Q&A: Craig Thompson on Habibi, Fluidity & Emotional Resonance

Based in Portland, OR, graphic novelist Craig Thompson made his name among librarians with Blankets, his deeply personal, widely celebrated look at growing up and falling in love for the first time. This month he returns with the even more ambitious Habibi (see LJ's starred review). Running nearly 700 pages in length and the product of seven years of research, writing, and illustration, it tells the story of Dodola and Zam, studying the bonds of family, relationships, and religion—this time, Islam. Readers should prepare themselves for another engrossing and affecting story of love and heartbreak, gorgeously and masterfully told through words and art.

For a fascinating look at the creation of Habibi over the course of several years, visit Thompson's blog and look under the tag "habibi." A further selection can be seen at the Process Gallery for Habibi's new website.—Stephanie Chase

SC: You have expressed your desire to create lines clearly drawn by human hand, not replicable by computer graphics. In an interview on the Comics Tool Blog, you said "the fluidity & sensuality of brush suits my overall style more." Can you tell us more about this? Did these preferences inform the story you wished or chose to tell in Habibi?

CT: It's not something I think of consciously. Fluidity is really crucial to me in my drawing and storytelling style; it makes the brush a natural tool. I am a cartoonist, but a lot of my artistic concerns are not around realism or capturing color. I am really interested in lines, the curves. There's already enough suffocation in the medium; I want to counteract that quality of suffocation of the page and the rectangles and boxes.

SC: You have said you view "cartooning as calligraphy." How has this informed your work, not only on Habibi but also on past works?

CT: It is something I came to when I started Blankets. My first book, Good-Bye, Chunky Rice, has a pretty slick and cartoony line, built up in a really controlled manner. I admire the French cartoonists and their more expressive style [For more on Thompson's interest in French cartoonists, seek his travelogue Carnet de Voyage.—SC]. With Habibi, I ventured back to the more tightly controlled line; it was less loose, with a lot of detail. I wanted the surface quality of the work to speak to some other principle, to the illusion of being natural. It provides an emotional resonance. I think of comics that are drawings that are handwritten.

I had pressure to get an intern during the process of Habibi, but I resisted until the end. Scanning the pages, placing the page numbers, drawing the patterns: it's repetitive and tedious. But I wanted everything in the book to be my own—I did all the production work as well.

It felt like it took forever. I felt like I would never come back, that I was going to get lost in this obsessive process.

SC: What is tedious for the writer is joyful for the reader. There is nothing to break up the experience of the story.

CT: I am glad to hear that!

SC: Habibi is an amazingly complex and layered work in every way: the art, design, story, history, and allusions to the rich stories of several religions. You devoted more than seven years to its creation. What compelled you to tell this story? What lessons did you learn?

CT: It might be too soon to say what I am going to take with me. There are all kinds of layers of ornament. Part of the point was to heap more ornament and layers on the work. However, at the core is a very personal story, reflecting a lot of emotional and personal stuff I was processing during the course of working on the book. There's a lot of me learning about how to be in a relationship again.

I started working on Habibi after a devastating breakup; at the point of the reunion of the characters in the book, I felt I was starting to make progress in the relationships in my life. I went from a little "emo boy" to much more of an adult in a relationship over the course of working on Habibi.

SC: You left Chapter 8 in Habibi for last, with the final chapters coming after. You wrote on your blog, "I skipped over the penultimate chapter for now—the logic of which will reveal itself."

CT: Part of it was that it is only text. I could have drawn that process out for a long time. The drawing process goes more quickly for me and feels more productive. At the end of every day, I have something concrete to show. Writing is one of those things that I can make dramatic leaps in over the course of the day, or go weeks or months without anything. Chapter 8 is also, in terms of the story, the first chapter. I wanted to reread the whole book when it was finished and go back and write the beginning in that chapter.

SC: I was so surprised to find the book has a modern setting. It seems so timeless.

CT: Most people are surprised when the trucks show up, but there are bits of technology all throughout the story. There's a motorcycle on page three, which most people miss!

SC: You recently returned from San Diego Comic-Con, where you sat on a panel dedicated to "the Art of the Graphic Novel" (see the video here). How did it go? How has your experience working with and talking about Habibi differed from your experience with Blankets?

CT: This was my first time at Comic-Con in seven years. I feel like, on the panel, we made our job seem tedious, but it's an art form, so it is passionate.

Overall, my take on Comic-Con was that it wasn't as much about comics—it hasn't been for a long time. It's a Hollywood show! My signings were busy enough. They weren't insane like in the past. It was easier for us, my cartoonist friends and me, in terms of the amount of traffic in the comics area. People were there to sight-see the stars of Twilight. I felt a little like I was a +1.

It was good, though, because it was a lighter load. With Blankets, I did feel more like an authority, because it was only about me and my life; I know the ins and outs of that. With Habibi, there are so many elements based on research I had done six or more years ago and forgotten about. There are also abstract mysteries about the book I don't want to dissect.

I have in mind three new projects, and those are what my brain is obsessed with: the things no one will see for four years.

SC: Libraries have steadily increased their collection and advocacy of the graphic novel format. What are your thoughts on the role of libraries in marketing and introducing readers to graphic novels?

CT: It is massive, for sure. There is some sort of symbiotic relationship: graphic novels bring readers in, and as the sections grow in libraries, it brings in new readers and fans to the genre.

I know I have fought both my publishers regarding electronic versions of my books. For a little bit longer I am resisting. I think [an electronic presentation] hampers the reading experience, especially of graphic novels. I want to keep the printed book around longer, and I think graphic novels will help do that.

SC: Many librarians will be interested in your connection with the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund.

A collaboration I did with poet/professor Kazim Ali [was part of the CBLDF Liberty Anthology 2011]. Inspired by Dan Savage's It Gets Better, Kazim wrote a seven-page comic about being gay and Muslim, and I illustrated it. Actually, it's about being gay and Muslim and Indian and Canadian! And Kazim wrote prose ruminations that I broke down into comics compositions.

The CBLDF legally defends books. Blankets went through its own little hassle a few years ago, and while I don't believe the CBLDF was part of that, it does handle those kind of situations. It is funny we have to still defend the First Amendment!

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