Where were all the women at the British Comic Awards?

The first British Comics Awards were hugely successful – except for their less-than-perfect gender balance, writes Laura Sneddon.

Visiting Thought Bubble, a large comics convention held annually in Leeds, for the first time earlier this month, I was struck by the wonderful diversity of both the guests and audience. While larger conventions have struggled to move past male-dominated guest lists, Thought Bubble presents a much truer picture of the whole of the British comics community. 

It is perhaps all the more disappointing then that there was some surrounding wrought by the first British Comic Awards, held at Thought Bubble. The BCAs were designed to celebrate the vitality British comics (and fill a gap left by the Eagle awards, which, despite being UK-based, increasingly focus on American comics). The first ceremony was held at this year's Thought Bubble, and throughout the weekend grumbles were heard about the male dominated shortlist.

Across the nominations for four awards, the balance was thirteen men to three women, a stark contrast from the demographics of the crowd outside. While one award was won by a woman – the fantastic Josceline Fenton won Emerging Talent for her work on Hemlock – further concerns about gender disparity and committee bias have been raised since, leading to one committee member stepping down and an unfortunate Twitterstorm that brought the awards to the attention of the general public.

Speaking to the Forbidden Planet International Blog, Philippa Rice, creator of the popular webcomic My Cardboard Life, talked about her disappointment regarding the lack of diversity within the shortlist:

I noticed it when [the British Comic Awards] first released the nominations but it wasn’t until they tweeted a picture of the stack of books they were sending out to the judges it really hit properly: eleven books and literally just one by a woman. If you’re going to make a point out of having only four awards, have as many different people as possible – don’t duplicate. They’ve nominated three women in total and one across two different categories. I can’t believe they had that list and didn’t think it looks unfair – especially where some people had been nominated twice. It’s not like there aren’t woman who have had books out. Karrie Fransman, Mary Talbot, Simone Lia have all had very good, very popular, very acclaimed books this year.

Alongside the Costa-nominated Dotter of her Father's Eye by Mary and Bryan Talbot, both Fransman's The House That Groaned and Lia's Please God, Find Me A Husband! were lavished by praise from the broadsheet critics. And while US superhero comics are known for their lack of female creators, the UK has made great leaps in the last ten years: groups like Laydeez Do Comics, Women in Comics, Europe, and Team Girl Comic celebrate the work of women at all levels within the industry, and the smaller comic festivals frequently boast a 50/50 gender split.

One committee member, Adam Cadwell, assuming that Rice was requesting that men be excluded in favour of women hinted that the forthcoming discussion would not be fruitful – after all, considering more female creators doesn't mean men have to step aside.

Shortly after, another committee member, Matthew Sheret, accused Rice of using "manipulative" phrasing, and said that she should have talked with him privately rather than speaking out about her concerns in public.

The whole discussion ended in Rice apologising profusely for offering her opinion when asked in an interview, with many onlookers absolutely livid at how she had been effectively silenced.

In a year where the comics community has already been rocked by the recurring drama of “fake geek girls” – a small but vocal group of men panicking about women who attend comic conventions who may or may not be able to pass an exam on X-Men continuity – it is troubling to see anyone speaking out about sexism or perceived sexism being silenced. When it is a woman attempting to speak out, the context of the ongoing struggle against casual sexism within the comics industry gives the issue even greater weight, regardless of the original intentions.

When I spoke to Sheret, he expressed regret for his reaction on Twitter:

I took what Philippa said personally. In retrospect I shouldn't have, but at the time I was pretty upset she hadn't come to me to say anything about it because I consider her a friend…

Thing is, Philippa's comments were, largely, spot on. The panel needs more diversity… It will have it over time… And of course this stuff should be in the open, it's hugely important that the BCAs gets the balance right.

To be clear, there are indeed women sitting on both the BCA committee and the judging panel. The judging panel has four men and two women, while the committee is made up of five men and two women. Currently, the public nominates titles for consideration, the committee then picks the short list, and the judges choose the winners. This process is closed, leading to accusations of sexism and favouritism that cannot be properly answered.

One person who spoke in favour of Rice in the ensuing Twitter debate was Howard Hardiman, author of the critically acclaimed The Lengths. Speaking out about the importance of acknowledging structural prejudices in comics as an industry, he voiced the worry that the selected nature of the shortlists combined with an ignorance of privilege put non-male/white/abled/straight creators at a disadvantage. When I spoke to Hardiman on Thursday, he summed up the situation wonderfully:

I completely applaud the BCA's spirit and approach, but I think it's inevitable that when a group of friends decide to react to previous awards which were losing all credibility, they'll look first to the work they're familiar with, and that's most likely to be that made by those most similar to themselves. I don't think the nominating or the judging panel were guilty of any wilful bias, but I do think it's important to be mindful of the notion that one of the fundamental signs of privilege is that you're not aware of your privilege.

