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Un-Drawn Experience: Visualizing Trauma in Aleksandar Zografs Regards from Serbia

The autobiographical comics of Aleksandar Zograf, collected (along with his emails and

brief contributions by Terry Jones and Chris Ware) in the anthology Regards from Serbia, depict

life in Serbia from the beginning of the Croatian War of Independence to the aftermath of the

1999 NATO bombing of Yugoslavia. Zograf represents his experiences in part through surrealist

images, metatextual references to other works of cartooning and the very act of artistic

representation, and depictions of characters views of the world around them. These methods of

illustration reflect the trauma of Zografs past: just as Cathy Caruth argues in her landmark book

Unclaimed Experience: Trauma, Narrative, and History (the inspiration for my essays title) that

questions regarding trauma can never be asked in a straightforward way but must, indeed, also

be spoken in a language that is always somehow literary, the levels of mediation in Zografs

comics reflect the challenges posed by more straightforward depictions of traumatic experience

(5). Although Zografs representation of wartime Serbia is, in fact, quite the opposite of being

un-drawn, he couches his memoirs in illustrative layers facilitating the artistic rendering of the

horrors of Serbian life in the nineties.

Theories of both cartooning and trauma facilitate my reading of Zografs work. Picking

up from Caruth, theorists of trauma and literature such as Eugene L. Arva and Dominick

LaCapra argue that ignoring the standards of realism can allow authors and artists to depict their

traumatic experiences. Cartoonists praxis of such depiction can be understood using the work of

comics scholars such as Charles Hatfield and Hillary Chute, who describe the particular capacity

of comics as a medium for self-representation and the depiction of trauma, respectively. Regards

from Serbia exemplifies their arguments and those of Arva and LaCapra (among others) through
 !2

the evocative portrait of wartime Serbia captured in its illustrated transcendances of realist

norms. I argue that Zografs depictions of characters subjective visualizations of Serbian life, the

role of art in mediating everyday experiences, and surrealistic imagery in Regards from Serbia

convey the power of depicting trauma in the mixed media form of comics.

Perspective Drawn

One method of traumatic depiction can be seen in Zografs representations of his and

other characters subjectivities. This is perhaps the most obvious way to introduce imagery not

conforming to the demands of realism within a narrative set in a real-world milieu, as the images

can be explained through the characters perspectives. Stija Vervaet sees the question of how to

represent such perspectives, whether through the visualization of subjectivity or otherwise, as a

central issue of Zografs work: The traumatic experience Zografs avatar must work through is

related not to the past but to the nightmarish present, yet the question remains how to render

visible this experience (168). Indeed, a primary way in which Zograf shows such working

through is through the explicit explanation of surreal images as imagery existing within

characters heads.

The most frequent depiction of Zografs subjectivity occurs in the drawings of the

dreams of his cartoon equivalent (subsequently referred to as Aleksandar), which frequently

concern animals or animal-like creatures. In an interview with Tom Spurgeon, Zograf describes

his comics as depicting Serbia in the nineties as reflected through the mind of a dreamy and

half-witted person such as myself, and this reflection can be seen throughout the literal

dreaminess of Regards from Serbia. The books first panel contains a caption in which Zograf

writes, I wake up with the memory of a frog-like image I saw while in a half-dream state,
 !3

accompanied by an image of a persons body with a frogs head on top (11). A later caption

describes a large and mean dog-like animal being attacked by Zograf and his father with

knives and forks, and the corresponding drawing, accordingly, shows a snarling creature with

utensils sticking out of his body (66). Animals also show up in Zografs dreams in a panel he

identifies as showing a vivid dream about a dinosaur, a caption Zograf pairs with an image of

Aleksandar sleeping and a thought balloon showing his dream avatar watching the creature

(240). The repetitiveness of these panels suggests a need to authenticate the oneiric visions:

whereas more realist imagery would perhaps be accepted by the reader more readily, the

redundancy between the captions and drawings indicates a desire to verify the images veracity.

But even without the repetition, Zograf makes clear that he shows his experience of Serbia in

part through drawings of his dreams.

