Crazy in Love


I'd like to start by saying that Art Spiegelman is one of the more weirder people I've met. While we were reading Maus in class, the panels consistently seemed to pop out of the page in unimaginable ways. From that, I always thought that this man was deeply enlightened and had wise insight on everything in life, but he's definitely a little bit weirder, to say the least. Now I'm not saying this to try to undermine his reputation as a well renowned Pulitzer Prize worthy author, but after meeting him I must say I've gotten a better idea of who he is. Take for example, the image above. In August of 1991, riots broke out between the black and Orthodox Jew communities in Brooklyn's Crown Heights, fueled by increasingly tense racial relations. In response, Art Spiegelman, editor for The New Yorker, illustrated the cover above and the magazine was released to the public. In an attempt to unite the two communities with this cover depicting a black woman and a Jew passionately making out, Art actually worsened the situation, aggravating both communities. What the heck did he think was going to happen? Although he had good intentions, his perception of love is completely in the wrong here. Why would he simultaneously gross out two already on edge communities by having them "kiss out" their feelings? His original point was to replace conflict with love, but I don't think this is the right kind of love.
Another kind of love I learned more about this week that is taboo and weird was incest. In Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison creates an "obscene child playing dirty games with whatever male was near-be it her father or her son" to portray Ruth as a lover that engages in incest. After the initial disgust had subsided from reading this, I realized that thoughts such as incest and necrophilia are just the result of natural human emotions, and love is just crazy weird. I was taken aback and disgusted at the image of a mother being "with" her father and her son, and I began to relate a little bit more to the blacks and Jews of the communities in Crown Heights. But humans are humans. I am entitled to my definitions of love just as much as any other human being, be it an eccentric comic artist or an incestuous black woman. To me it may seem weird, but love has no boundaries, and even though it may seem taboo, it can't be ignored. Love is still love.

Comments

  1. I like how you related love from Art Spiegelman's work and personal experiences to Song of Solomon. Many people have come up with a variety of definitions of love and have thus used this interpretation in many different ways. Well said!

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