy seen in, for instance, Scary Godmother, Lenore, and even some works bearing the same title as "Little Vampire," most obviously Angela Sommer-Bodenburg's long-lived book series Der kleine Vampir (1979- ) and its adaptations, among them a feature film (2000). In the wake of Tim Burton such stuff has become even harder to miss, and, in general, I find this vein of Baby Gothic bloodless (sorry!) and tiresome. Too many projects of this nature strive for either a softly padded, too-comfortably settled, too-obviously reassuring pabulum or, on the other hand, a twee irony, a diluted, Edward Gorey-esque faux-macabre distancing from anything emotionally engaging. Either way it's denatured Gothic, predigested and fizz-less. Admittedly, Sfar's Little Vampire would seem to be in the same groove, concept-wise: it's about a little vampire, called Little Vampire, his cohort of undead and monstrous friends, the haunted house they inhabit, and a human boy, Michael, who visits the house and becomes Little Vampire's best friend. This is very well-trodden territory. But Sfar does unexpectedly personal, and wonderful, things with it.

This is not the first American readers have seen of Sfar's little vampire. The book's first two tales, Little Vampire Goes to School and Little Vampire Does Kung Fu!, have already been translated for the US market by Simon & Schuster (2003), each tale in its own edition. Little Vampire, Vol. 1 supersedes those earlier editions. That those books appeared at Simon & Schuster was due to Mark Siegel, now First Second's Editorial Director, who used to work as a designer at S&S and championed Sfar there. Of course Siegel continues to champion Sfar at First Second, with such titles as Vampire Loves (neither sequel nor prequel, exactly, but related to Little Vampire), Klezmer, The Professor's Daughter and the Sardine series, the latter two being collaborations between Sfar and Emmanuel Guibert. Along with Pantheon (publishers of Sfar's Rabbi's Cat series) and NBM (publishers of the Donjon / Dungeon series by Sfar and Lewis Trondheim et al.), First Second has done the work of introducing American readers to at least a few facets of the artist's hectically overflowing oeuvre.

Sfar is well-served by this new edition. Of course it's gorgeously, atmospherically, colored by frequent Sfar collaborator Walter. It's also attractively designed, with a minimum of fuss, by First Second's resident design ace Danica Novgorodoff, and smartly, gracefully, translated by First Second's prolific translators Alexis Siegel (Mark's brother) and Edward Gauvin (who translated another new First Second book we reviewed a few weeks back, Cyril Pedrosa's Three Shadows, though we forgot to credit him). What all this adds up to is a class act.

As a package, Little Vampire, Vol. 1 represents a welcome departure for First Second. The book is a 96-page softcover that comes, not in First Second's usual 6 x 8ish size, but in 8 x 10ish format, a step closer to Europe's predominant BD album form. This is a smart move, because Sfar's work is brim-full of beautiful, squirrelly little details, and because, even at a larger size, Sfar's use of minute word balloons can sometimes be a challenge to a restless reader's eye. Some comics simply need room to breathe. I have to admit that the NBM editions of Dungeon are too small for my comfort (the artwork is cruelly reduced); likewise, I'd say that some prior First Second editions of European work, for example the Trondheim and Fabrice Parme Tiny Tyrant, have gone too far in the direction of favoring a convenient, hand-size format over readability. Little Vampire, Vol. 1 strikes a wise balance, granting plenty of room for the layouts (it's not unusual for Sfar to fit between nine and twelve panels on a page) while keeping to an affordable soft-bound format.

More than anything, though, it's Sfar's sensibility that sets Little Vampire apart. He has, clearly, a reckless, bounding imagination, a penchant for following whatever threads of thought and incident just happen to occur to him in the midst of storytelling. First Second refers to this as Sfar's "rambling brand of storytelling," but I think it's more accurate to say that Sfar is responsive and fast on his feet: he finds things out as he goes, and he's unafraid to let core conflicts change and develop as his stories progress. All the same, though, his work is not shapeless; he knows how to work his way toward, or back toward, a satisfying resolution, eventually. It's just that the progression of his plots is unpredictable: instead of following a single established conflict from A to Z, Sfar caroms from A to B, then B to C, C to D, and so on, with an exploratory eagerness. I noticed this in The Rabbi's Cat, probably my first exposure to Sfar: the later chapters seemed to move far beyond the initial setup (both thematically and graphically). It happens in Little Vampire as well, without, perhaps, the philosophical weight of Rabbi's Cat, but with the same energy.

