Jack Jackson and the return to print of his 1979 work, Comanche Moon, are the focus for the second week in SBC’s three-week (three-interview) Reed Graphica coverage. (Click here for the week one/part one with Reed Graphica’s consulting editor Calvin Reid). As detailed at the Reed Graphica site, Jackson “is one of the original figures of the American underground comics movement of the 1960s. Unlike his peers, whose comics celebrated the counterculture, Jackson instead created lively, detailed and historically accurate works that chronicle the bloody, fascinating history around the founding of Texas.” Jackson’s Comanche Moon is “the extraordinary story of Cynthia Ann Parker, a white settler child kidnapped by a band of Comanche Indians in 1836 in Texas. Brought up as a Comanche, she became the wife of a feared Comanche warrior and gave birth to Quanah, a warrior-son who became chief of the Comanches and eventually led them in their last great battles against the relentlessly encroaching white settlers. This is the story of their defeat and the end of the Comanche Nation's dominance of the Texas plains.”
Tim O’Shea: Given that Comanche Moon is a work you created back in 1979, were there any elements of the tale you were tempted to rework before its reissue?
Jack Jackson: No changes needed. I did my research for the story pretty extensively, and nothing has been published on Quanah, his mother, or the Comanches since that time that adds anything new or required revision.
TO: Do you consider yourself more of a historian or a storyteller? How hard is it to strike a balance between maintaining close to complete historical accuracy, while at the same time providing an engaging story that doesn't get bogged down in historical minutiae?
JJ: A historian--if worth his/her salt--must be a storyteller. The only difference in working in the graphics medium is that you must convey complex ideas in as few words as possible. But having visuals along with the words allows you to express these ideas much more effectively than with words alone. This is why I do so much research for my "picture stories." The art establishes a reality link to another era--sort of a time machine for the reader. Striking a balance between historical accuracy and an engaging story is not too difficult, provided the time period is not too extensive.
TO: Do you have a number of additional historical Texas tales you'd like to tell? What is it about Texas' rich history that holds your interest still after all these years?
JJ: Texas history is chock full of interesting characters! The problem--as I learned after doing my book on the Alamo--is that many people prefer the myth to the truth. This was the case with the Daughters of the Republic of Texas who run the Alamo. They won't sell my book in their gift shop because I show the Big Three (Crockett, Bowie, and Travis) as real people, with some "flaws" instead of as heroic Gods. Never mind what the historical record says about their conduct when you're up against a Theme Park mentality.
TO: Looking back, are there other out-of-print books of yours that you'd like to see get a similar reissue treatment?
JJ: Yeah, I'd like to see my Los Tejanos back in print. In many ways I consider it my best book, especially artwise. It also broke new ground contentwise, as the story of the Texas Mexicans was unknown to most readers. Thus I faced a real challenge in telling the story accurately while keeping it moving along and not bogging down. I guess I succeeded somewhat, as many Hispanics have complimented me on the book.
TO: Not every graphic novelist can claim lifetime membership in the Texas State Historical Association. How did that recognition come about? On a related note, would you agree that your work typically receives far more review coverage in scholarly journals than in the standard comics industry publications? If my assumption is correct, why do you think the comics press fails to give substantial coverage to academic/historical graphic novels like yours?
JJ: The Lifetime Fellow of the TSHA came about mostly because of my first scholarly press book in 1986, Los Mesteños: Spanish Ranching in Texas. I was a nobody--a lowly cartoonist--but this book won every award given. So I was able to crack the catch-22 of academic publication, which says you can't get published till you've been published or unless you have a PhD, etc. Even with this success, the scholarly world regards my history comics as beneath their dignity, no doubt because "comics" in general have such a low-brow appeal. Likewise, I'm an oddball in the comics world and my books don't fit the musclemen-in-tight-pants perception of what comics are all about. There have been some changes since the UG Comix days, of course, but comics are still Superhero based for the most part. Graphic histories are thus marginal to both groups (history buffs and comic fans), so this is one of the roadblocks that I face with my projects.
TO: How vindicated did you feel with the 2002Austin Chronicle article on your work compared to the treatment your work received in 19981998 at the Austin Chronicle? Do you find that many reviewers misunderstand/misinterpret your work, because of its unique nature (historical graphic novels)?
JJ: When the Comics Journal interviewed me and allowed me a venue to confront the racist charges that the Austin Chronicle raised against my book Lost Cause, I felt fairly vindicated. Still pissed off, mind you, but at least I got my say. However, the incident made me an avowed enemy of the politically correct crowd, when it comes to telling history. They don't want truthful history; they want exercises in progressive race relations. Sorry, but we Americans were not one big happy family in the 19th Century. I don't think you can correct old lies by telling new ones, yet this is what many modern educators want to do. This means that truth-based graphic works such as mine are now liable to attacks from the Liberal/Politically Correct Crowd as well as the Right-Wing/Religious Lunatic Fringe. What it boils down to is that our society is losing its sense of humor, and it's getting harder to make people laugh. We now ask ourselves, "Should I find this funny or be offended?"
It helps if a reviewer of my graphic books has a knowledge of history. But the books still must stand or fall according to how well I tell the story, both with pictures and story.
TO: Considering you self-published your first work, God Nose, in 1964, as this year draws to a close you're close to embarking on your 40th year telling sequential art tales. How noticeably has the industry changed for you over the years?
JJ: Oh, I'm a bit disappointed with how the "industry" has changed/not changed over the past 40 years. It's still an uphill battle for creators who expect to prosper from their talents, or even make a decent living out of it. Several of my friends have abandoned the field entirely because the "system" doesn't reward excellent work with the corresponding pay. Personally, I find less and less material of interest every time I visit the local comics shop. This, I'm sure, is because I'm a crusty old fart past my prime. My generation said don't trust anybody over 30 and I'm double that now, so what can you expect? My aim has always been to produce books that will stand the test of time. Comanche Moon is one of those books, so I'm pleased that Reed has put it back in print. I hope that the story will be as fresh and meaningful to readers who pick it up now as it was to those who read the first edition years ago.
