Broken Frontier

Tomorrow sees the release of Dan Schaffer’s graphic novel The Scribbler through Image Comics.  Schaffer stopped by to discuss its themes, origins, and what type of impact he hopes to have.

BROKEN FRONTIER: First, you have had some work put out—most notably Indigo Vertigo and Dogwitch—but I don't think it's a stretch to say that you are a bit of an unknown to the mainstream comic audience.  So, as long winded as that was, perhaps we should start with a short self-introduction, perhaps a little about your comic influences, and how you would define your particular style.

DAN SCHAFFER: That's a tough place to start. I try to leave the defining to other people. I guess I switch art and writing styles quite frequently to suit the themes in whatever story I'm working on. I haven't got a system I apply to the work or anything like that. I just grow along with the project and do whatever's necessary. I'm sure that if you stand far enough away from all of it you can probably see a signature style. The particular themes I work with are certainly consistent. My influences come from all angles: film, music, psychology textbooks. I don't collect many comics but I'll read Warren Ellis, and I pretty much taught myself to draw copying Brian Bolland's art.

I'm a big Dave McKean fan, too. Throw in David Lynch, Shinya Tsukamoto, and a bunch of iffy horror movies, then maybe that's my style, homogenized.

BF: This story of The Scribbler is that of Suki, who has split-personality disorder.  What was it about this particular persona that you felt was ripe for a good comic book story?

DS: Seemed like a character with disassociative disorder would be able to carry the themes of identity (social, moral, and actual) in a compelling and honest way compared to a character who's sure of herself and knows exactly who she is and what she wants. I like people who are pliable, who re-evaluate the rules on a daily basis. Disassociative people don't always view the world through the same eyes from one day to the next, and I find that interesting because I like looking at the same thing from different angles.

BF: What to you is the stronger part of the creation—your dialogue or artwork?  Which aspect did you feel this particular story best highlighted?

DS: The writing and art aren't really two separate things to me. I kind of live on the fence and have to let one balance the other so I don't fall off. It can feel like herding sheep sometimes. You chase the writing towards the art, then run around the other side and chase it back again.

BF: What about the decision to use black and white and not color it?  Was that a financial decision or do you feel the story works better in these tones?

DS: I guess I go against convention there. Most people would say working in black and white was a bit backward, but I love black and white art. Not just photography, but painting, design, and film. When Tim Burton was making Ed Wood he said that he knew the decision to shoot it in black and white instantly lost him half his audience but he did it anyway because it was right for the film. I can understand that. Burton can afford it, of course. I probably can't. I started working on something recently that's in color, if only to prove that I'm not actually color blind.

BF: In order to eliminate her multiple personalities, Suki is connected to a machine called Siamese Burn that "destroys" the other personalities.  How did you come up with the idea for a machine like this?

DS: I'm an individualist, I suppose. I see a lot of interesting and imaginative people being reduced to a series of ticks and crosses in their everyday working lives by uninteresting and unimaginative people. Corporate drones with a hive mind mentality. There are probably lots of benefits to having a business running like a well-oiled machine, but the side-effect of that is the destruction of individuality. And that slowly becomes the criminalization of individuality. Individual technique isn't allowed to develop anywhere because everyone has to do the job the same way to get the right amount of ticks in the right boxes.

The Siamese Burn idea came from the question, what if someone invented a machine that could make you act just like everybody else—how would you react to it? The optimistic answer is, our individuality would rise to the challenge and fight back—it would tweak the machine for its own ends and use it against its creators. Maybe I'm hoping that's what will happen in the real world, that the more our imaginations are limited, the more imaginative we'll become.

BF: The one personality that does not seem to be willing to leave is that of The Scribbler.  Without giving anything away, what is it about this particular personality that made it seem so worthwhile to you? Were there any other "voices" that you didn't really want to eliminate?

DS: I've used scribbling and scribbles as a metaphor for subconscious desires and penned creativity before, in Indigo Vertigo. It stems from my own tendency to scribble on stuff unconsciously. It's a quirk. As a symbolic cog in a story, I think it's quite fascinating because so many people understand it in different ways, but still seem to respond to the underlying tension that it represents.