Yet Zograf does not confine himself to depicting his own dreams, also showing those of

others. As an unnamed woman wakes up her husband to pick up bread, he dreams of a lizard-like

creature with a smaller, similar creature in its mouth (24). In another panel, the caption likens

war to a huge monster, which Zograf illustrates with a man dreaming of the face of a similar

fantastical beast (54). Mythical creatures once again factor into dreams, even as Zograf illustrates

the visions of people other than himself. But unlike the close correlation between caption and

image in Zografs drawings of his own dreams, here the words and visuals have a looser

relationship. The first dreams text contains no suggestion of the accompanying image, and the

second dreams text references the monster but suggests it to be merely metaphorical. Zograf

thereby shows more trepidation in depicting the dreams of others, as the lack of repetition

suggests less certainty about the images than he shows in the drawings of his own visions. Yet
 !4

the use of oneiric imagery still shows Zograf turning to dreams to capture the difficulty of

Serbian life.

Zografs depiction of dreamlike images can likewise be seen in his drawings of waking

visions. Next to a caption in which Zograf describes his mind wandering into strangest

dimensions, a thought balloon next to Aleksandar shows a man with long and flexible limbs

enclosing two shaded, ominous figures and a man with a long tongue sticking out of his mouth

(181). Zograf likewise describes his thoughts as still wandering in a later panel, in which the

body of a grinning, dark creature appears to be attached to Aleksandars head (233). Earlier on,

Aleksandar states, Visions have to be materialized, and an adjacent thought balloon depicts a

mischievous-looking pig; a mans head with a bird on top poking his eyes out; and an image of

three skinny, limbless figures (22). As with the dreams, the specific content of these waking

visions does not matter as much as their overall absurdity: realism fails to capture the feelings

Zograf attempts to depict here. Instead, he turns to surrealistic imagery to express himself,

transcending realist boundaries to capture the pain of wartime experience.

The subjective imagery at times presents opportunities for escape from the harsh realities

of life in Serbia. In one panel, Aleksandar appears to come up with a solution to his woes: But I

know what Im going to do! Im going to think positive! Yes! Im going to continue to think

about my imaginary world! (169) A thought balloon in the following panel shows him

envisioning goblin-like creatures balancing on each others heads, arms, and palms. The reality

in this country is so overwhelmingI need a break! I want to think about something different,

about some other world, Aleksandar says in a comparable splash panel (251). This text

accompanies an image containing a sun with a face, two winged creatures, and a shadowy figure
 !5

holding two identical men on his palms. Both of these drawings, in conjunction with their text,

show the fantastical visions as ways for Aleksandar to momentarily escape his wartime

surroundings. Here, going beyond realism allows Zograf to show a way in which he deals with

the horrors of trauma.

But the depictions of characters subjectivities also capture their dark pessimism about

their existences. Zograf describes a famous painter who was prophesizing that the whole world

will be destructed in just 15 minutes by some giant tectonic catastrophy [sic] (48). In the images

that follow, Zograf shows people and vehicles falling into a chasm in the ground, with the caustic

addendum that the Serbs familiarity with suffering would allow them to survive. A similar

panels caption reads, I was thinking about us all disappearing one day into a big hole in the

ground, accompanied by a drawing of people plummeting without a clear endpoint (213). These

illustrations of psychological visions show Zograf turning away from realistic depictions of

traumatic experience to embrace even darker imaginings. The suffering depicted differs from the

real violence of nineties Serbia, providing a means for Zograf to illustrate his pain without

precisely rendering the world around him.

The pessimistic imagery works in tandem with the optimistic depictions of subjectivity to

show the range of perspectives people can have on wartime life. Some images provide a much-

needed escape from Serbian life, whereas others present even more terrifying, apocalyptic

visions. Yet in all of the previously discussed drawings, Zograf captures the trauma of his past by

showing the ways in which Aleksandar and others visualize an existence removed from Serbian

reality. As Regards from Serbia shows, these visualizations can take the form of cheerful fantasy,

violent nightmares, and the unclassifiably bizarre. In any case, they capture Zografs illustration
 !6

of his experience not within the confines of realism, but through the subjective images of him

and his fellow Serbians.