The plot of "Little Vampire Does Kung Fu!", for example, starts simply enough, with the idea that Michael wants to get back at (or learn to defend himself against) a school bully, and that Little Vampire comes to his aid. The title is a misnomer: it's Michael, not Little Vampire, who must learn to do kung fu. Little Vampire therefore takes Michael to learn from a "kung fu master": so far, so good. But the kung fu master turns to be a Rabbi, Solomon, who lives inside a painting in Little Vampire's haunted house (click that thumbnail!):

Rabbi Solomon tricks Michael into boxing a dragon. Thanks to this, Michael is persuaded that he really knows how to fight, but then... well, Little Vampire's cohort of monster friends do something unexpected to the bully, and the rest of the story consists of trying to make things right, which involves a multicultural gaggle of "sorcerers," a dancing tree, and dialogue like this:

Wow. Arguments, spells, and transformations carry this story toward a ridiculous climax, but Sfar, finally, brings it all back home with a wry, understated conclusion that neither condones or condemns fighting. Until then, the arc of the story is a crazed, looping, bouncing dotted line that refuses to stop for a breath. It's not just restlessness that Sfar shows in stories like these; it's impatience with formula, a desire to dig for depth, and trust in himself, his material, and his audience. So many people love to toss around platitudes about how children are "naturally" curious and eager for experience, but Little Vampire is that rare example, a children's story that actually embodies (and encourages) those qualities.

Besides this questing sensibility, Little Vampire offers the undiluted pleasure of Sfar's graphical world-building, which arises out of his intimate, calligraphic way of drawing: gloriously inconsistent, sometimes loose and scratchy, sometimes sumptuous, but always bespeaking a certain immediacy. This is narrative drawing at its best, quirky, raw but fluent, and full of feeling. Sfar's story-world seems to have been shaped, and particular twists in the stories prompted, by the unfolding possibilities of drawing itself; he enacts a process of spontaneous invention, discovery, and entailment well described by Edmond Baudoin:

The drawing leads me [...]. The signs I trace on the paper are sending me messages. I need to respond by drawing other signs.

Panel layouts, though seldom decorative, are fluid (Sfar never repeats himself). The panel borders are handmade and unruly, rather like the word balloons. Settings are thick with odd details, and often ravishingly pretty. The secondary characters, such as Phantomato (Little Vampire's blood-red dog), Pandora (Little Vampire's mother), and the Captain of the Dead (who in fact is the Flying Dutchman), are deftly sketched, credible, and yet allowed to retain their mysteriousness. The Captain in particular has gravity, and may even be scary, though he is always on the children's side (click):

This feeling of depth / depth of feeling stems partly from Sfar's writing, of course, but it also stems, surely, from his desire to provide us with a world worth looking at, over and over. That world, because it does not render up all its secrets, invites our curious gazing.

Perhaps best of all is Sfar's emotional honesty about childhood and his willingness to treat ethical issues in a bracingly straightforward way. Anger and romance and thwarted desire and faith are parts of even Sfar's children's stories, and there's precious little in the way of condescension here. Michael's parents are dead and gone; he discusses this openly, neither tiptoeing around the subject nor dwelling on it. At one point he discusses theology with the Captain; though he is Jewish (as is Sfar), he declares that he doesn't believe in God. Besides, Michael says, even if God exists, he doesn't feel like he "owes" God anything, "after what he did to me." Later Michael discusses the ethics of violence with his grandfather, and plainly admits that he wants to "kill" the bullies that humiliated him at school. His grandfather of course balks at this, but Michael's questions lead to a discussion about his grandfather's service in the War, and about the use of violence in self-defense (click!):

Little Vampire, Vol. 1 has many disarming moments like this, yet there's nothing preachy about it. Sfar seems to trust his readers, however young, to wrestle with ethical questions. He also knows when to knock moral pontification off its high horse. Besides the sheer pleasures of its imagery and stories, then, the book indulges in some welcome questioning of the adult sanctimony that too often stunts children's books. On more than one level, Little Vampire is a great children's book and a great comic.

(A complimentary review copy of this book was provided by First Second.)

Comments

[Katherine F.]

Great review! Just a point of information: according to the French edition, Vampire Loves (or Grand Vampire in the original) is technically a prequel to Little Vampire. Big Vampire wanted to experience childhood and had himself magically reduced to the form of a child. I haven't read any of the Grand Vampire books, so I don't know if that makes any sense psychologically.

I have to say, I generally prefer reading the French originals of these books, because, as you say, the English-language editions tend to be squashed down. Sometimes it doesn't matter much, but Petit Vampire is so rich and detailed that it seems a pity to lose a thing. (Not to mention the lettering is inevitably changed, and French comics have seriously wonderful lettering. I think French schools emphasise handwriting more than elsewhere, which results in gloriously clear and characterful hand-lettering in French comics.)

