Amazon.com Review
This collection is in many ways an indispensable history of women in comics since the 1940s. Author Trina Robbins used to hang out in comics shops with her boyfriend, waiting impatiently, assuming that comics was essentially a boy's medium. Looking closer, Robbins realized there was a hidden history within the comics world, one that reflected cultural shifts in ideas about women--if you look at how women are drawn, you learn a lot about how women are imagined. Robbins edited the first all-women comic book,
It Ain't Me, Babe, and her insider knowledge is clearly encyclopedic. Before the grrrl comics like Ellen Forney's
Tomato or Jessica Abel's
ArtBabe, there was 1943's
Girl's Life, narrated by a cartoon teenager named Patsy Walker who wants nothing more than to become a beautiful movie star. Then there are Betty and Veronica with their impossible breasts, and Wimmin's comics of the early '70s, in which the drawings pulse with angry life, druggy and hopeful.
From Girls to Grrrlz occasionally suffers from tunnel vision--analysis is not Robbins's strength. She's so immersed in the world she's documenting, she's never objective about it; she never rises out of the cartoon world for a feminist discussion of what it means for women to start drawing themselves, to start telling their own stories via this boy-dominated medium. Nevertheless, it is a well-organized, beautifully presented tribute to women as creators and characters. The full-page reproduction of "The Further Fattening Adventures of Pudge, Girl Blimp" is by itself worth the price of admission. --Emily White
From Publishers Weekly
At mid-century, female-targeted teen comic series like Archie, My Date and Lovers' Lane dominated the fledgling comic-books market. By the late '50s, macho-fantasy superheroes had taken over, and women's comics were pushed to the margins, much to the detriment of the industry. (Robbins estimates that comics were read by 90% of the population in the 1940s; today it's less than 1%.) As the editor in the late '60s of the first women-artists-only comic, It Ain't Me, Babe, and as a member of the team that recently produced a Barbie comic-book series (meant to bring back mainstream comics for girls), Robbins is a uniquely qualified tour guide through the tangled history of women's comics, from the squeaky-clean, lindy-hopping antics of Betty and Veronica to the raw mayhem of "Hothead Paisan, Homicidal Lesbian Terrorist." In segueing from mainstream comics to underground comix, this history grows schizoid. In the first half, Robbins offers a distanced, if informative, third-person account of early characters and genres; in the second half, she becomes a character in the story, offering an admirably humble, sometimes even self-critical, first-person account of a scene she helped create. With 150 color and 30 b&w reproductions of panels that are by turns kitschy, acidly funny and confrontational, this lavishly illustrated volume reveals the forces that have shaped contemporary comics and the pleasures they offer, be they aimed at girls or grrrlz.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.