Some thoughts, first posted here some years back, in celebration of what would have been Will Eisner's 100th birthday:
I had the honor of sitting on a panel beside Eisner—one of few comic book creators who crossed, then utterly erased, the line between pop culture entertainment and genuine literature—many years ago, but we never had the opportunity to really talk, really connect. And yet we did connect, through his work, and he spoke to me, via words and pictures, in eloquent, unforgettable—and deeply personal—ways.
There have been times, in a career that’s lasted over thirty-five years, when I’ve grown tired of comics, when I’ve felt that there’s nothing left for me to say; when I’ve looked at the form with a cynical, dismissive eye. Better, I thought, to just focus on my television and film work, on novels, on anything but those damn comic books.
And then, I’d pick up some Eisner graphic novel—Dropsie Avenue, To the Heart of the Storm, or my absolute favorite, one of the single most brilliant works this medium has ever seen, A Contract With God—and the scales would fall from my eyes, the cynical words would dissolve on my lips, the innocence and enthusiasm of a kid reading his first comic book would burn bright in my heart.
Will Eisner didn’t traffic in costumes and super-powers: He looked at the (apparently) mundane, everyday world and revealed the infinite universes within each person’s heart. His work, unfailingly, inspired me and taught me, again and again, that the true potential of comics has only begun to be tapped; that we, as writers and artists in this medium, can, and must, tell stories of intelligence, emotion—and heartbreaking, uplifting humanity.
©copyright 2017 J.M. DeMatteis