Art Spiegelman, Rebelious Writer

Art Spiegelman: Rebellious Writer

A vintage style passenger train, rolling down a snow-speckled mountainside opens the sequence on page 258. The full width of the page is used, and from the caption we learn that this is the (surprisingly posh) train that Vladek took from Dachau to Switzerland, when he was released from the camp. The angle of the train tracks mimics the angle of the road in the next frame; by using similar perspectives, it’s easier to notice the transition from Vladek’s past and Art’s more recent past. Art, Vladek and Anja travel in a white car down a black road surrounded by leafy bushes. The bird’s eye view gives the effect of eavesdropping on the passengers as Art asks about the French man Vladek had told him about just a few pages earlier. Vladek responds vaguely here, but when Vladek mentions, “I can’t remember even his name, but in Paris he is living… For years we exchanged letters in the English I taught to him,” (258) the perspective shifts to a tight close up of the two of them sitting in the front seat, with Franзoise driving. Art sits up to face Vladek here, while Franзoise looks straight ahead. We see them from the back seat. The sun pouring in through the front window creates a dark shadow over Art and Vladek’s clothing. The faces are the only white part of frame, which draws our focus into their conversation.

The frame closes in a little tighter and Art’s eyebrows are raised as he probes, “Well…did you save any of his letters?” (258) Vladek’s shoulders slump and his eyes widen with sadness as he tells Art that the letters were thrown out with Anja’s notebooks. The perspective switches to face the three from the front. “All such things of the war, I tried to put out from my mind once an for all… until you rebuild me all this from your questions,” (258) Vladek tells Art. Vladek looks his oldest in this frame; his head hangs low, his eyes are round and framed by wide eyebrows. His old fashioned glasses barely rest on his face, and there is either a tear or a deep wrinkle jut under his eye; he looks sad and ashamed here, but his comment deflects his emotion onto Artie. Art’s hands drop to his sides and he sits back, closer to Franзoise. The angle makes Vladek appear bigger than Art and Franзoise and his body language isolates him from the young couple, even though they sit on the same seat.

The perspective switches to another aerial view of the car as Franзoise stops to pick up a hitch-hiker. Written on the side of the frame, the word, “SKREEEEEK!” (258) marks the abrupt stop of the car, but also the abrupt end to Vladek’s sensitivity. After he shouts at Franзoise for stopping the car; someone calmly says, “There’s a hitch-hiker,” (258). The hitch-hiker, appears in the next frame galumphing toward the car, a suitcase in hand and dressed in polka dots, suspenders, and a cap. A friendly, “Hiya,” (258) gives his introduction, and it is clear that this man is not threatening at all. Vladek though, leans out the car window to yell at Franзoise, “Oy-it’s a colored guy, a shvartser! Push quick on the gas!” (258). Oddly, the man ignores Vladek’s comment, and continues forward un-phased. Thus ends the portion of the text I will be examining.

Art Spiegelman has lived with the effects of the Holocaust for his entire life. When it came time for him to create Maus, he chose an unusual approach to tell his story. While his repertoire made the graphic style a natural choice, his portrayal of the characters, his organization of the storylines and his inclusion of himself in his piece shows a deep rhetorical strategy. Art Spiegelman noticed people’s tendency to believe in documentaries and historical representations as truthful and accurate. This essay will draw examples from this passage to prove that Spiegelman’s rhetorical strategy is to cause his reader to question Vladek’s testimony, by presenting contradictions in his claims, the lack of proof to support his claims, his irrationality, and the influence his relationship with Artie has on his representations of memories.

Spiegelman presents a major problem with Vladek’s claims, by pointing out that Vladek changes his story. When Art asks Vladek about the French man who helped him, Vladek takes credit for teaching the man English. When the Frenchman is originally introduced to the reader however, the two men became friends because they both already spoke English. While it looks as though Art doesn’t notice this discrepancy, he may be in fact choosing to ignore it. Is Art so accustomed to Vladek’s unreliability that he has given up on getting his story straight?

For Spiegelman to show that Vladek is changing his story by claiming to have taught his friend English, makes me wonder about other stories from his past. Was he really such a ladies man, as depicted in The Sheik (15)?