[David]

I think the Grand Vampire (Vampire Loves) "prequel" thing is more of a joke than anything else. You're certainly not missing anything if you read this series first. But Grand Vampire is among his best work, so it's worth reading anyway.

[Ben Towle]

"...what are said to be "children's comics" (from my POV, an important genre newly re-emergent in the US..."

Children's books are obviously your area of expertise, not mine... but, I'm curious about this statement. Do you genuinely think this is a re-emergent type of kid's book? I'm a new dad, and consequently MY parents have been sending me the children's books I read when I was a kid and I'm amazed at how many of them are comics (or comics-like enough for anyone other than maybe Scott McCloud). I've been wondering if there's really a resurgence of kid's comics, or whether maybe what's really the case is just that people who have been making potentially kid-friendly comics for the direct market have suddenly realized that there's a whole 'nother market out there for their work... and likewise that perhaps publishers of kid's books have realized that there's a big talent pool out there of cartoonists who've been toiling away trying to sell Fone Bone to guys who'd really rather be reading The X-Men.

Thoughts?

[CharlesWHatfield]

"I've been wondering if there's really a resurgence of kid's comics..."

Good question, Ben, thanks. Briefly, yes, I think we ARE seeing a resurgence in children's comics, in three senses:

1. Publishers are interested. I mean not only comic specialty publishers, but also, and perhaps for the first time, a number of children's book publishers. Witness Scholastic's Graphix line, the new TOON Books project, etc. The fact that publishers think something is afoot is a sure sign that something IS afoot (that's something in the nature of self-fulfilling prophecy, yes?). Publishers are packaging and re-packaging a lot of work "for" children right now.

2. Creators are interested, and, for the first time in a long time, a significant alternative exists to the too-narrowly focused direct market. There are quite a few cartoonists out there who are mixing work "for adults" with work "for children," and some who might be content to continue working "for children" for a long time.

3. Librarians and educators are interested, in unprecedented numbers. This is resulting in some interesting, and at times inadvertently ironic, new forms of attention to comics, indeed to a spirit of boosterism in heretofore unexpected quarters. Children's literature and culture scholars are also newly interested.

I take your point, that lot of things that might qualify as comics have been published in children's books, often without anyone officially invoking the term "comics" to explain them. A lot of stuff happens without being noticed by the gatekeepers of children's culture. But when the gatekeepers do notice, that's important. Labeling is important. So are institutional efforts to notice and support things like comics.

It's in that institutional sense that "children's comics" are making significant gains right now. I remind myself every so often that genres are socially (as well as aesthetically) founded, and that, therefore, changes in social reception are changes in the genre. In a very real way, because children's comics are now being recognized as such within the boundaries of children's literature, we might say that the "children's comics" genre is just now being willed into existence. I say this with reference to the USAmerican scene, of course; we may be tardy in this respect.

In institutional terms -- among publishers, librarians, and educators -- children's comics can now make claims that couldn't be made previously. Even though the roots of this are partly in the direct market (witness BONE, for example), the emerging children's comics paradigm has little to do with the direct market and everything to new with new markets. That's not only a resurgence, it's a re-directing. Paging TOON Books, subject of a forthcoming TB post! :)

Oh, and allow me to plug here my review essay, "Comic Art, Children's Literature, and the New Comic Studies," from THE LION AND THE UNICORN 30.3 (Sept. 2006), as well as my introduction to the special ImageTexT issue on "Comics and Childhood," at: http://www.english.ufl.edu/imagetext/archives/v3_3/introduction.shtml

[jeffk]

I can't thank you guys enough for bringing Sfar to my attention. I got back into comics about a year and a half ago, and I'm still very much in the discovery phase. This post got me to pick up Little Vampire, which led me to Vampire Loves and the first two Dungeon books (the Rabbi's Cat is next, and there's more Dungeon on the way). This new breed of "all-ages" comics is really inspiring for me as an adult - it's the kind of work I'd like to create, if only I were that creative.

[CharlesWHatfield]

Thanks for the good words, Jeff! Glad that we've been a signpost, of sorts. :)

Man, oh man, am I looking forward to finally digging into Rabbi's Cat Vol. 2. Especially after doing the Little Vampire review, which got me going back to the bookshelf for what few Sfar books I actually own (note to self: too few). He has leapfrogged into my list of favorite cartoonists lately, and the beauty of this is that there are still a few translated English volumes I haven't read.

At the moment, I'm trying to translate for myself, just for the challenge and the fun, a volume in Sfar and Emmanuel Guibert's LES OLIVES NOIRES.