In this, the second of two volumes collecting all his woodcut novels, The Library of America brings together Ward’s three later books, two of them brief, the visual equivalent of chamber music, the other his longest, a symphony in three movements. Prelude to a Million Years (1933) is a dark meditation on art, inspiration, and the disparity between the ideal and the real. Song Without Words (1936), a protest against the rise of European fascism, asks if ours is a world still fit for the human soul. Vertigo (1937), Ward’s undisputed masterpiece, is an epic novel on the theme of the individual caught in the downward spiral of a sinking American economy. Its characters include a young violinist, her luckless fiancé, and an elderly business magnate who—movingly, and without ever becoming a political caricature—embodies the social forces determining their fate.
The images reproduced in this volume are taken from prints pulled from the original woodblocks or first-generation electrotypes. Ward’s novels are presented, for the first time since the 1930s, in the format that the artist intended, one image per right-hand page, and are followed by four essays in which he discusses the technical challenges of his craft. Art Spiegelman contributes an introductory essay, “Reading Pictures,” that defines Ward’s towering achievement in that most demanding of graphic-story forms, the wordless novel in woodcuts.
LYND WARD (1905-1985) illustrated more than two hundred books for children and adults throughout his prolific career. Winner of the Caldecott Medal for his watercolors in The Biggest Bear, Mr. Ward was also famous for his wood engravings, which are featured in museum collections throughout the United States and abroad.
Vienas is pirmuju grafines noveles kureju, amerikietis Lynd Ward (1905-1985). Visos jo noveles bezodes, tik medzio raiziniais pasakojamos istorijos. Vienas raizinys desineje lapo puseje.
I sia knyga ieina trys noveles, sukurtos tarp 1933 ir 1937 metu. Leidima redagavo ir izanga parase Art Spiegelman. Lynd Ward ikvepe ne tik Maus autoriu, bet ir kitus siuoliakinius grafiniu noveliu kurejus. Yra kur akis ir mintis paganyti.
I don't think I've ever enjoyed a work that made me say "huh?" as much as this anthology did. Happily, the medium lends itself easily to multiple read-throughs, and I felt like I was better understanding each work every time I revisited it.
I especially appreciated Ward's short commentary about each work at the back of the anthology. I was grateful for his endorsement of personal interpretation of each work.
Semi-spoilers about my interpretation of Song Without Words ahead:
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I marveled at Ward's commentary about his OBGYN friend reading Song Without Words as a story about pregnancy and labor, since I came away from the work with such a powerful story of infertility and miscarriage! I think it's great that Ward encourages all interpretations of his work, and himself states that for him it was primarily a loose collection of concepts about facism. Wow. Incredible.
The second volume of Lynd Ward's woodcut novels collects his final three works in the medium. Like the first three, the stories are a little confusing and not always fluid, but they're fascinating peeks into the time period (1930s) and beautiful works of art. Also, like the first three, these stories are pretty damn bleak, with no holds barred social and political commentary. Vertigo is Ward's longest woodcut novel and possibly his best. It follows three characters whose lives intersect during the Depression. There's genuine pathos here, and it's well-told given the constraints of the medium.
A major negative: this volume reprints Art Spiegelman’s introductory essay from the first one. Why?
A Prelude to A Million Years - A sculpture artist dreams of magical encounters with women and attempts to immortalize their image in stone. Unsatisfied with his imagined interactions with women he decides to pursue them out in the real world and finds they don't meet his impossibly high expectations.
The themes came across clearly in this title but it's probably the most basic of Ward's works and while short still seems overlong and melodramatic. The more surreal / dreamlike woodcuts were really enjoyable though. ⭐⭐
A Song Without Words - A young nomadic woman wakes up next to her lover and realizes she is pregnant. Concerned with their ability to provide for the child, she ventures into the nearby city to see if the grass is greener there. She is quickly exposed to the brutality of the more "civilized" life and ventures back to the wild with the confidence to raise her child "uncivilized".
