It Doesn'T Work With Humans'

At book signings, 42-year-old New York graphic novelist Art Spiegelman affixes a mouse's head to each autograph. His rodent is not as cute as Fievel, the Russian-Jewish immigrant mouse now starring in Steven Spielberg's animated "American Tail" sequel, "Fievel Goes West," and nowhere nearly as well-known as Mickey. But even here, near the heart of Hollywood, about a hundred people are lined up outside Roth's Jewish book shop to have one sketched into their newly purchased copy of "Maus II."

Spiegelman's first "Maus" book sparked widespread wonderment that the Holocaust could be rendered as a comic strip. "Some people were shocked, I suppose," said Spiegelman, who edits Raw, a widely acclaimed magazine aptly subtitled "Open Wounds from the Cutting Edge of Comics." Most, he thinks, "were merely surprised."

In recent years, however, the "graphic novel" lengthy comic-book treatment of adult themes, often tinged with wry self-awareness of the art form's lowbrow history has won a measure of mainstream acceptance. So, too, has animation: Disney's new "Beauty and the Beast" may garner a best-picture Oscar nomination next year. "Maus" attracted major film-industry interest, which Spiegelman, as recounted in his new book, has so far resisted.

"Maus II" seems to be attracting attention focused more on Spiegelman's thoroughly unsentimental personal odyssey and less on the use of the once-lowly comic-book panel to relate it. Assuming the role of journalist, says Spiegelman, was the only way he could have any relationship at all with his survivor father. The story, which the artist worked on for 13 years, began as a serialized comic strip featuring human characters. "It doesn't work with people," says Spiegelman. "We tried it once, and it wasn't nearly as good." Having animals (or characters wearing animal masks) stand in for humans helped distance him and readers from the paralyzing horror of the events. "It really hurt too much," he says.

Mostly, though, using animals liberated Spiegelman from a compulsion to bear witness literally, a task he believes was impossible from the outset. "A Pole protected my parents. Ordinarily, I'd have to draw that Pole. But I don't know what he looked like. There are no photographs of him. No matter what kind of description I'd get, it would never be accurate. I'd be in this false area, and never hit it right. This kind of a device, these masks, gave me a greater margin to work in."

Spiegelman does not intend to continue the "Maus" series. He has gone the second-generation survivor route he once went to a singles club, where "Hi, nice to meet you, what camp were your parents at?" was a frequent ice-breaker and no longer regards this dubious status as an adequate source of identity. "Don't expect Maus Goes West' or Maus Takes a Vacation,' says Spiegelman. "I've finally got to the end of it, and it's enough."