Panelling Pain

Theories of how comics can represent lived experience, and specifically experiences of

trauma, help to elucidate the power of Zografs work. Critics such as Hatfield and Chute, among

others, argue that comics has a particular capacity to facilitate cartoonists self-representation,

particularly amidst historical strife. In the following section, I will illustrate how the work of a

few comics theorists illuminates Zografs methods of depicting his traumatic past.

According to Hatfield, comics allow cartoonists to interrogate notions of truth and

objectivity in the representation of their experience, which can be seen throughout Zografs

drawings of his and others subjectivities. Hatfield uses the term ironic authentication to

describe one way in comics depict lives, in that narratives get closer to authentic representation

through a clear lack of engagement with objective perspectives (125). Hatfield suggests that

comics is a particularly adept medium for ironic authentication of self-representation, since in

the breakdowns of comics we see the self (in action over a span of time) represented by multiple

selves (126). Therein lies what Hatfield sees as the potential for radical cultural argument in

the medium of comics (114). Such potential can be seen through both the multiplicity of Zografs

drawings and his rejection of objectivity. The multiple Aleksandars throughout Regards from

Serbia resist the any sense that Zograf can be captured through a singular avatar. Zografs

embrace of subjectivity demonstrates ironic authentication, as he more thoroughly approaches a

genuine depiction of Serbian life by drawing the imaginings of himself and other Serbians rather

than attempting to show realistically the horrors of wartime trauma.

 !7

In fact, the self-representative capacities of comics particularly facilitate representations

of trauma, as Zografs work exemplifies. Chute argues that comics formal features are

conducive to the depiction of traumatic experience: Lines on the page, in how they juxtapose

time and space, convey the simultaneity of experiencethe different competing registersso

often a feature of traumatic experience, such as the concomitant presence and absence of

memory, consciousness, agency, and affect (262). Zografs lines, in their representations of

subjectivity, capture both his memory of nineties Serbia and his decision not to represent it

through more objective methods. The illustration of lived experience throughout Regards from

Serbia also exemplifies Chutes description of comics recording facts while also questioning the

very project of what it means to document, to archive, to inscribe, an idea similar to Hatfields

reference to ironic authentication (7). Zografs reliance on subjectivity suggests it to be perhaps

the most authentic method of documentation for wartime trauma.

Thus, realism does not necessarily best capture experiences of war, as Zografs work

demonstrates, and comics is a particularly effective medium for working outside realist modes.

As per Jeff Adams, the lack of a finite resolution, and equivocation, that arises from the

juxtaposition of image narrative with text narrative in comics in part accounts for the numerous

autobiographical comics depicting historical experiences of trauma (67-68). Such experiences

are arguably better captured through the uncertainty of comics mixed media than the relative

determinism of more singular forms. Adams suggests that the spatial image creation of comics

evokes the presence of the event or moment that once was (59). Zografs evocation occurs not

through realistic depiction of nineties Serbia, but rather representation of the subjectivities of

himself and other Serbians. These depictions evoke the presence of their historical experience.
 !8

Such depictions function through the work of both the cartoonist and the reader. Simon

Grennan, in an interpretation of comics readership echoing the concerns of reader-response

criticism, notes that a readers understanding of a given comic results in part from her

interpretation (70). Thus, comics embody subjectivity through the efforts of the artist and her

audience in conjunction with one another (71). Regards from Serbia calls attention to such

embodiment through Zografs explicit embrace of subjectivity: Zograf depicts not the literal

world around him, but the subjective experiences of those inhabiting that world. In doing so,

Zograf demonstrates the aptness of comics for capturing such experiences.

Comics on Comics

Zograf also depicts his experiences through metatextual self-awareness and intertextual

references, working in the vein of cartoonists, such as Art Spiegelman and Chris Ware (to cite

two of the most famous examples), who call attention to the traditions and formal lineages of

comics in their work. Zograf highlights the conditions of self-representation in comics

throughout Regards from Serbia, and these conditions are in part specific to his Serbian identity.

Like the explicit depiction of subjectivity, metatextuality functions as a means for the depiction

of trauma.

