The issue of overly sexualized art in comics was initially brought under my radar during various discussions dissecting the depiction of women in mainstream books. In 2015, Cracked published a list describing the “5 insane things comic books think women’s bodies can do.” In the previous year, Marvel Comics released an absurdly inappropriate variant cover for Spider-Woman illustrated by Milo Manara depicting the heroine in a crawling position with her spread buttocks in full display. This generated enough controversy to get the variant pulled, but fellow illustrator Frank Cho, in an act of “solidarity,” depicted Marvel’s Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen striking a similar pose. This was particularly gross because Spider-Gwen is a teenager. Both Milo Manara and Frank Cho are highly skilled artists, but they’re notoriously known for their racy depictions of women in their illustrations that range from suggestive “cheesecake” imagery to softcore erotica.

Suggestive comic book art is not new. Suggestive art is especially not new. For decades, male artists found ways to insert their sexual identities and fantasies into their work. Wonder Woman was introduced with Charles Moulton’s ideas of submission and bondage illustrated directly onto the page by H. G. Peter. The “male-gaze” was always a significant patron of the arts, but the need for change was illustrated more clearly than ever within the last decade. Not everything has to be sexualized. Female comic book characters deserve the same level of visual nuance, detail, and overall practicality as their male counterparts. Some boil these ideas down to censorship, but I couldn’t disagree more.

There’s a time and place for everything, and I am not fully comfortable with artists inserting their kinks in properties created to be consumed by people as young as 10 years old. There are exceptions, of course, with mainstream comic characters designed with sensuality in mind; Black Cat, Catwoman, Emma Frost, and Poison Ivy are just a few. But exceptions don’t erase the problem, and the problem isn’t sex or sexuality. It’s how those things are applied unfairly and disproportionately to women comic book characters as a whole. It’s not “wrong” to find women attractive and create or consume art that centers their physical beauty and sex appeal. But if one can’t do that and remember that women are still autonomous human beings, and if one can’t avoid depicting female characters as sexual objects, they are a part of the problem. If decentering the male gaze at least occasionally proves to be an impossible task, then perhaps it’s time to embrace another niche.

Sexualized and sexy are different words with different meanings. To sexualize means to make something sexy, often in scenarios that arguably don’t require it. Sexy, on the other hand, can be defined as being inherently attractive (and I consider sensual to be a “softer” synonym of this). One isn’t natural, the other one is. This is why characters like She-Hulk and Captain Marvel can co-exist on two different sides of female characterization. This also allots room for other characters such as Storm, Misty Knight, Black Widow, and Wonder Woman to fall anywhere on that spectrum depending on who is writing and drawing them. But it would create an issue if, for example, Captain Marvel (in her current characterization) was suddenly presented with proportions exaggerated further than usual, with a costume that fit more like paint than spandex, striking extremely suggestive poses. This is how Carol Danvers was introduced to us decades ago, but her image has since evolved. I don’t believe sexualized art is inherently harmful, but it depends on what the art specifically is and the purpose it serves. If a character was made to inspire and empower a young group of people with relatable stories and wish fulfillment, why must we also endure the artist’s sexual fantasies projected onto that character if they don’t actually fit?

Not every illustrator has this problem. Jen Bartel, an Eisner Award-winning artist who has drawn for both Marvel and Image Comics, executes her work with range, nuance, and humanity. Her illustrations can be thoughtful, mysterious, powerful, joyous, sensual, andsexual. In one piece, Captain Marvel can fly in the sky while showing us that she’s one of comics’ most powerful heavy hitters. In another, Rey from Star Wars can stand with a lightsaber ready for battle. In another, Black Cat can recline on a couch in a skintight leather outfit with stolen jewelry. In another, Morrigan from Darkstalkers can stand with her sex appeal in full display, looking similar to a classic pinup illustration.

Another artist of note is Monstress illustrator Sana Takeda, who’s fairytale-esque work brings beautifully intricate linework and muted colors on fully-armored characters to the forefront. She is simultaneously capable of portraying characters with sensuality in mind, with some of her work at Marvel Comics attesting to that.

Alex Ross, perhaps one of the best-known comic artists, approaches his subjects with their power and symbolism at the front of his mind. He appears to treat them all with the same amount of passion, respect, and nuance regardless of the characters’ gender or original design using a realistic, painterly style.

On the other side of the discussion is Ant Lucia, whose art is specifically made with the intent of channeling the classic pinup era. His illustrations were the driving force behind DC Bombshells, a line of collectibles and an eventual comic series written by Marguerite Bennett that centered well-known heroines re-imagined around the cultural landscape of the 1940s. Re-creating the likes of Wonder Woman, Catwoman, Batgirl and many others through a pinup lens, specifically, shifts the meaning of “sexualized comic art,” perhaps for the better.