I think that people who are straight, white, non-disabled, men or of any other advantaged group should always try to be mindful of that and not be affronted if people without those advantages find that there are barriers to being heard, whether that's in the nomination process passing over some absolutely phenomenal titles by women or other marginalised voices or in raising concerns about those omissions.

I'm very glad that we're having this discussion; I think it's long overdue, and it comes from a perspective of celebration rather than criticism, so the message isn't 'Your privilege bias is showing!' but 'You might have inadvertently missed out on some absolutely cracking and innovative work here!'

Rice also suggested that having fellow creators on the committee and judging panel could potentially be unfair, with several nominees having completed work in the past for anthologies edited by committee members, and even some of the nominated works containing work by committee members. As a result, one committee member, Dan Berry has stepped down, stating that

[Rice] makes a good point. I don’t think that creators should be on the committee, especially if people think that they may have biases based on their own work, the publishers they work with and the other creators that they are friends with.

Asking Berry for further comment, he told me:

The space I vacate on the committee should be filled by someone who can help address the balance in the coming year and help solve the problems and the perceptions of bias surrounding the awards.

Indeed the current makeup of the committee has detracted from the very real praise that the winners of the BCAs deserve. The Best Book prize went to Nelson, a wonderful collaboration between 54 top UK comic creators, where each artist tells one year of one woman's life. It is a worthy winner, yet the fact remains that two of the artists are also on the committee. Given that two more of the committee are publishers themselves, with one of their anthologies also containing work from other BCA winners, things start to look a little blurry.

The argument has been made that this is a necessary result of including anthologies, but Rice tells me,

They are trying to make points that the UK comics industry is very small and everyone's in these anthologies, but my point is that that isn't actually true, the stuff that they've overlooked is the stuff that isn't in that little circle of anthologies, Karrie Fransman, Nicola Streeten, Simone Lia, Mary Talbot etc.

The issue of merit is important, because often when gender disparity rears its ugly head, the defence argue that merit was judged above all else (the implication being that the absence of women is simply because their work was not as good). Hardiman's comments that committees will be more drawn to work that they are familiar with, or they feel is more presentable to the public, is key.

This may well absolutely not be the case, but with a lack of transparency and other creators left feeling mystified by the process, there is a real sense that this is a problem that could and should have been avoided. Indeed, a welcoming of criticism as well as praise would have gone a long way towards soothing ruffled feathers, and ensuring that no underprivileged group felt unfairly discriminated against.

Asked to comment on the situation, Adam Cadwell made the following statement on behalf of the BCA committee:

The British Comic Awards were set up to celebrate and promote the best in British comics from the last year… Representing the diversity of creators in the UK wasn't our main aim. We chose books based on merit alone, we chose the books we each thought were the best regardless of the gender, race, religion or sexual persuasion of the author and we think that was a fair way to do it.

There has been criticism that the committee wasn't made up of men and women equally. We would have liked for this to be the case but back when we were asking people to commit large amounts of their free time to an idea it wasn't possible… We are hoping with our first year accomplished it will be an easier task to get more people involved and have an even number of men and women on the Committee…

We admit the Awards weren't perfect this year but we think they were a good and positive thing for the entire industry and can only help to elevate the status of the art form in this country. We hope to get better and better at doing this and opinions outside of the Committee are vital.

Rice rightly worries about the fact that "UK comics are getting a reputation for being a 'boys club' and that is true within a small circle of UK comics," and states that, "outside of that club there are lots of women making comics, and they're not unworthy of merit! Outside of the 'UK COMICS SCENE' circle we're getting great reviews, lots of happy readers and making a living from comics."

Thought Bubble remains a wonderfully welcoming comics festival. Yet the quiet upset that has spilled out around the BCAs is indicative of a community worried it cannot criticise an organisation that seeks to celebrate their work.

Last but not least, Lisa Wood, director of the Thought Bubble festival, expressed concern that the pro-woman festival itself and the issues raised were being overshadowed by the war of words:

Philippa and I chatted about this before the FP interview… With the current climate I think it is very easy to see situations like this in a certain light. The point I tried to get across to Philippa is that, as I see it, her perception of the situation is absolutely not the case as it stands. I want discussion about this topic, I welcome it, I'm a feminist, and I have constantly worked in a male dominated environments. I set Thought Bubble up to attempt to change this, that was one of my core aims…

And, I suppose, I keep putting myself in the shoes of the male BCA committee members, I know them, not one of them is a sexist, so for them, and I guess me, to be accused of this, even in an indirect manner, is upsetting, and, moreover, demoralising. What I'm trying to say is, that I understand why Matt got upset on twitter, it shouldn't be personal for him but it is, he's very upset by it…

Yes, lets talk about all these issues facing the industry openly, lets discuss the under-representation of women in comics, I need this, I want this, but to use the BCA to do this, I don't think the focus is right.