A primary example of metatextuality can be seen in Zografs references to animation, the

significance of which he explains in one of the many emails to friends collected in the book.

Zograf writes about his confusion over the plethora of humorous animation produced during

World War II: I was always puzzled by the fact that some of the craziest, funniest ever cartoons

were produced exactly during one of the bleakest moments in the history of the human

kind (120). Understandably, Zograf sees a disconnect between the horror of war and the humor
 !9

it facilitates. Yet his own experience of wartime allows him to understand their connection: But

now, during the big turmoil in my country at the end of the 20th century, I can understand that

the very bleakness of the situation is producing a great need for humor, and perhaps it is a natural

reaction (120). In spite of his initial confusion, Zograf reacts to bleakness in a similar way.

In the comics, Zograf illustrates the sentiment expressed in the e-mails. In an early panel,

Aleksandar watches a cartoon wolf with bulging eyes on TV while a thought balloon captures his

reaction: Look at that Tex Avery cartoon, made during the Second World War. Great humor,

despite being created during such troubled times (11). Here, Zograf merely watches the cartoon,

but in a later strip, he draws iconic cartoon characters caught in some of situations he sees around

him (188). For example, atop a caption reading, This really happened in Belgrade, Zograf

draws a tearful Tom and Jerry looking at their house with an unexploded bomb sticking out of it

(188). In another sarcastic caption, Zograf writes, A part of an unexploded projectile is still

visible to the swimmers and the tourists visiting the idyllic Duckburg Lake, and the words adorn

an image of anthropomorphic ducks swimming in a lake alongside a bomb (188). As in Zografs

email, Aleksandar initially struggles to understand how artists can react to war with comedy. But

like the artists themselves, Zograf comes to see and demonstrate the power of using cartoonish

humor to depict painful experiences.

Zograf particularly emphasizes the significance of Disney animation in Serbian life. The

ducks are strongly reminiscent of Disney duck characters, and Zograf explains that the similarity

is no coincidence: It is even announced that in November Walt Disney Company will start to

license their products to Serbia again (62). In the panel sharing this caption, two characters

similar to Mickey Mouse stand outside Aleksandars window, and a vase next to him is shaped
 !10

like a mouses head on top (62). In the following panel, a sleeping Aleksandar dreams of Donald

Duck (62). Prior to this, Zograf explains that Serbian cartoonists in the 1930s would draw Disney

characters in Serbian settings, and that that local newspapers published Mickey Mouse strips

even under the strictest Communist control (33). Zograf participates in his own version of this

tradition through his comics, in which the characters inhabit his dream-like representations of the

world. He identifies this depiction as bizarre in another panel, in which Aleksandar dreams of a

fearful-looking Mickey climbing a tree and clinging to its branches (224). Like the World War II-

era animators, Zograf reacts to dark situations with the levity of cartoon animals. Zografs

references to animation gain further significance through his Serbian nationality due to the

importance of Disneys work in Serbia. Zograf reacts to his wartime experience with these

characters.

However, Zografs cartooning points of reference clearly go far beyond Disney, as can be

seen in his depiction of his own artistry. Aleksandar dreams of the legendary comix artist R.

Crumb, who tells him, Dont believe everything you see (176). Later in the book, Zograf likens

Serbian paramilitary leader eljko Ranatovi to a disturbing omnipotent baby-faced character

from R. Crumbs comics, then imitates a Crumb panel next to the text (204). Although Zograf

foregrounds the importance of Disney cartoons in Serbian culture, he also credits underground

comix, which are perhaps a more evident influence on his style. Zograf constantly highlights the

development of this style, such as in a panel where Aleksandar draws a strip and the

accompanying text reads, its a pleasure to return to my inner world (13). In a later panel,

Zograf cites the role of comics in Aleksandars way of seeing, as a thought balloon next to him

walking down a street reads, I saw a complete comic book in my dream last night Wish I
 !11

remembered it too (23). An adjacent thought balloon shows Aleksandar envisioning a series of

panels (23). Thus, Zograf indicates the artistic influences facilitating the representation of

Serbian life in Regards from Serbia.