The other voices in Suki's head are not so much aspects of her personality, but personifications of her skills as an individual. She calls them, "mostly rude arseholes" but we can tell that she really loves them. At one point she mentions that she's lost her ability to play video games well, so she knows that her "cure" is actually killing parts of her.

The Scribbler represents something deeper. Not a single personality trait, but more of an underlying force of nature. It's where all Suki's creativity resides. The more traits and skills they burn out of her, the bigger The Scribblergets.

BF: The story itself is built around the idea of treating the insane. Was this an attempt on your part to make any statements about the mentally ill and mental health treatments or just a good story idea?

DS: I'm not making any statements about the mentally ill as a bunch of people. I'm just talking about our perception of what mental illness actually is, and how that can be manipulated by propaganda to give us a false understanding of what we consider to be acceptable mental health. To me, the people trying to make everyone into machine cogs who only turn at right angles are the mental ones.

BF: You've stated that The Scribbler is somewhat like a superhero book "in the negative." Now, while there are no typical superheroes in the book at all, it seems like you are using this book to make a statement about superheroes.  How much thought did you put into crafting these characters and conflicts to mirror those stereotypically known for superheroes?  Is there any that you are particularly proud of?  Was there any archetype that you really wanted to use but could not figure a way to make it fit?

DS: No, none of that stuff. There are a million ways to make the characters in a story iconic enough to carry the themes and ideas, and I find that superheroes push that to the blatantly obvious extreme. Not that there aren't brilliantly written, masterpieces of superhero fiction out there, I just find it hard to care because my personal view is that superheroes are generally too loud, take up too much room, and prevent comic books from evolving as an art form.

One of the themes in The Scribbler explores how and why we create loud and showy archetypes to follow instead of paying attention to the smaller details and working it out for ourselves. While I was chasing down a dramatic angle on that, the story started to drift into superhero territory. I fought it for a long time but eventually I just had to be honest about it and let the book do its own thing.

The mirroring you mentioned happened on its own. You could re-write The Scribbler with capes and big explosions, and color it in; you wouldn't be too far from a superhero origin story. It's why I said it was like a superhero book but in reverse. It's like a view from the other side of the mirror.   

BF: A lot of the press for this book has hyped a certain search for knowledge of self and why we doubt ourselves.  Was it important for you to craft a tale with such overarching and universal themes?  Do you see this as an individual adventure or more of a universal theme? And does using the mentally insane as the guides for the tale make any statement about who we are as individuals and a society?

DS: I'm a strong believer in the importance of thematic resonance in any dramatic work. You take that out and the rest dies like you've ripped its heart out. Any theme is just the unification of ideas into a coherent form that can be understood on a fundamental level, or multiple levels, by anyone who encounters it. Sometimes that final form says something important about society and culture, other times it just says something about the story.

I'm not sure if it's for me to say how well my themes do either of those. I do know that I specifically set out to challenge certain notions of good and evil. I definitely had something I wanted to say about that. But, like the song says, "any man with a microphone can tell you what he loves the most" or however it goes. I try to throw ideas around that I think are vaguely intelligent and hope that I'm not too badly misunderstood, but as long as these things all lead to a satisfying reading experience, that's probably all that matters.

BF: Who was your favorite character to write?  Who was your favorite to draw?

DS: Hogan was probably the most fun character, but they were all quite tough to write. Hogan's a slob who bucks the system shamelessly, yet still retains a certain degree of charm. Suki, our protagonist, is certainly no angel and some of her actions are questionable, but we're supposed to be on her side throughout. The point was to stay away from the black and white ideas of good and evil. These people are all real and heroic in the same everyday ways that we all are. And they're just as flawed. Everyone's the bad guy from someone's point of view, right?

BF:  Finally, any last teases for the book?  Any topic of theme that you think should really stand out to readers? 

DS: There's a fine line between selling yourself and acting like an egomaniac. Like I'm always saying, the people who shout the loudest don't necessarily have anything better to say than the quiet ones, and I don't want to tell anyone how to understand this book. The themes are there if you're interested in them, but I don't mind if you ignore them and read it as a straightforward thriller or horror book. There's a secret message hidden in the pages, but you don't have to look for it. If you just want to sit back and enjoy watching these characters physically manifest their IDs and float around in the air doing weird stuff, that's okay with me too.