There’s an illustration in Lars Martinson’s new graphic novel Tonoharu that isn’t as flashy or complex as some of the other wonderfully-detailed illustrations of temples and festivals, but it’s the one that strikes the reader. Tonoharu follows a fictional American English teacher in a small Japanese town. A bespectacled gaijin sits on a floor-chair, snacking and watching television. Floor-to-ceiling curtains offer a peak of the balcony beyond, and a lone potted plant is the only other life in the room. This is life for many JETs after a day at work. Yes, most of us did join groups, make local friends, and teach on the side, but there were always those days spent alone.
What is wonderful about this mundane scene is the panel that precedes it. Busty Japanese women in bikinis surround the same bespectacled fellow, this time perched in a lounge chair with a tropical drink next to bags of yen. A striped sun, reminiscent of the old flag, sets on
“I’m interested in literary comics,” Lars says. “I’m not drawing superheroes.” Though when he became interested in comics in sixth grade, it was superhero comics that he read (including Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles). Like many JETs, he discovered Japanese manga as a teenager.
But while his interest in Japanese culture remained consistent over the years, his interest in manga eventually decreased. His first comics, drawn Japanese-style, did not work for him. “Around that time I discovered ‘alternative comics.’ The comics of Chris Ware and the Canadian cartoonist Seth had the biggest impact on me. It really opened my eyes to the fact that a work of literary merit could be created in the comics medium,” he says. Indeed, Chris Ware’s Jimmy Corrigan: Smartest Kid on Earth has been compared to the heaviest of literary forces, James Joyce’s Ulysses.
When you look at Tonoharu, the density of the background details is immediately noticeable. Great care has been taken to make the teachers’ room, bar, and Buddhist temple be instantly recognizable. The backgrounds look like
In contrast, most of the characters are simply rendered. “I emulate emotion. I don’t draw realistic people,” he comments. He compares his technique for drawing people to calligraphy. Like creating a kanji
character, Lars has a certain stroke order to a face. It is fascinating to watch Lars sketch a face in front of you—clearly a methodical process from hours practicing each character’s features. The head of Dan, the main character, went through the most incarnations to get to his present look. “He is in the most panels, and I just couldn’t get him right.”
Former JETs are the obvious audience for the PG-13 (or perhaps “soft R”) Tonoharu, but Lars hopes to connect with all travelers. He also seeks support for “Team Comics”—comic loyalists who promote the medium as a serious art form. “Older comics, like R. Crumb, they didn’t get any respect. There’s a core group of people who are pushing comics to make them legitimate.”
Anyone who has lived abroad will find universality in Dan’s difficulty to communicate and the loneliness of the language barrier. Dan has run-ins with other foreigners, one of whom disparages the country he’s chosen to live in. And other foreigners don’t see the locals as real people: A group of old-timey colonialist Europeans from across town love living amongst the “adorable natives.” But JET alums in particular will recognize their experiences. ALTs who expressed frustration with their position will commiserate with the caption accompanying a game of office solitaire: “No one seems to care what I do for the rest of the time as long as I am physically present at school for eight hours a day.” (Lars began what became Tonoharu during those hours of boredom.) And Dan’s welcome party leaves him horribly embarrassed. In a joke for anyone who’s watched Japanese TV, Dan’s feeble attempts to speak Japanese are written in katakana.
It’s the business aspect that doesn’t come naturally to Lars. He created Pliant Press to release Tonoharu, and as its sole proprietor and employee, he does everything himself—marketing, getting ISBN numbers, and finding a distributor. “Writing a press release about yourself is a weird experience,” he says. Still, Lars dreams big for Pliant Press: he wants to one day publish others’ work as well, to “give back to culture.”
Part 1 of Tonoharu, including the prologue, is 115 pages. Lars has sketched out Parts 2 and 3, plus an epilogue and appendices. When asked how long this will take him to complete, considering Part 1 needed four years, he groans: “I had a full-time job when I started Tonoharu.” Now, though, Tonoharu is his full-time job, thanks to the Xeric Foundation’s generosity and money saved up while on JET, and he thinks the rest of the project will come together much faster.
Tonoharu, in its insistence to show both positive and negative aspects of teaching in a small town in
For the past eighteen years, Lars knew he was meant to be a comic book writer. Now, with a professionally produced copy in his hand, he is one. Tonoharu Part 1 is available on his blog, larsmartinson.com, via Amazon.com, and, thanks to a recent deal with a distributor, in bookstores as of May 2008. This graphic novel is sure to inspire natsukashii feelings in JET alums and could even be a useful tool for people considering the JET program.
