As the World Burns

 

It's virtually impossible to review Derrick Jensen and Stephanie McMillan's As The World Burns: 50 Simple Things You Can Do To Stay in Denial without delving into the question of their radical politics. The gleefully revolutionary book is the first original graphic novel to be released by New York-based political publisher Seven Stories Press, best-known for their release of Noam Chomsky's 9-11.

 

 

The basic premise of the book is that well-meaning liberals are placating themselves by doing little, meaningless things for the environment and thereby excusing themselves from the social obligation to make serious change, and avoiding the harder questions like what role corporate power plays in environmental policy-making.

 

 

The strength of the book is that it breaks through some of the fundamental lies we tell ourselves about "making the world better" by shutting off the overhead light and changing to low-flow shower heads, while we sit at home watching TV with a laptop running on our laps and a power plant burning through thousands of gallons of water to keep the electric on.

 

 

The weakness of the book, is that it's mean. In the political atmosphere created by Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth, where even John McCain and the Republicans are willing to grant the basic premise of global warming (cleverly re-branded as "climate change"), As The World Burns demands serious, meaningful social change instead of the token gestures that average Americans make on a day-to-day basis--with apparently very little understanding that the two go hand-in-hand.

 

 

"I don't think that's going to hold things back because people realize how messed up the system is," Derrick Jensen says of the book's revolutionary politics and how it affects his appeal. "I used to teach at Eastern Washington University, which is a pretty conservative school, and when I asked students there if the government cared more about corporations than individuals they would laugh. Of course they do! I only had one student the whole time I was teaching who said no, and he carried a picture of Ronald Reagan in his wallet. There's this big split between our public and private discourse that we all know things are set up for the rich."

 

 

Still, to discourage well-meaning people who are afraid of change and want to start slow is unlikely to force them into drastic action. It will simply ensure that they go back to their old ways and expect politicians and scientists to "figure it out" for them. This is one of, if not the, central problem faced by political extremists who don't realize their views are frightening to the mainstream. Environmentalists are particularly vulnerable to this, since in many cases the problems they're trying to fight cannot be seen with the naked eye.

 

 

The choice of McMillan as artist on the book is a questionable one--best known for her political webcomics, McMillan's style is reminiscent of a children's book. It's both simple and simplistic, and while it makes sense on a short deadline such as is allowed for daily or weekly strips, in a graphic novel it seems a little out of place. It's TOO unfinished, and leaves the impression of a series of comic strips as opposed to a cohesive narrative. Her panel structure and understanding of sequential narrative is also a bit simple--again, it betrays her roots as a strip cartoonist. Her style, especially in black and white, creates a look of cheapness, and as often as not it seems likely that the average bookstore patron will open the book, flip through it and close it again. In a book that's long on contemplative monologues and preachy diatribes, it's important that the readers feel at home when looking at the page, and As The World Burns fails in that area.

 

 

Not surprisingly, their relationship began out of mutual admiration for one another's previous political work, and the graphic novel grew out of the desire to work together: "The way we first met is that she wrote to me and said how much she loved my work and then that introduced me to her work, and I wrote back and said 'My God, your stuff's great,'" Jensen says. "We started a correspondence and a friendship and we've got a whole bunch of plans. She's a dream to work with--I've collaborated with a lot of people, she was one of the easiest ever. It was all very positive and we didn't have many disagreements at all. Her politics are very radical, very revolutionary going way back, and so we just said, 'Let's do a graphic novel together, and what are we going to do it about?' The sort of jumping-off point was Al Gore's movie and how all the solutions that he presents completely ignore corporate power."

 

 

Jensen says that he and McMillan have a book planned that's a sort of parody of Little Nemo in Slumberland, where the protagonist is having all sorts of hallucinations of possible future scenarios and dystopian fanasies, and then at the end of the book you would find out that he's actually a freedom fighter being held in solitary confinement.

 

 

There are times when the book finds a coherent, relatable vision. It consistently strives to bring the point around to the fact that while most "solutions" offered to everyday Americans for environmental "crises" are supported by the very industries that are creating (or at least contributing substantially to) the problems in the first place. Pointing the finger at GE's awful environmental policies, after all, is totally appropriate when they stand to gain from the "low-emission" light bulbs which are currently so in vogue. It's an important conflict to bring to light.

 

 

Jensen explains, "Something I routinely say in all my talks is that if space aliens were doing what the dominant culture is doing, we would fight back but because it's 'our' government, we all the sudden get really stupid." He also says that he and McMillan may have the chance to fight Al Gore on his own terms--Jensen says that "someone who is actually fairly big" has expressed interest in adapting As The World Burns into a feature film.

 

 

But the fact that the book discusses bombing animal-testing labs and cutting off the water supply to factories as semiserious alternative measures. To incite social revolution, it's necessary to first build a convincing enough argument that your reader feels revolution is the only option. Instead, As The World Burns begins by most of the audience and proceeds to become so extreme that any chances of converting those who don't already agree are quickly lost.

 

 

Still, the basic premise of the book is strong and the execution is impassioned and well-researched. And speaking as someone with experience in extremist politics, I can relate to the constant drumbeat of characters being told "you're too negative" instead of encouraged to question the corporate media's and government's lines and lies.

 

 

"Evertyhing in this culture tries to pacify us," Jensen says. "I mean that both in the pacify our child sense and in the sense of a village in Vietnam being pacified--being knocked down so hard that it can't get up. Everything in the culture is telling us 'Go back to sleep, it's ok. There's going to be lots of smiling faces on TV for you tonight.' And if you break out, there's a couple things--there's this fear that people have that if you recognize how bad things are you have to go on being miserable all the time, which is of course not true. It's actually quite liberating."

 

 

Ironically, Jensen says the character who originally served the purpose of the dupe, makes a turnaround while many of the ostensibly wiser people around her do not: "Bananabel was created to be that character whose heart is really good but she really loves her shoes. Her heart is so in the right place but she just can't think too negatively. Both of us were very pleased with the transition that Bananabel goes through throughout the book. In a traditional novel sense, she would be the main character. I love the sequence when they're both in jail and she gives the long speech that ends with 'We've got to bust out of this joint,' because that's the moment where she's changed."

 

 

The heart of the book, the point where everything changes for the characters, is when a visit to the psychiatrist ends up with the central characters being thrown into detention.  The psychiatrist, who is obviously well-meaning but blissfully ignorant of his own role in making the world a worse place to live, is described by Jensen as being the narrator from the song "Love Me, I'm a Liberal" by '60s topical songwriter Phil Ochs: "Once, I was young and impulsive/I wore every conceivable pin./  Even went to the socialist meetings/Learned all the old union hymns./  But now, I'm older and wiser,/ and that's why I'm turning you in," sang Ochs, in a searing attack on the Democrats, who the folksinger described as "ten degrees to the left of center in good times, and ten degrees to the right of center if it affects them personally."

 

 

Ultimately, the appeal of the book is bound to be what the appeal of any of Jensen's work will be; it may not break into "mainstream" culture, but it will sell like crazy among the anarchists, socialists, revolutionaries and other ultra-left-wingers who are his bread and butter. These are the people who can relate to the desire to smack Al Gore and his apostles upside the head and insist that they're missing the greater point.

 

 

"When you have an entire culture that's based on lies, for someone to tell the truth is a revolutionary act," says Jensen. "And it's a little bit liberating."

 

Page last updated on May 22, 2008
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