Pinup art exists as its own niche in the world of illustration. Classic American pinup as we know it can be traced all the way back to the turn of the 20th century, with Charles Dana Gibson’s aptly named “Gibson Girls” personifying the era’s ideals of feminine beauty. This type of illustration, and the nature of their portrayal of women, evolved through the decades with the help of artists such as Enoch Bolles, Rolf Armstrong, George Petty, Alberto Vargas, and Gil Elvgrens. The intent behind these works centered the male gaze without question in eras filled to the brim with misogyny. But while they were created with the desires of heterosexual men in mind, some women found themselves attracted to the art as well. Zoë Mozert became one of the most prominent and legendary illustrators by posing in and creating her own pinup art along with Joyce Ballantyne and Pearl Frush.

Today, female pinup illustrators stand in prominence, and while the art is still reflective of the past in many ways, the increased feminine presence behind the brush has changed the very meaning of the craft. In the introduction of Pinups Past and Present, Contemporary pin-up artist Nathalie Rattner says, “They celebrate life. They are more often than not well-rounded characters, who represent many facets of what it is to be a woman.” While consumers may enjoy the art for a variety of reasons, some women creators feel a sense of empowerment from it, seeing it as a celebration of their femininity and sexuality.

Pinup is a beautiful, timeless art in which plenty of skilled creatives have found a home. It’s a genre with sensuality and sex appeal at the forefront, and it has given some women creators a sense of empowerment. I’m not saying it’s a solution for comic illustrators who can’t seem to resist drawing women in a sexualized manner at every turn, nor am I saying those illustrators shouldn’t be allowed to draw whomever or whatever they want. But an uncomfortable problem persists.

Perhaps the solution lies with increasing the overall sex appeal of male characters in comics. Since men and women are not portrayed the same way, perhaps it would be helpful to establish an equal approach from both ends. What would happen if we de-sexualized the women in some comics, but did the opposite to the men in others?

It appears that some (straight) male illustrators face difficulty taking control of their own sexual narratives in their work. Are they not sexual beings just like the women they draw? These women might be renderings of their desires, but at what point does their own desirability come into play? At what point do they put thought into the needs of the women they fantasize about and put on the page? Is self-reflection and sexual celebration out of bounds in terms of “proper” masculinity?

This brings me back to some of my own work as an illustrator. I prefer to draw women because they’re who I’m attracted to, but my illustrations are often sanitized with little to no indication of sexuality in an attempt to remain absolutely respectful of their humanity. On one hand, it’s a good thing. My work has received quite a bit of positive feedback from women. On the other hand, I worry this has limited my creative range. Why should my art be completely clean at all times if that’s not who I am in reality? Why deny myself access to certain creative avenues if I happily consume others’ art created in those spaces? The answer to those questions is that I don’t have to limit myself. It was always a choice, but it’s one I’m beginning to doubt.

Unfortunately, many working professionals are incapable of seeing female characters as fully humansubjects and they have a limited understanding of what constitutes sexuality outside of their specific desires, which further cements a harmful trend in the industry. The best illustrators working today are those who have their full potential on display with depictions of characters that show us their humanity and their sexuality in scenarios where they fit best regardless of gender. That is the blueprint to follow going forward for the sake of positive evolution.

Bibliography

Abad-Santos, Alex. 2014. Vox.August 25. Accessed August 2019. https://www.vox.com/2014/8/25/6063553/the-non-comic-persons-guide-to-the-spider-woman-cover.

Beedle, Tim. 2015. DC Comics.January 22. Accessed August 2019. https://www.dccomics.com/blog/2019/04/18/dc-collectibles-a-bombshell-of-a-journey.

Berman, Judy. 2013. Flavorwire.February 14. Accessed August 2019. https://www.flavorwire.com/371048/14-female-pin-up-artists-you-should-know-but-probably-dont-nsfw.

Donovan, Caitlin. 2015. Cracked.February 14. Accessed August 2019. https://www.cracked.com/article_22120_5-insane-things-comic-books-believe-womens-bodies-can-do.html.

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n.d. Merriam Webster.Accessed August 2019. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sexualize.

n.d. Merriam Webster.Accessed August 2019. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sexy.

Radford-Earle, Lucy. 2018. Pinups Past & Present.New York, NY: Chartwell Books.

Rattner, Nathalie. 2018. “Introduction.” In Pinups Past & Present, by Lucy Radford-Earle, 6. New York, NY: Chartwell Books.