The winners of the British comics awards. Josceline Fenton, 2nd right, was the only woman.

Laura Sneddon is a freelance journalist. Find more of her work at comicbookgrrrl.com

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Thus Bad Begins confirms Javier Marías as a master of the novel form

Marías’ masterful expression of his characters' psychological weather, combined with Margaret Jull Costa's gifted translation, makes for rewarding reading.

For those who love the novel as a form and not just as entertainment, Javier Marías is arguably the most rewarding writer working today. Marías, who has a self-professed fondness for English-language masters such as Joseph Conrad and Henry James, carries forward and vitally renews the great European tradition – a tradition that, rooted in Cervantes and digressive 18th-century writers such as Fielding and Sterne, found its high point in the work of Flaubert, Proust and Balzac, as well as the anglophone novelists from whom Marías has learned so well.

No one since James has used the sentence to such effect in exploring the workings of human psychology and this must have presented his translator, Margaret Jull Costa, with problems. It must be difficult to render Marías’s Spanish sentences, which are uniquely those of this novelist, into contemporary English without making them read like a sub-Jamesian imitation. That she succeeds is a mark of a truly gifted translator.

Following on from The Infatuations, his superb and moving 2011 novel (published in English in 2013), Marías’s new offering is, if anything, even more effective in conveying the psychological weather of those who, as his narrator here puts it:

. . . will never go beyond their own bounds, those who one knows early on will leave no trace or track and will barely be remembered once they disappear (they will be like falling snow that does not settle, like a lizard climbing up a sunny wall in summer . . . like the words, all those years ago, that a teacher painstakingly wrote on the blackboard only to erase them herself at the end of the class, or leave them to be erased by the next teacher to occupy the room) and about whom not even their nearest and dearest will have any anecdotes to recount.

Such a person (the narrator of The Infatuations, for example) may become “a silent witness, impartial and useless”, and only the “indifferent sentinel observing all our lives” – fate, perhaps, or a kind of autre monde novelist recounting the human story from some remote watchtower – is capable of seeing that these characters, who seem “to be just passing through or on temporary loan even while they’re alive . . . harbour stories that are far odder and more intriguing, clearer and more personal than the stories of the shrill exhibitionists who fill most of the globe with their racket”.

These characters are observers, sometimes devotees, of the lives of others. In his youth, Juan, who tells the bewildering and tragic story of Thus Bad Begins, was the personal assistant of the film-maker Eduardo Muriel, whose finest days are behind him but who still commands respect among those who love film for its own sake. Much of Muriel’s life has been spent, or rather wasted, on two kinds of compromise: first, the self-betrayals that everyone had to commit during the Franco dictatorship in order to pursue his or her craft; and second, the kind of financial wheeling and dealing that any film-maker has to endure to realise their vision in celluloid.

Somehow, he has come through honourably and it is clear that Juan admires him, both as a man and as an artist – which makes Muriel’s cruel treatment of the wife who adores him all the more puzzling. Why does the great artist hate the beautiful, long-suffering Beatriz Noguera and why does he show her such contempt? This is the mystery at the heart of Thus Bad Begins, a mystery that will leave Juan well out of his depth when he is charged by his hero to investigate a man called Jorge Van Vechten, about whom Muriel entertains dark, if initially rather vague, suspicions.

To disclose more of the plot here would undermine the suspense that Marías so carefully creates, although it should be stressed that this suspense is not only dramatic and psychological but also existential. Besides, there is so much else to enjoy here, from the characterisations to the grace of the prose as, sentence by elegant sentence, Marías glides with seeming inevitability first towards the main narrative’s denouement and then to an afterlife in which Juan, now an older man looking back at his former life, remains haunted by the past, even in the midst of present happiness. That past, however, is more than just a troubling memory. It is an ever-present warning that today’s happiness might be lost in a rash word or an impulsive gesture; in short, in the kind of unguarded action with which bad begins.

Having witnessed the events of the novel as Muriel’s assistant and sometime friend, Juan knows that there is no defence against that brooding, internal danger, other than a kind of wishful or superstitious thinking in which, rather than consigning what happened in the past to the past, he forces himself to “recover that vision, so that . . . reality can be restored and that forgotten yesterday can return the today, which, just for an instant, has slipped away from us”.

This is the novel’s last poignant moment. It is a reminder that, throughout, Marías has been uncovering a history of temps perdu, in a life, in a marriage and in a society shamed by the dictatorship with which it allowed itself to compromise for so long. 

Thus Bad Begins by Javier Marías, translated by Margaret Jull Costa, is published by Hamish Hamilton (512pp, £18.99)

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad