<< 74.1-2 Spring 2025
Comic in Translation

I

by Martha Kuhlman, Vojtěch Mašek, Džian Baban, and Jan Šiller
A black-and-white comic page with collage-style panels blending paintings and illustrations. The story begins with a close-up of Mr. Huber’s intense, shaded face. Text above him reads: “Up until that day, Mr. Huber was a completely normal man.” To the right, a soft-edged panel shows Mr. Huber gently getting out of bed beside his sleeping wife. Caption: “Every morning he would wake up at seven, as quietly as possible, in order not to wake up his wife, because she liked to sleep in.” Beneath that, a series of domestic morning scenes: Mr. Huber drinks his coffee, kisses his eight-year-old son goodbye as the boy prepares for school, and leans toward his six-year-old daughter with a theatrical sigh to say, “Well, next year, it will be you, too.” Next, a panel shows his wife appearing, smiling, as they converse at the table. Caption: “While he was joking with the little one, his wife would appear and always offer pleasant conversation, often of a truly light-hearted and amusing nature.” The next few panels are portraits—one of Mr. Huber in a suit, serious but composed; to his far right is his wife. In the middle, Mr. Huber’s wife sips coffee at the table. Final caption: “Because it was a good marriage, without misunderstandings or quarrels, they had nothing with which they could reproach each other.”
The narration continues the story of Mr. Huber with black-and-white illustrations and collaged paintings. Text boxes narrate his daily routine. It begins with a portrait of Mr. Huber in a suit and tie, expression neutral. Caption: “His work was neither tiring nor did he have much responsibility; he was the manager of a department store of average quality.” To the left, he is seen entering a store along with another man. Above it, a caption says: “At one o’clock he would leave the store to go home.” A scene of a family around a modest dining table follows. Caption: “A simple but tasty lunch would follow; the children sat at the table, charming and well-behaved.” The boy speaks about school, the mother recounts an outing with the youngest child, and Mr. Huber shares mundane department store anecdotes. Portraits accompany each speaker. He mentions a customer interested in a new fashion collection, and a humorous, well-dressed man who wandered in, saying: “Wonderful! My wife will certainly be pleased with me! Thank you kindly, compliments to you!” Next, Huber is seen lounging on a sofa, flipping through a newspaper. Caption: “Then Huber would stretch out on the sofa, pull out the daily newspaper and flip through it for half an hour.” Below, he is politely helping a woman at the shop. She says, “Our sincere thanks, dear lady, please come again.” A large wristwatch illustration marks the time. Caption reads: “Dinner would be around eight o’clock.” Caption: “At two-thirty, he would be back at the shop, where, especially between four and six, there would be a lot to do.”
A theatrical tone shapes this page. At the top, a caption reads: “Every other Saturday they would go to the theater, and sit in the third gallery, third or fourth row.” The scene shows a small figure on stage in mid-performance, arms outstretched, singing: “Mi mi mi miiii! A sweet blossom rests on my bosom!” Mr. Huber and his wife are shown together, with him placing a noose over her neck. He says: “What if I hung you, dear?” A caption notes: “He especially favored operetta, but sometimes he would also enjoy a more serious play.” Below, multiple painted panels depict the couple dressed formally, socializing and dining. “The conclusion of these evenings would always take place in a modest restaurant,” the narrator says. The next panels shift to the children, shown smiling with their caretaker. Caption: “Meanwhile, the children would be in good hands with Miss Wilhelmi until the parents returned.” A formal black-and-white image of the couple follows, with the caption: “So that evening, the Saturday before Whitsunday, the couple was at the theater.” Another panel shows them having dinner afterward. Caption: “And when they went to bed, Mr. Huber was in such a good mood,” followed by his wife's comment: “Come to me, you…” The final panel features them in bed, his wife smiling faintly as the narrator states: “That Anna remarked that he should not confuse her with Ms. Constantin, who had played the starring role that evening and whom he admired so much.”
The scene opens with a close-up of Mr. Huber’s face, his eyes shaded. Caption: “The following morning, like every Sunday, he went out for a short walk.” In the next panel, he stands on a sidewalk under lamplight, chatting with an acquaintance. Caption: “He met a good acquaintance and stopped to chat about the good weather.” The man greets him with, “Josef—How have you been?” and Mr. Huber replies, “I haven’t seen you in ages!” He then crosses a small bridge into a quiet field. Caption: “He crossed the bridge, just as he had one hundred times before, and a vast field spread out before him.” As he walks through a wooded area, his eyes fix on a sign nailed to a tree. Caption: “And his gaze fell upon a roughly carved sign hung on a tree, on which was written in large black, childish handwriting, the word PARK.” A close-up shows his eyes again, more curious this time. Caption: “He couldn’t remember if he had ever seen the sign before.” In the final panel, Mr. Huber stares at the sign, confused but captivated. Caption: “It caught his attention and suddenly he realized that it had always been there; it was obviously a well-worn sign.”
A layered collage of nature imagery takes up the top half of the page. In the first panel, Mr. Huber is walking along a path in the forest, insisting to himself: “Of course this is a park, no doubt about it! Everyone can see that it’s a park!” He continues by saying “It does not differ from its surroundings, and it has no fence, nor is it subject to any special rules; it is a forest and a field and benches and paths.” Mr. Huber remains puzzled: “In any case, it’s completely useless to hang up a sign with the word park.” A woman now speaks contemplatively in the next panel: “But it must have had some meaning. Perhaps there were people who were not as certain as he was that it is a park.” Images shift into more dreamlike visuals—lounging women, soft foliage. Huber speculates: “But it’s a pretty park, wonderful—perhaps some people would have thought that it’s paradise if not for the sign. Oh yes, paradise!” This thought turns toward anxiety. A woman covers herself in a curled posture. Huber continues: “And perhaps, then, some of them might act accordingly—take off their clothes and thus cause public offense.” A text overlay reads: “How was I to know that this was just a park and not paradise!” Next, a close-up of a handwritten sign reads: “For those people, it was certainly necessary to let them know that it’s a PARK.” In the final panel, Huber looks both relieved and righteous. Smiling, the caption reads: “Now there’s no way this could happen anymore! It was thus wholly reasonable to hang up the relevant sign.”
The page opens with a small comic panel an elderly couple speaking with each other. The next panel is of Mr. Huber throwing his head back in laughter, his expression wild and unrestrained. Caption above reads: “Just then an older, portly couple came by and he was laughing so loudly,” followed by, “that they were frightened and they stared at him.” A drawn image of the concerned couple looks on stiffly. A panel shows Mr. Huber sitting alone again, his mood shifting. Caption: “He still had some time so he sat on a bench.” Next, a quieter moment. “Yes, it was most definitely a bench, even though there was no sign,” the narrator confirms. Then, his gaze turns toward a familiar landscape: “And that pond, that well-known pond, was quite certainly a pond, or a small lake, or sea.” An illustration of mayflies appears, labeled “Common Mayfly (Ephemera Vulgata).” The narration continues on: “Yes, it depends on one’s perspective; for the mayfly it was probably a sea. For the mayfly one should hang a sign: POND.” A rough wooden sign that reads “POND” is shown. Final panel shows Mr. Huber’s face, drawn in heavy lines, with hes eyes deeply shadowed, almost as if he were reflecting. The page ends with: “But for the mayfly it was not a pond; what is more, mayflies cannot read. Really, who knows, since we know so damned little about mayflies.”
At the top, a caption reads: “At that moment one flew around him.” A mayfly hovers mid-air as the narrative shifts. Mr. Huber is surrounded by images of mayflies and human figures with insect-like wings — part human, part fly — as if in a celebration. Caption: “It was noon, so the mayfly was already half a day old, or rather fifty years old... after all, by evening it would be dead.” Another caption suggests: “Maybe it was just celebrating its fiftieth birthday.” A swarm of winged figures surrounds Huber. Caption: “And all around him, the other flies swarming about, are congratulating him.” The next panel shows Mr. Huber’s face. Caption: “It seemed to him that he had been sitting there a long time, and he glanced at his watch.” A watch face is shown. Caption: “He had been there only three minutes. Yes, this was certainly a watch...” Then doubt creeps in: “But it could also be that he is dreaming.” A new panel shows Mr. Huber lying asleep in bed, his face peaceful. A woman watches him. Caption: “In that case, it wasn’t a watch, in that case, he is lying in bed and sleeping and the mayfly was also just a dream.” In the next panel, two boys walk by. Huber wonders, “Were they laughing at him? At his stupid ideas?” Then comes self-doubt: “But they could not have known anything about his thoughts.” The final line reads: “That was not so certain; after all, clairvoyants exist.”
The page begins with a boy in dark glasses, seen earlier, looking off to the side. Caption: “It was quite possible that boy with the glasses with tortoise shell frames knew very well what was going on in Huber’s head, and was laughing. It’s debatable whether his laughter was justified, however.” Next, Mr. Huber stands beneath a tree, his expression blank but stiff. Caption: “It was altogether possible that this was all just a dream, and then the laughter of the passersby was a dream, too.” A panel shows him stomping abruptly. Caption: “Suddenly, he decided to stamp his own foot and grabbed his nose as a test.” Another follows: “He felt everything very precisely and took this as proof of his being awake.” But doubt returns. A sign pinned to a tree reads: “However it wasn’t entirely convincing because in the end, even stamping his foot and grabbing his nose could be part of his dream.” Final panel: A close-up of Mr. Huber’s face, the words “BUT FOR THE MOMENT HE FELT SATISFIED.” drawn across his forehead in block lettering.
Mr. Huber walks through a busy town square. Caption: “He went back down the path; at one o’clock was lunchtime.” Suddenly, he begins to run. Caption: “He felt unusually light, and began to run; he literally took off. For split seconds, no part of his body would touch the ground.” A panel shows Huber with large, delicate insect-like wings extending behind him, as if flying through the city. Caption: “Buildings whirled around him. What if he forgot that he lived on Andreasgasse?” He recalls: “Andreasgasse number fourteen, second floor, apartment twelve.” Next, a table of figures appear to be celebrating — one of them a humanoid mayfly with Huber’s face. Caption: “It was one thirty. The mayfly was just celebrating its fifty-fifth birthday.” Below it, a large illustrated mayfly also bears Mr. Huber’s facial features. Caption: “How strange to know all these things. All these things that have their place in one’s head.” Shift to Huber’s thoughts: “He also knew that tomorrow he wanted to be at the department store by 8 am.” Panels of suited men follow, each tied to a caption: “There’s the blue and red striped one,” “There’s the polka-dot one,” “There’s that one with the yellow tinge.” Final narration reads: “He saw them all and he also saw the writing above the display stand. There it was: Ties—even though everyone had to know that they are ties, even without it.”
At the top left, a painted sign nailed to a tree reads: “NOT EVERYONE IS AS PRESENT-MINDED AND SOPHISTICATED AS HE IS TO KNOW, BEYOND A DOUBT, THAT THIS IS A PARK AND THAT THIS IS A TIE.” Next to it, an image of a tree with a small sign nailed to the trunk. The sign shows Mr. Huber’s face. Caption: “How very forward thinking and prudent, then, that there was the sign on the tree with park written on it.” Cut to a different setting: Mr. Huber stands in a kitchen. Caption: “The family sat together at the dining table.” Caption: “He looked very carefully at the objects on the tabletop. Everything was the way it was supposed to be.” The next few captions name each item: “This is a knife, spoon, and plate, and this is a soup bowl.” Mr. Huber appears calm. Caption: “He could tell what everything was. For these objects, all signs would be useless.” In the final panel, he speaks to his family, recounting his story. Tiny figures dance across the bottom of the tablecloth. Caption: “And he told them about the mayfly, who, before his eyes, had gathered a great ensemble together to celebrate its birthday.”
The page begins with a caption floating over a mayfly holding a sign that reads “ENSEMBLE”. Caption reads: “The word ensemble, it seemed to him, lagged uneasily behind in space… He had never said it out loud before. Where did it come from? And where will it disappear again?” Next panel: Mr. Huber sits at a desk, restless. Caption: “In the afternoon he could not sleep.” He has a book open. Text: “He grabbed his notebook.” Narration: “He realized with certainty that it was a notebook, and not, for example, a purse or a snuffbox, and wrote on a sheet of paper:” The page he writes on reads: “WARDROBE, CREDENZA, BED.” Caption layered over this action: “He spent a short while writing.” A panel shows him carefully taping or pinning slips of paper to household furniture. Caption: “And then he attached the slips of paper to the wardrobe and the credenza.” In the final scene, Huber creeps into a dark bedroom, where his wife sleeps. Caption: “He crept into the room while his wife was having an afternoon nap and he attached the slip of paper to the bed without waking her.” Last caption at the bottom of the page: “He left the apartment before she woke up.”
At the top left, a caption reads: “Of course, Mr. Meyer” beside a black-and-white panel of a man sitting on a bench, legs crossed, hat on. To the right, a panel of a man walking with a briefcase. Caption continues: “doesn’t go around.” The next panel to the right shows another man (possibly Mr. Huber) facing left. Caption: “with his name on a sign around his neck.” Below these three panels is a wide caption: “And in this way, he encountered hundreds of people on a daily basis, about whom he didn’t know the slightest thing—where they were from or where they were going, or what their names were.” To the left of the next row is a portrait of a woman looking over her shoulder. Caption: “It could happen that one of them would turn the corner,” To the right, a man collapsed on the sidewalk. Caption: “and just like that, drop dead to the ground.” Further right: “The next day it would be in the newspaper that Mr. Müller, or however he was called, died when he was taking a walk; but Mr. Huber, in this case, would not have had the slightest idea that he met the deceased just five minutes before he died.” Next row begins at lower left with Mr. Huber holding a coffee cup, looking up. Caption: “He looked up.” Center panel shows Miss Magdalena at a cash register. Caption: “Miss Magdalena was minding the cash register.” Next to her: “Yes, that was her name. She sat there, plump, elderly, constantly busy.” Beneath her smiling portrait: “He never had any interest in her in the least.” The final two captions are handwritten in white on black. First: “But suddenly, only because he happened to look at her, her significance overshadowed all else.” Last caption at bottom right: “Inexplicably, this woman to whom he had always been indifferent, suddenly became the most important person. Only because he looked at her.”
The top left of the page reads: “He stopped perceiving everything else. They were just shadows. Even his wife and children almost became nothing in comparison to Miss Magdalena.” To the right, a photo of Miss Magdalena smiling. Caption: “Anyway it was impossible to leave before giving her an appropriate label first.” Further right is a close-up of Mr. Huber looking troubled. Caption: “But what label should he attribute to her?” Beneath Miss Magdalena’s photo, a caption reads: “It calmed him to think that somewhere in the city hung a sign with the word park.” To the far left, a torn slip of paper reads: “MAGDALENA? MISS MAGDALENA? MISS CASHIER?” Center panel shows Huber seated in a dark outdoor space. Caption: “The whole area that he traversed during the day vanished as if behind a heavy curtain.” Below it: “It stopped existing. He took deep breaths when he thought about the wooden park sign.” To the right, a waiter walks away with a cup. Caption: “In the meantime, he finished his black coffee, the waiter deftly collected it, and the naked expanse of the white marble table spread out before him.” Bottom row, center: Huber’s hand places a torn label reading “table.” A caption says: “He took out a pen and wrote in large letters.” On either side of this act: Left: Huber’s side profile and the caption: “That also soothed him.” Right: Another image of Huber, eyes distant, with the final caption: “But how much more remained?”
The top of the page has a long panel of Mr. Huber’s living room in his house. There are two dressers on either side of the couch, and his wife sits on the couch with her legs crossed, and a concerned look on her face. The captions read: “When he came home, all of the paper signs that he had pasted on the furniture were gone. His wife asked him, ‘What were you thinking, Josef?’” A scribbled caption is written on a shadowy picture of Mr. Huber’s eyes. “He felt that he couldn’t explain it to her yet, and said, ‘It was a joke, but a useful one, don’t you think?” An image of Mr. Huber’s children follows, and they are frowning. Mr. Huber continues talking, “The little ones should start getting used to the fact, that everything and every person has its own name.” The images of Mr. Huber’s children have white backgrounds while the images of Mr. Huber have dark backgrounds. Mr. Huber’s daughter looks frightened as he continues to talk: “What incredible chaos rules the world! No one can really find their way around!” The next panel of images show Mr. Huber’s mother in law and sister in law with their faces fully intact, however in the next panel, their faces are gone and there are labels reading “Mother in law” and “Sister in law” respectively. The captions that go with the images read “That afternoon his mother and sister in law came to visit. While they were drinking coffee, he made labels mother-in-law and sister-in-law and attached them to their hats. The women didn’t notice when they were leaving.” The panel on the bottom of the page holds what looks like torn pieces of Mr. Huber’s frightened children with a caption that reads “The next morning he carefully attached labels to his son and daughter’s clothing.”
The panel starts with Mr. Huber’s coworkers talking at work. Both are wearing suits, and his coworker exclaims in a shocked way that at the store Mr. Huber arranged a meeting with the boss and made a proposal. Mr. Huber had said, “We need to place labels everywhere, on the ties, for example, even the colors should be labeled.” The next panel shows a bewildered boss of Mr. Huber’s boss listening to Mr. Huber’s strange words. There is a picture of Mr. Huber’s crazed and sweaty face as he continues to talk, “A grey tie, a red one, there are color-blind customers, after all! Each sales girl should have a label as well.” There is dialogue etched into the background of each panel, repeating the words that Mr. Huber is saying, like they are his coworkers echoing his words in disbelief. Sprinkled down the page are torn pieces of Mr. Huber’s shadowed eyes with scattered writing that reads, “he came home feeling relieved. Because he found signs that for some unclear reason had not been removed from their places.” In the meantime, Mr. Huber’s wife informed the doctor. The last picture appears independently from the rest. Mr. Huber stands up straight with no face, and his wife is standing, looking up at him concerned. He is wearing his suit with a large sign on his chest, labeled “I”. The caption reads, “When the doctor comes, the sick man approaches him with a note on his chest: “I”.

