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by Kurt Busiek
Kurt Busiek is the writer for such comics
as Iron Man and The Avengers, and is the creator of
Astro City.
I have to admit to a certain thrill, sitting down to write this
introduction. This is Usagi Yojimbo, after all. There'll be a
Usagi Yojimbo trade paperback out there that I had something to do
with. I like the thought of that, and that's why I said, "Sure, you bet!"
the moment I was asked to do this.
But that leaves me with a problem. Now I've got to write the piece, and
there's not a lot I can tell you, whether you're new to Usagi, or a
longtime reader like me.
I can't, for instance, tell you much about Stan Sakai. I could tell you
about the time we went up in a hot-air balloon together - Stan had come up
to my neck of the woods for a comics convention, and one of the things the
convention organizer (the ever-affable Richard Finn) likes to do is show the
guests a fun time in return for signing autographs and such at the con. On
this particular day, we got up at the crack of dawn and watched as the folks
from the ballooning company laid out the brightly colored balloon, fired up
the burners, and filled it with hot air until it was straining to be aloft.
And then a bunch of us piled in and took to the sky.
It was spectacular - being above the familiar countryside turned it
strange and exotic; the early-morning mists, the sensation of absolute
stillness as the world rolled by beneath us, the sudden awareness of speed
as we descended to just above the treetops. If you're a comics creator and
Richard Finn ever invites you to a show, by all means say yes;
you'll get to do this yourself, or go river rafting, or skiing, or some
other such similar delight. But Stan? He was the quiet guy at the back. I
can't say I got to know him, memorable though the trip was.
Other than that, I've talked to Stan on the phone a time or two, and seen
him at conventions signing books and doing rabbit-head sketches for healthy
lines of Usagi devotees. He's a nice guy - pleasant, friendly,
modest, and amazingly talented - but I don't really know him well enough to
share any incisive insights about him.
And I can't exactly rattle on about 16th-century Japan, setting the stage
for the adventures you're going to be reading. For one thing, Stan's already
taken care of it, with the elegant and informative four-page prologue to the
first Dark Horse issue of Usagi, which was done to bring new
readers up to speed, and which I expect runs either at the beginning of this
collection or at the start of the two-part "Noodles" story it originally
introduced. And for another, I don't really know that much about the
subject. Basically, all I know about feudal Japan, I learned from James
Clavell novels and Usagi Yojimbo - and probably some
Wolverine comics, but I have my doubts about their dependability as
historical resources.
It's funny. I'm a big proponent of doing comics for specific audiences,
catching readers' attention with the content rather than trying to tempt
customers into buying stuff they're not interested in - if you want to
attract mystery buffs, do mystery comics, don't do superhero comics with
mystery elements and expect that'll be enough. If you want to attract
romance buffs, do romance comics, and so forth. And I firmly believe this -
but I'm the antithesis of the argument, since feudal Japan and
samurai adventures aren't a big interest of mine. It's not like I
go out of my way to avoid such material - but I don't seek it out
either.
And yet, the setting and culture of Usagi Yojimbo are immensely
important to the series. Story after story features introductions to and
explanations of aspects of feudal Japanese culture and legend, and this
volume is no exception - from the seaweed farmers of "Kaiso" to the
authentic (if corrupt) village justice system and soba merchant of
"Noodles" to the repercussions of Western intrusion into Japan in "Bats, the
Cat, and the Rabbit" and more.
And I've got to say, I love it all.
That brings me to the third thing I can't tell you that much about, which
is the comics themselves.
I can tell you my reaction to them, which is flat-out awe. I referred to
some of Stan's work as "elegant" a few paragraphs back, and that's an
understatement. In an industry overwhelmed by in-your-face spectacle, Stan
is a master of restraint, setting the stage slowly and deliberately and
letting the story amble forward at an unhurried pace, which seems peculiarly
appropriate for the adventures of a samurai traveling on foot. But
it also results in comics far more exciting than the gaudiest of the
in-your-face stuff, since the restraint provides a context against which the
violence and danger that permeate these stories come as a shock, an ugly
interruption of life.
I could point out examples: look at the first page of "Lightning Strikes
Twice," at the panels Stan has chosen - birds over the woods, the high
aerial shot of the road, and the slow zoom-in that introduces us to
ordinary, everyday people going about their business - only to break that
carefully constructed mood in a single panel, as the people turn out to be
anything but ordinary, and Inazuma reacts to their imminent attack. And then
we turn the page and the scene explodes in action, the peace and beauty
shattered. How much less effective would that have been if Stan had opened
with the action, without first giving us time to relax into the setting? (Of
course, Stan does open stories with action, but they're worth a careful
look, too, as in the way "Noodles" intercuts between the anger and emotion
of the chase and Usagi's slow, relaxed walk, building to a gag rather than
an explosion.)
And I could point to the way Stan frames his panels - no dramatic angles
for the sake of it, no wild layouts to "jazz up" the page - just clear,
straightforward storytelling that lets the beauty of the drawing come
trough, focuses on content and mood, and always, always, tells the story
rather than distracts from it.
I could explain why it is that the setting and culture fascinate me so
much here, how Stan is such a good storyteller, such a good explainer, that
the history and mythology lessons we get along the way don't feel like
lectures but discoveries - as you'll see in the many pages of
"Kaiso" that are devoted to showing the reader (and Usagi) what
seaweed farming entails, and how it shapes the lives of those who make their
living at it.
But that's the thing, isn't it? You're going to see it in
"Kaiso." You're going to read that first page of "Lightning Strikes
Twice," and the opening sequence of "Noodles." You have the book. If you're
a longtime Usagi reader like me, you know this stuff already. If
you're a newcomer, you're about to find out. And either way, you don't need
me telling you about it ahead of time. There's stuff I'd love to talk about
- the heartbreak in these stories, the moments of poetic justice, the
treachery and resourcefulness - but I don't want to spoil it for you. You'll
read it in the stories, as you should.
So what is there for me to tell you? These are the stories from the final
two issues of Mirage Publishing's run of Usagi Yojimbo and the
first six issues of Dark Horse Comics' run (plus a stray back-up story from
an earlier Mirage issue). You're gonna love 'em. That's all you need to
know.
But humor me - if you see me at a convention and you're got this book,
pretend like I accomplished something in this intro, okay? I've wanted to be
a part of this series for years, and I'd hate to think I was
completely irrelevant...
- Kurt Busiek, March 1998
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