This was my favorite work of Ward's, with a fable like presentation using more abstract characters and theming taking center stage. The woodcuts also use perspective and proportion more effectively than the majority of Ward's other work. ⭐⭐⭐
Vertigo - A story told from three perspectives about people from different stations whose lives intersect tangentially during the great depression. I feel like I missed something here as the stories don't interact substantially and there doesn't appear to be much in terms of an overarching theme or narrative outside of how greed leads to economic strife. Vertigo was also the slowest paced and longest story of Ward's and the visual flair didn't feel as well utilized. ⭐⭐
This is not a reading book but a complilation of several albums of the artist's woodcuts. The detail is fantastic, the subject matter deeply moving and disturbing. As a child I enjoyed books with Lynd Ward's illustrations, but this is definitely for the mature mind. His depictions of the social and economic upheaval in the U.S. during the 1930s is absolutely, chillingly timely. A visual treat.
I'm glad this exists. And I'm glad I read it. That said, I didn't enjoy it much. The essays added some. I wish there was actual intro and conclusion to each of the works. Some of the art as always was quite beautiful. Most of it I had trouble turning it into a plot.
Based on a strong recommendation from a co-worker, I selected this collection to be my first foray into Lynd Ward. His images and messaging are equally powerful, and I recommend his work to anyone who wants to understand where some the best work in today's graphic novels might come from.
The second volume covering the final three wordless woodcut novels by Lynd Ward. Aside from what I said in my notes for the first volume, I simply want to direct your attention to the final image in the 1929 section of Vertigo. Sheets of rain fall at the fair causing the crowds to make a mad dash for cover. The driving sheets of rain and the piercing lights of the carnival seem to almost be in battle, while the couple we have followed, huddles to the right side of the frame. The night of reverie is ending and the Great Depression is just around the corner.
I cannot imagine looking at a block of wood and carving this image. Lynd Ward was a master.
This is a novel and two short stories that are entirely composed of woodcuts. Originally published in the 1930s, they are definitely in the mold of the Depression-era quasi-socialist left. While I don't identify with that political orientation, it is animated by valid concerns: the plight of the poor, corruption, the dehumanization of mass society, and the brutality of war. These themes are treated powerfully in Ward's work. Art Spiegelman's excellent introduction makes a good comparison between these stories-in-pictures and silent film, but I found this more powerful. I especially like that Ward manages to produce protest art (and uses typological characters) without retreating to stereotypes and caricatures. As a bonus, this edition (published by The Library of America) is a lovingly made volume, so it beautifully presents Ward's stories.
Ward's work in the images is amazing. But like some of the essays suggest, there is a heavy-handed quality to parts of it, much like overacting in silent movies. The stories are all told in images only, so that is to be expected, and can easily be forgiven, particularly with the overall quality on display. On the other hand, the essays and information in the book can get somewhat tedious for people who are not particularly interested in the history and theory behind bookmaking and creating images. I enjoyed the biographical/timeline information on Ward, not having realized he had a hand in some of my favorite childhood books. And Ward's upbringing and interests certainly inform the content and themes of his work.
1. Prelude to a Million Years: While the weakest in this volume, Prelude still works as an episodic account in a dystopian take on Adam and Pygmalion. 6.5/10 2. Song Without Words: Presented as if a dream, Song Without Words brings the quality back up as it honestly asks the question, "What is the point of bringing another life into a world like this?" 7/10 3. Vertigo: Ward's Depression epic, Vertigo ends his woodcut run on a high note as it expertly connects his haunting romanticism, frank bleakness about fate, and direct social commentary on the toll the Great Depression takes upon the working class while the rich suck on the blood of labor. 8/10
Lynd Ward wrote graphic novels composed entirely of woodcuts. These stories date from the late 20s to early 30s and the story lines reflect that: lots of Depression era motifs, unions, etc. Because of that, I couldn't help but wonder if some references and visual cues were lost on me. Either way, the images are beautiful. Ward spent significant time in Weimar Berlin and his aesthetic reflects that. Definitely recommend this book to anyone interested in graphic novels, art, or the 1930s.
Overall, I think this one is less approachable than the other volume; the two short stories are too short to be interesting. The long one is very good, and shows a vastly improved sense of pacing. But it is quite long--too long to quite absorb at one sitting, which seems to be how these things should be read.
Somber tales in highly detailed wookcut engravings. Often dark and bleak, these stories tell of an economic and moral stagnation not so different from our current state. Ward is a master of the woodcut medium.
This is the second of two volumes. It was wonderful, though, overall, I preferred the first. The art was exquisite, but I slightly preferred the starker images in the first book. The stories were also good. The first two a bit more open for interpretation.
Woodcuts! What! Awesome :) I love how it's open for interpretation. One story; many readers. I walked for a mile in my students' shoes using context, clues to decipher meaning.