Aside from his own art, Zograf also shows others attempting to reconcile with the

challenge of depicting wartime through artistic expression, furthering the range of his

metatextuality. In a strip showing two artists side by side, one thriving and one lacking in will

and life energy, Zograf captures two different cartoonists reactions to the situation of wartime

Serbia (27). Zograf also illustrates the different ways in which artists depict their surroundings,

such as in his drawing of an artist who became more realistic during the hard times, and who

looks at a surrealistic work (showing a man biting a bizarre-looking growth on another mans

face) hanging on his wall while creating a more conventional image of a human face (45). This

artist appears to have an approach to depicting war opposite to Zograf, who thereby shows a

spectrum of artistic reactions to the violence in Serbia. He also looks beyond artists, describing

children as gifted in expressing their own unique ideas, accompanied by a chalk drawing of a

large-headed figure in the middle of a street (50). Zograf thereby shows how a variety of people

use art as a means for expressing the trauma of living through wartime Serbia.

Yet although Zograf and other artists mediate their representations, Regards from Serbia

also emphasizes the fundamental challenge of artistically representing traumatic experiences. In

another panel showing Aleksandar drawing, he asks, Where is this leading to? followed by a

panel of him ripping the drawings in half (22). Similarly, Aleksandar loses patience with his art

in another panel, in which he cries, What the hell am I doing? This comic wasnt supposed to be

funny while angrily jabbing his pen against the page (58). Although Zograf does suggest humor
 !12

to be a means of coping with painful experiences, the comedy here appears to have gotten out of

Aleksandars control. Thus, just as Zograf shows people using their fantasies for visions of both

optimism and destruction, Regards from Serbia captures people expressing themselves through

art as well as its self-expressive limitations. Comics facilitate Zografs depiction of trauma, but

he emphasizes that people represent their pain in different ways, and that not all traumatic

experiences can be captured in comics.

Expressing Trauma

Theories of trauma suggest possible interpretations of Zografs various methods for

depicting his traumatic experiences. As I have shown in my discussion of metatextuality and

illustrations of subjectivity in Regards from Serbia, Zograf frequently presents his

representations of Serbian life through a series of mediations. These mediations align with the

work of theorists such as Caruth and Laurie Vickroy, who discuss the challenge traumatized

victims face in expressing their pasts and the various means through which they do so.

Zografs representation of trauma can perhaps best be understood through Caruths work.

Caruth refers to trauma as the story of a wound that cries out, that addresses us in the attempt to

tell us of a reality or truth that is not otherwise available (4). Traumatic experience thereby is a

crisis that is marked, not by a simple knowledge, but by the ways it simultaneously defies and

demands our witness (5). Regards from Serbia exemplifies this simultaneity and its connection

with the wound Caruth describes. The decision to forgo realism epitomizes traumas

unavailability: Zograf does not present readers with an objective representation of his

experience. Instead, the layers of Zografs depictions demonstrate the challenges of presenting
 !13

more direct testimony of trauma. At the same time, Zografs absorbing ways of depicting his past

demand our attention in the manner Caruth suggests while avoiding realist representation.

As a result of the obscurity of the reality of trauma, many turn to surrealism to depict

their experiences. Arva introduces the term traumatic imagination to describe authors use of

the imagery of magical realism to illustrate their trauma (5). Such imagery can be seen in

Zografs references to animation and in his drawings of peoples visions, both of which present

surreal images as part of everyday existence. Arva argues that textual products of the traumatic

imagination should be thought of not as an escape from horrific historical facts or as a

distortion meant to make them more cognitively or emotionally palatable but rather as one of the

most effective means of re-creating, transmitting, and ultimately coping with painful traumatic

memories (5-6). Accordingly, Zograf does not distort his trauma, but instead presents it through

methods helping him to cope with the pain. Regards from Serbia depicts wartime Serbia for

readers who have not lived through it by illustrating the experience through peoples

subjectivities and metatextual self-awareness.

Zografs deviations from realist depiction epitomize what Michael Rothberg calls

traumatic realism. As Rothberg points out, texts can work towards the aims of realism while at

the same time defying categorization as realist (99). Rothberg suggests that works of traumatic

realism share realisms desire for some kind of reference and some kind of narrative while also

demonstrating a form of documentation beyond direct reference and coherent narrative (101).

