The material value of comic art

So what about comics, as a displayable collectible?

The idea 0f material rarity, the key to the collectibility of many kinds of cultural artifacts, ought to be seriously undermined by rapid electronic interchanges among individuals.

Benjamin figured that the original work of art would cease to have any significant value in this new political economy of images, and that at some point there would be no authentic original at all. He was undoubtedly very prescient, but the nostalgic power of the aura of uniqueness he assigned to the disappearing original has not gone away. He underestimated capitalism's ability to assign authenticity and harness value even in the disappearing margins of culture. He was, of course, not the only one to underestimate capitalism's perseverance and flexibility.

Benjamin's formula included the cult value of the original, the value of not putting the original on display. What he did not suggest was that there could be a significant (by no means marginal) cult value attached to the reproductions, too. And that if this value was at the right balance between what was affordable by a collector and still rare enough to have enough second-hand aura -- well, then, a billion-dollar trade in disposable periodicals should make up for the loss of a billion-issue sales year (op. cit.). The marginal becomes collectible, and recovers its "authority"-- or reinvents it.

But to keep this trade moving, its images cannot remain hidden -- they have to circulate or at least advertise as well. Which they do. A few of them are in this paper. What "actual" value might these ephemeral representations of ephemera have?

My modest proposition is that these images have a pleasure-value or a diversion-value, distinct from their cult value or their use value or their material value in the marketplace. And like the crisis faced by the music-publishing industry when radio and recordings superseded the huge sheet-music business, the companies will find a way to make money from the new trade. One can only hope that the creators might at the very least share in this bounty. It is hard to imagine that they might be able to control it.

About those 1955 "original" Mad pages, the Sound Effects story -- if the "very" originals survive, then they will have a certain and probably considerable collectible value. But I propose that even the infinitely copyable digital page scan of one of those original printings is more pleasurable or diverting than the re-coloured version. (Both come from CD-ROMs, incidentally.) One reproducible has more value to me than the other -- it seems to be "closer" to the original. Its inconsistencies and errors of printing are somehow evocative of the handwork of the original original -- and by association, the era of its first production. Thus, more nostalgia per pixel.

		Ephemeral landscapes: popular worlds? Conclusions, 2: the material value of comic art

`Settings and images` `MassPopCultArt` `What is a comic?` `back to the beginning of the INTRODUCTION` `check out the REFERENCES` `LITTLE PICTURES`		Walter Benjamin's oft-cited 1936 essay, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction", appeared just as technology and communications media had recently mounted a series of new plateaus, most conspicuously radio, mass-distribution illustrated magazines, local telephone networks, controlled-access highways for private motorcars, and moving-picture soundtracks. Television was not far off. The essay raised basic questions about aesthetic authenticity, and aesthetic authority, in the reproduction of images (of "art"): To an ever greater degree the work of art reproduced becomes the work of art designed for reproducibility. From a photographic negative, for example, one can make any number of prints; to ask for the "authentic" print makes no sense. But the instant the criterion of authenticity ceases to be applicable to artistic production, the total function of art is reversed. Instead of being based on ritual, it begins to be based on another practice--politics. (Or, might that practice be commerce?) Works of art are received and valued on different planes. Two polar types stand out; with one, the accent is on the cult value; with the other, on the exhibition value of the work. Artistic production begins with ceremonial objects destined to serve in a cult. One may assume that what mattered was their existence, not their being on view. The elk portrayed by the man of the Stone Age on the walls of his cave was an instrument of magic. He did expose it to his fellow men, but in the main it was meant for the spirits. Today the cult value would seem to demand that the work of art remain hidden. . . . [But?] With the emancipation of the various art practices from ritual go increasing opportunities for the exhibition of their products. And so . . . With the different methods of technical reproduction of a work of art, its fitness for exhibition increased to such an extent that the quantitative shift between its two poles turned into a qualitative transformation of its nature. This is comparable to the situation of the work of art in prehistoric times when, by the absolute emphasis on its cult value, it was, first and foremost, an instrument of magic. Only later did it come to be recognized as a work of art. In the same way today, by the absolute emphasis on its exhibition value the work of art becomes a creation with entirely new functions, among which the one we are conscious of, the artistic function, later may be recognized as incidental. This much is certain: today photography and the film are the most serviceable exemplifications of this new function. (Benjamin 1969: 224–5) So what about comics, as a displayable collectible? The idea 0f material rarity, the key to the collectibility of many kinds of cultural artifacts, ought to be seriously undermined by rapid electronic interchanges among individuals. Benjamin figured that the original work of art would cease to have any significant value in this new political economy of images, and that at some point there would be no authentic original at all. He was undoubtedly very prescient, but the nostalgic power of the aura of uniqueness he assigned to the disappearing original has not gone away. He underestimated capitalism's ability to assign authenticity and harness value even in the disappearing margins of culture. He was, of course, not the only one to underestimate capitalism's perseverance and flexibility. Benjamin's formula included the cult value of the original, the value of not putting the original on display. What he did not suggest was that there could be a significant (by no means marginal) cult value attached to the reproductions, too. And that if this value was at the right balance between what was affordable by a collector and still rare enough to have enough second-hand aura -- well, then, a billion-dollar trade in disposable periodicals should make up for the loss of a billion-issue sales year (op. cit.). The marginal becomes collectible, and recovers its "authority"-- or reinvents it. But to keep this trade moving, its images cannot remain hidden -- they have to circulate or at least advertise as well. Which they do. A few of them are in this paper. What "actual" value might these ephemeral representations of ephemera have? My modest proposition is that these images have a pleasure-value or a diversion-value, distinct from their cult value or their use value or their material value in the marketplace. And like the crisis faced by the music-publishing industry when radio and recordings superseded the huge sheet-music business, the companies will find a way to make money from the new trade. One can only hope that the creators might at the very least share in this bounty. It is hard to imagine that they might be able to control it. About those 1955 "original" Mad pages, the Sound Effects story -- if the "very" originals survive, then they will have a certain and probably considerable collectible value. But I propose that even the infinitely copyable digital page scan of one of those original printings is more pleasurable or diverting than the re-coloured version. (Both come from CD-ROMs, incidentally.) One reproducible has more value to me than the other -- it seems to be "closer" to the original. Its inconsistencies and errors of printing are somehow evocative of the handwork of the original original -- and by association, the era of its first production. Thus, more nostalgia per pixel. Somewhere, perhaps, that artwork survives, awaiting a fuller comparative analysis, or at least the avid collector. Meanwhile, you can get the images in electronic form (on CD-ROM) for about the same price as a paper copy of the original Sound Effects issue (No. 20) in good to fine condition. And get much greater diversion-value. "Conclusion" #3 . . .
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Conclusions, 2: the material value of comic art

Conclusions, 2:
the material value of comic art