For this month’s Card Catalog, here’s something slightly different. I would like to share with you how one of my favorite animated films introduced me to one of my favorite authors, which then introduced to me a new appreciation for American poetry, which, in turn, made me appreciate my favorite film even more. There are many animation connections along the way and I hope that this may encourage you to follow your own cartoon research and join in on discovering the fun!
The Ghost in the Shell film franchise was written and directed by Mamoru Oshii, which was in turn, based on the manga of the same name by Masamune Shirow. Ghost in the Shell is a cyberpunk series that often combines philosophical contemplation with dynamic action sequences. The first film released in 1995 asks viewers heavy existential questions like what it means to be a human and how technology may or may not change that definition, especially when jumping to the year 2029.
Throughout the franchise there are quite a few overt references to various books and religious texts. References are especially prominent in dialogue between characters or as visual motifs. If you’ve seen the episodic sequel series from 2002-2005, Stand Alone Complex, you may be familiar with how the story writes into its first season plot two works by J.D. Salinger, the 1951 novel, The Catcher in the Rye and the 1949 short story, “Laughing Man”.
Sometimes, the literary references can be a little more subtle. In the second film, Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence, the antagonists turn out to be a corporation called LOCUS SOLUS. That name, far from being Latin in origin, is actually the name of a French surrealist book from 1914 written by an eccentric heir who was convinced he was destined for greatness, who instead found notoriety, Raymond Roussel.
The 1914 novel, LOCUS SOLUS, follows Martial Canterel, a famous inventor and recluse who has, for the first time, invited individuals from around the world into his mansion where he introduces them to one invention after another – each becoming more fantastic as the book goes along. What makes this story special is that each object in the mansion becomes its own short story within a story. Sometimes objects are made of various inventions where Canterel explains their origin and how he came upon them and integrates them into various inventions. If you’re familiar with the aforementioned Innocence, these descriptions may remind you of certain sequences in the film or if you enjoyed the episode of The Venture Brothers, “Blood of the Father, Heart of Steel”, where the decreasing value of a comic book is used a measurement of time to rearrange the episode’s scenes into the correct order – this book is right up your alley.
Raymond Roussel was convinced his name would be amongst the greatest writers in history, but he was considered a joke to the surrealist movement of the early 20th century. Heir to a wealthy family, closeted and isolated from most of society, the linguistic rules that Roussel created and meticulously followed allowed for his creativity to blossom in ways unseen since. There exist a few books that cover the uniqueness of Roussel’s poetry, writings, and life. Raymond Roussel and the Republic of Dreams by Mark Ford tackles his life and the meaning in his work, Raymond Roussel: A Critical Study by Raney Heppenstall examines the entirety of Roussel’s output and the contextual changes when he adapted his stories for stage or between short form writings and poetry, and lastly, Death and the Labyrinth: The World of Raymond Roussel by Michel Foucault and translated by Charles Ruas which dives deep into the potential meanings and internal structure of each of Roussel’s works.
Roussell’s influence was felt in the 1950’s when a group of writers and poets from the New York School of Poetry and the French poetry group, OULIPO, wrote and distributed a series of journals of experimental poetry and short stories inspired by the writings and even borrowing the name from Roussel’s work. Five issues of the LOCUS SOLUS Journal were bound and sold from 1961-1962 with volumes 3 and 4 being bound together. Each volume features a myriad of writers and poets throughout time and the world, but for today’s interest we turn to perhaps one of the most prominent American poets from the 20th century, John Ashberry. He contributed not only a few poems to each of the volumes, but edited volume 3 and 4. He even wrote the introductions for the aforementioned books by Foucault and Ford. You wouldn’t think that the Pulitzer Prize winning poet had many run-ins with animation, but his poem Daffy Duck In Hollywood was written in 1975 and uses Looney Tunes motifs as a means of describing, well, I would argue the frustrations of life, but as with all great surrealist work it reveals something in you.
And that’s the rabbit hole I’ve dug so far. What’s your favorite reference to unexpected other media in cartoons? Have you gone down your own rabbit hole? Thanks for reading and see you next month where I’ll share more books more specifically about the history of animation!
Orrin Scott is an animation researcher. His research focus has been on how society interacts with animation as a form of communication, commerce, art, and entertainment. He is the administrator of the 
I’m not acquainted with Roussel’s work, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been to translate into English, let alone Japanese. I know that Raymond Roussel was a contemporary of the French composer Albert Roussel, whom I very much admire, but I don’t think they were related. While I can’t say that I’ve ever learned anything about French literature from watching Japanese anime, I have learned a lot about Japanese culture from it. As for rabbit holes, yeah, I’ve got one:
Nearly twenty years ago I ordered a DVD collection from Thunderbean called “The Strangest Cartoons Ever Made!” One of these strange cartoons was “La joie de vivre”, a beautiful 10-minute animated art moderne ballet made in Paris in 1934 by Hector Hoppin and Anthony Gross. I was quite taken with its musical score by Tibor Harsanyi, of whom I had never heard, and so I resolved to find out more about him. I learned that Harsanyi was a Hungarian concert pianist who toured widely and spent most of his life in Paris, and a composer whose music was admired by Stravinsky and Ravel. A modest man not given to self-promotion, his music has become obscure since his death in 1954; much of it is out of print, and very little of it has been recorded. His best-known work is probably “The Brave Little Tailor” for narrator and chamber ensemble, which in the days of the vinyl LP was often recorded as the flip-side to Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf”. When I found out that his very last work was a sonata for viola and piano, I tracked it down and spent more than anyone in his right mind would to obtain a copy from an archive in Paris. (For reasons unknown to me, French music always costs a fortune.) But it was worth it, for this sonata really is a great work. I’m proud to be the first violist to have performed it in Australia, New Zealand, and Thailand. And I never would have found out about this wonderful piece of music if I didn’t spend so much time watching cartoons!
Disney’s animated film Sword in the Stone on its rerelease in the early 1970s inspired me to read more about King Arthur, which I had of course heard of but never really focused on. Looking for the book the film was based on led me to “The Once and Future King” by T. H. White. It was the first adult novel I had read, although it has many qualities of a children’s book as well, so it made for a smooth transition. After White, I had to go back and read Thomas Malory’s “Morte d’Arthur” since White references it throughout his writing. This led me to Howard Pyle’s four-book series on Arthur, Mary Stewart’s three-book series on Merlin, “Excalibur” by Gil Kane and John Jakes (no real connection to the movie of the same title), “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” by Mark Twain, and later into the more real-world explorations by Geoffrey Ashe and Leslie Alcock. It led to a lifetime of reading and collecting lore related to the Matter of Britain. I now have somewhere around 100 books on the subject of King Arthur and my fascination has not abated to this day. Amazing where animation can lead!
Oshii’s work on the Patlabor movies actually left more of an impression on me than Ghost in the Shell (think I might’ve been too embarrassed to buy a copy of Ghost in the Shell with the racy picture on the cover). The villain in Patlabor 2 reminded more of Cottard from Camus’s the Plague than anything you’d find in a standard action cartoon.
I don’t have much of any rabbit hole stories, but as a kid I suppose I got into classic movies via Bugs Bunny cartoons. I’d see parodies of Humphrey Bogart in those cartoons and think I should know who that is.
Though I may have been too ashamed to purchase a copy of Ghost in the Shell due to the graphic cover art, I was more impressed by Oshii’s work on the Patlabor films. Patlabor 2’s antagonist was unlike any action cartoon villain you might meet, more akin to Cottard from Camus’s The Plague.