Regard from Serbia exemplifies such documentation through Zografs recurring use of

fantastical imagery to capture Serbian life. Although Zograf populates his comics with specific

references to real people, places, and events, he also obscures the specificity through images
 !14

such as the appearance of Tom and Jerry in his drawing of a bomb in a house (188). Zograf

thereby disturbs the ostensible coherence of the world of his comics, but this disturbance can be

understood as an example of traumatic realism.

Towards Surrealism

While some imagery in Regards from Serbia can be explained through characters

subjectivities or metatextuality, other drawings cannot be rationalized as easily. Throughout the

book, Zograf presents wholly surreal images; unlike the previous aspects of the book I have

discussed, these images are not presented as the products of artistic fancy or peoples

imaginations. In another email, Zograf indicates a possible rationale for such illustrations: The

very sight of old monastery surrounded by oil refinery [sic] is one of the more surrealistic sights

that you can see anywhere. Bombs exploding around it makes it even more unreal (110). In the

final section of my essay, I will explore Zografs methods of capturing this unreality.

For example, Zograf uses surrealism to depict poverty in nineties Serbia. A caption reads,

Your money is worthless the very next day, and adjacent panels underneath it show Aleksandar

scratching his head with one hand while holding dollar bills in front of a smiling, demon-like

creature and grinning while holding the money in front of the angry creature, respectively (23).

Text in a circular panel reads, During the night, desperate people stole crops from the farms

around this area, and the accompanying image shows a man hovering covetously over a tree

small enough to fit in his hands (44). David A. Norris describes inflation statistics from Belgrade

during the period as barely believable; accordingly, Zograf depicts the economys effects on

people using fantastical imagery (162). Zograf shows the nearly incomprehensible situation not
 !15

through realistic representations of peoples suffering, but through surreal images suggesting the

very inaccessibility of their pain.

Given the violence in Serbia, it is perhaps unsurprising that Zograf also depicts violent

acts through surrealistic imagery. In one such panel, two bald men pointing at one another say

Alright, go and kill (their two speech balloons mirror each other), and pairs of identically

dressed figures between them fight one another in ostensible response to the orders (17). In a

similar panel, Zograf writes, Finally, everybody was involved in some kind of confrontation,

while the overall conditions were bad for all, and the adjacent images show pairs of people

fighting one another, including two white creatures standing on their legs with their faces pressed

together (52). Zograf again represents national conflict as occurring between individuals in a

panel with three men flying through space in a circle and all aiming guns at one another, with a

caption reading, Meanwhile, three nations were fighting each other, while trying to form their

cute little national states (39). While these images could be seen as trivializing the conflict, they

also show its implications for disputes between individuals. Furthermore, in the case of the

people in space and the mysterious creatures, Zograf depicts the violence not with the visual

language of rationality, but with images evoking the incomprehensibility of war. This evocation

suggests the experience of trauma without directly showing the events causing it.

Zograf focuses on a particular act of violence prevalent in nineties Serbia: bombing.

Zograf describes NATO bombs as intelligent, smart (171). In the accompanying image, a

smiling Alekasandar rubs an anthropomorphized bomb, which has glasses and an open mouth

(171). Anthropomorphic bombs, which also get described as cute and friendly, decent,

pervade the page, accompanied by people clamoring for their arrival as they fall from the sky
 !16

(171). Zografs corrosive humor mocks the bombings deadliness, as does the sardonic

anthropomorphism. He again mocks the bombs in a later panel, which shows a bomb colliding

with the head of a cheerful civilian (210). Although Zograf does not depict the bombings through

realism, the irony in the fantastical imagery captures his attempt to cope with their destruction.

His jokes further suggest a removal from the events, which nonetheless come through in the

violence being represented.

Zograf also uses surrealism to capture the death he experiences. After writing about the

passing of his friend Ivana Felba from multiple sclerosis, he draws her flying through space with

wings on her back. In the accompanying text, he describes her funeral being interrupted by a

blackout, then says, I guess she was laughing at it all, somewhere (246). Zograf likewise

depicts a form of afterlife in a later panel, in which he writes, Maybe just this one time, a grand

finale is going to turn into a giant party of a sort? Ha ha, everybody would be surprised (254).