Martha Kuhlman is professor of comparative literature in the Department of History, Literature, and Art at Bryant University where she teaches courses on graphic narrative, Central European literature, and creativity. She coedited two books, The Comics of Chris Ware: Drawing is a Way of Thinking (University Press of Mississippi, 2010) and Comics of the New Europe (Leuven University Press, 2020). In addition to her academic work, she earned a certificate from the Sequential Arts Workshop, an international online school for comics. She creates, reviews, and translates comics (from Czech to English).

Vojtěch Mašek is the author and illustrator of a dozen graphic novels, including Elephants in Marienbad, Look for Doc. Woman in Everything, Pandemonium, St. Barbora, Sisters Dietl, The Dragon Never Sleeps, and more. Most of these were awarded the Muriel Prize of the Czech comic festival KomiksFEST! for best story or best graphic novel. He has also written many screenplays: the feature film Tomík (1999); the short Fricassé (2003), which was selected as Quinzaine des réalisateurs in the International Film Festival in Cannes; the short I’m Bigger and Stronger (2007), cowritten with Džian Baban and nominated by the Oscars for a Student Academy Award; and Little Crusader (2017), cowritten with Jiří Soukup and awarded a Crystal Globe for Best feature film in the 52nd International Film Festival in Karlovy Vary. He is also the author of three plays: Off Record (cowritten with Ivana Uhlířová), Black Honey and Fred Brunold’s Monster Cabaret (cowritten with Džian Baban), and a theater comedy series, Jožkalipnikjebožíčlověkaneumílhát! (cowritten with Džian Baban). 

Džian Baban is a writer and musician. Most of his work was cowritten with Vojtěch Mašek, including the graphic novels Elephants in Marienbad, Look for Doc. Woman in Everything, The Dragon Never Sleeps, and In the Shadow of Bohemian Forest. Between 2004 and 2015 their graphic novels, comic strips, and short stories were awarded the Muriel Prize for best Czech comics story or best Czech comics book, and Baban and Mašek represented Czech comics authors at the 2015 Bucheon International Comics Festival in South Korea. Apart from writing graphic novels and theater comedy series, Baban also wrote screenplays for several short films, and in 2007, his work I'm Bigger and Stronger, cowritten with Mašek and directed by Martin Duda, was nominated by the Oscars for a Student Academy Award. Baban also collaborated on experimental, videoart films with respected Czech visual artist and film director Adela Babanova, Baban´s sister. Their films were screened at different international exhibitions and festivals, and in 2018 they premiered their medium-length feature film Operation Neptune.

FROM Volume 74, Numbers 1 & 2

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Issue 74.1-2, Spring 2025

Stop Making Sense: An introduction to “I”

Comic in Translation by Martha Kuhlman
Issue 74.1-2, Spring 2025

Stop Making Sense: An introduction to “I”

Comic in Translation by Martha Kuhlman