This treasure trove of ideas and images is a must-own for libraries and comics scholars, not to mention everyday fans who wonder about what mischief their favorite medium has been up to over the decades. The tone of historian/journalist Fredrik Strőmberg’s generous book is set by a foreword by Peter Kuper that includes a one-page conceptual comic that’s both insightful and fun. Comic Art Propaganda, you’ll understand, does not see an inherent trade-off between those two items. In any case, in that brief Magritte-inspired comic, Kuper whets our appetites by calling out seven of the more sensational titles covered in the course of the book. These include the pretty much shameless “Exciting War” and, perhaps the most ironically titled of all, “True Comics.” 

But they also include Maus, and the main text itself examines Keiji Nakazawa’s Barefoot Gen, Alan Moore and David Lloyd’s V for Vendetta, Will Eisner’s The Plot, and Kuper’s own work in World War 3 Illustrated.
 
Surprised? You won’t be if you read the book, since early on the text defines propaganda neutrally via the OED as a “concerted movement for the propagation of a particular doctrine or practice.” In other words, propaganda does not specialize in spreading only “bad” or misleading information. And indeed, the author’s inclusive strategy in this respect is consistent with what might be termed a media literate approach to the topic, meaning that all media message contain embedded values, not just works such as Hansi: The Girl Who Loved the Swastika or the infamous Chick Tracts (“Bobby, that decision caused your friend to be sent to hell forever.”) 
 
In fact, if you imagine that this kind of survey encompasses all sorts of obscure comics from the Second and Third Worlds, pro-smoking Camel ads in comics form, and various underground comix with sexual agendas to promote… well, you’d be right. Yet the book also includes many slightly more familiar faces, too: the X-Men, Superman, Spider-man, the Spirit, Marvel’s Civil War, and, of course, Captain America. Similarly, in addition to dozens of creators you’ve probably never heard of (often because their work was published anonymously) you’ll encounter such hall-of-famers as Robert Crumb, Osamu Tezuka, Charles Schulz, and Carl Barks.
 
So in case you haven’t guessed already, one of the chief virtues of Comic Art Propaganda is how staggeringly comprehensive it is. (Sometimes, though, Strőmberg goes overboard and includes items that aren’t even comics, such as a poster for a Donald Duck film.) But what really makes the book such a winner is how the thoroughly impressive research is complemented by a conversational writing style that is smart without ever being dry. In short, you can browse through this spread-based volume randomly, lingering on any of the compelling topics as you see fit, or simply place it on your bookshelf and treat it as a reference tool that is sure to become indispensable. Either way, it works. 
 
In terms of the book’s own values, it’s interesting how Strőmberg sometimes makes the notion of propaganda so elastic that it seems to include everything, and thus lose some of its meaning. After all, not every work of fiction that reflects societal values is a work of propaganda because then virtually all of pop culture could be considered such. For example, is the way that Sue Storm was conceptualized in the early issues of The Fantastic Four really an example of propaganda? It’s a fascinating topic, to be sure, but perhaps one that’s better suited to a tome on gender studies or female representation in comics rather than made to fit the content here. I also wish that in addition to his brilliant interpretation of iconography in individual images, Strőmberg paid more attention to how the formal elements of comics such as lettering, page design, sound effects, and sequential storytelling are used toward propagandistic ends.
 
Still, these are small gripes about a work whose scope and depth is so impressive that one is practically left breathless. And in a strange way, readers can’t help but be left with newfound admiration for a medium that has been so ruthlessly—and creatively—exploited for so many diverse political, religious, and cultural purposes. 

written by Fredrik Strőmberg