The image below the caption features celestial imagery, with baby angels blowing bugles and

holding floral bouquets. Zograf shows more optimism in these images, as he envisions an

afterlife for the many casualties in Serbia in the nineties (although Felba does not die in the

conflict, she nonetheless exemplifies Zograf attempting to reconcile with death). But, like

Zografs attempts to work through his pain, the optimism comes through the mediation of

surrealistic imagery.

Surrealism perhaps best captures the fundamental disarray Zograf experiences as a result

of the trauma of Serbian life. Zograf describes the international blame being directed towards

Serbia as a mess, then illustrates the mess as fingers pointing at one of three heads lying on a

single body (21). In another panel, Zograf refers to confused and bewildered people [who]
 !17

found their comfort in following their national leaders, followed by an image of a large,

mysterious figure coveting a crowd of tiny people in his arms (38). Both of these images

illustrate the confusion and disorder in Serbia in the nineties, but through drawings merely

alluding to rather than directly depicting the causes of the confusion. Zograf most explicitly

draws his own bewilderment in successive panels showing Aleksandar discussing the pros and

cons of staying in Serbia with human-like figures with the heads of a bird, sheep, and horse,

respectively (49). Aleksandar struggles with the decision of whether or not to leave, and the

absurdity of the animal-headed people calls attention to the difficulty of making sense of the

situation. Zograf illustrates this difficulty and the subsequent trauma through his surreal images.

These images go beyond the boundaries of realism to capture Zografs feeling of being in

wartime Serbia. Although Zograf often marks his drawings as being imagined visions of Serbian

life through references to the people imagining them, the artistic methods used to create them,

and less easily rationalized surrealism, the imaginations nonetheless nonetheless illustrate the

reality of traumatic experience. The fancy of these images contrasts with the relatively

unadorned text, suggesting the failure of words to capture the capture the physical, emotional,

and psychological violence Zograf witnesses and the relative abilities of visual art. This contrast,

like Regards from Serbia as a whole, illustrates the capacity of comics to capture the affect of

trauma.
 !18

Works Cited

Adams, Jeff. Documentary Graphic Novels and Social Realism. Oxford, Peter Lang AG, 2008.

Arva, Eugene L. The Traumatic Imagination: Histories of Violence in Magical Realist Fiction.

Amherst, NY, Cambria Press, 2011.

Caruth, Cathy. Unclaimed Experience: Trauma, Narrative, and History. Baltimore, MD, Johns

Hopkins University Press, 2016.

Chute, Hillary L. Disaster Drawn: Visual Witness, Comics, and Documentary Form. Cambridge,

MA, Harvard University Press, 2016.

Grennan, Simon. Recognition and Resemblance: Facture, Imagination and Ideology in

Depictions of Cultural and National Difference. Representing Multiculturalism in

Comics and Graphic Novels, edited by Carolene Ayaka and Ian Hague, Routledge, New

York, NY, 2015, pp. 6982.

Hatfield, Charles. Alternative Comics: An Emerging Literature. Jackson, MS, University Press of

Mississippi, 2005.

Norris, David A. Belgrade: A Cultural History. Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2009.

Rothberg, Michael. Traumatic Realism: The Demands of Holocaust Representation.

Minneapolis, MN, University of Minnesota Press, 2006.

Spurgeon, Tom. A Short Interview with Aleksandar Zograf. The Comics Reporter, Tom

Spurgeon, 7 Jan. 2007, www.comicsreporter.com/index.php/resources/interviews/7202/.

Vervaet, Stijn. A Different Kind of War Story: Aleksandar Zografs Regards from Serbia and

Toma Lavris Bosnian Fables. The Slavic and East European Journal, vol. 55, no. 2,

2011, pp. 161187. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/23347736.

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Vickroy, Laurie. Trauma and Survival in Contemporary Fiction. Charlottesville, VA, University

of Virginia Press, 2002.

Zograf, Aleksandar. Regards from Serbia. Atlanta, GA, Top Shelf, 2007.