In Leighton and Surridge’s article they begin by discussing the layout of the pictures in the American version of The Moonstone as printed in Harper’s Weekly, focusing on the extra perspective that the images offered as opposed to merely complimenting the text. Their main argument is that “While at times the illustrations share the point of view of the verbal plot… at others they give an alternative perspective, that of a hypothetical outside observer…” (214). Yes, The Moonstone’s format was already complex because of the multiple narrators, but the article is rooting for yet another layer of complexity. “The illustrations thus form an intrinsic part of the novel’s interrogation of class boundaries and the British imperialist project; they are not mere decoration or addition, but form a key part of the text as it reached its American readers” (217) — in other words, a picture is definitely worth a thousand words.
A picture being worth a thousand words is a key component of another novel, one in fact that David mentioned in class: Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis. The difference between the level of usage of pictures in The Moonstone and in Persepolis is large: the images in The Moonstone are not attached or reliant upon the words and allow the reader to encounter them separately from the text, while in Persepolis the format of a graphic narrative ( a fancy way to say comics) force the reader to digest both image and text at the same time. Despite this obvious difference, the common thread remains to be that each novel leaves room for an alternative narrative. Leighton and Surrdige have pinpointed how exactly the serialization of Collins’ novel in America does so, but how does Satrapi’s?
Let’s backtrack for a second to Satrapi’s purpose in writing her novel about her life growing up in Iran: it was, as she states in her introduction, to educate the reader about Iran and to never forget her story. Utilizing the format of a graphic narrative, Satrapi is able to accomplish this goal. This is because there is not any one unifying experience that everyone in Iran went through— it was always subjective. Therefore, by being able to physically draw in two separate narratives Satrapi is introducing two truths, two realities; The Moonstone relies on the same tenets by having chapters narrated from different character’s perspectives. An example of this is on page 102 in Persepolis where the top panel shows young boys, who belonged to poor families, being blown apart on the minefields, while Marji and her upper–class friends have the luxury to dance to punk rock at a party. Satrapi is aware that each Iranian had their own experience, and thus she does not shy away from portraying the other stories because her goal is to educate the reader. This kind of effect is what the article highlights is at work in the American serialization of Collins’ novel, that the pictures offer another take on what the text narrates.
Another example of this can be seen in the image below, one of the chapter pages in Persepolis. A lot can be said about what’s going on, but I’d like to just point out the way that the gutter is working in much the same way that the images in The Moonstone do. The words read “The Veil” and then the image next to it is of just one eye and the outline of a nose on a face. The picture is therefore speaking to the narrative of the veil and offering a separate meaning onto the words. It is already suggesting that what the veil did was hide one’s identity: there is no way to distinguish a person based on their eyes alone, let alone by just seeing one eye.
We’ve established how both The Moonstone and Persepolis interact with pictures as more than just decoration, but another interesting element is how both do so for the benefit of American readers. The article’s whole premise relies upon the novel’s serialization in America, and how the way it was printed created a different effect than it did in England: “Collins thus unleashed in America a notably different version of his novel, one that through its layout and visual material created markedly different ideological effects” ( 234). Similarly, Satrapi’s medium of a graphic narrative encompassed the same effect, allowing her to relay a foreign tale through the recognizable and relatable medium of comics. My conclusion couldn’t be more simple: when boundaries of language or culture exist, art is the only way to penetrate those boundaries and indeed break through them. It worked in 1868, and it still worked in 2007 ( the year Persepolis was published).
I’ll end off with this: do you guys still agree that pictures possess the ability to help cross cultural boundaries? Or do you think that we’ve reached a point in our worldliness where we can digest foreign tales through words alone without the help of another medium? Additionally, I don’t think the article tackled the reason as to why pictures were needed in the American serialization of The Moonstone, simply discussing the effect of doing so but not the cause. Do you guys think that the cause could be because of what I mentioned, of helping American readers understand a tale from England?