
One of the goals I set for the Jewish Comics Library of Seattle when I launched it was to gather a collection that was large enough to use for research purposes. I wasn't exactly sure what the research would look like or who, besides myself, would want to access it for that purpose. But I was certain I was on to something. Now that the project is a reality and we have had the opportunity to interact with the general public in this arena, it is clear that it is a worthy goal with many possibilities. One of the original ideas was that studying the American comics industry would provide material for thinking about the social impact of the comics phenomenon. This recently came into fruition.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to present at the Limmud Seattle Festival, a non-denominational Jewish education conference, on the topic of how representation in comics can challenge bigotry and antisemitism. Using visual examples in a PowerPoint presentation along with some explanation, provided a launching point for conversation that was rich, engaged, and complex—highlighting the power of comics as a medium for both shaping and contesting cultural narratives.
Comics, with their unique blend of visual storytelling and narrative, have long been used to challenge social injustices. The accessibility of comics allows them to reach audiences who might not otherwise engage with histories of oppression, making them a particularly effective tool in the fight against bigotry.
One of the most well-known examples of comics confronting antisemitism is Maus by Art Spiegelman, which combines personal memoir and historical narrative to depict the Holocaust. Maus helped to cement the legitimacy of graphic novels as a medium for serious storytelling and education. Yet, it is only one piece of a broader tradition of Jewish comics that tackle antisemitism and challenge stereotypes.
One of the key points in our discussion was the difficulty of representing Jewish identity in comics without falling into essentialism. Too often, representation can slip into rigid archetypes—whether it’s the overly assimilated American Jew or the shtetl-bound relic of the past. In the early days of comics, Jewish identity was often concealed, as seen in the frequent anglicization of Jewish names—Jacob Kurtzberg became Jack Kirby, and Stanley Liebowitz became Stan Lee. This was true across the board with popular culture, especially the entertainment industry mainstays like the movies, music and later TV. I like to say that the watershed was Woody Allen who, although he also changed his name from Allan Stewart Konigsberg, portrayed openly Jewish characters in the movies. Art Spiegelman was a similar watershed for comics. These watersheds led to more Jewish representation in film and in comics.
Jewish identity is not monolithic. It encompasses religious and secular experiences, Ashkenazi, Sephardi, Mizrahi, and Ethiopian histories, and a wide range of political and cultural perspectives. Comics today explore Jewishness in nuanced ways—such as Harvey Pekar’s American Splendor, Sarah Glidden’s How to Understand Israel in 60 Days or Less, and Eli Valley’s Diaspora Boy and many others—show that Jewish identity is dynamic, evolving, and often contentious. This diversity within the Jewish community has the potential to build solidarity with other communities that intersect with Jewish identity. It is this solidarity that has the potential to protect marginalized communities from bigotry.
Although Jewish creators have historically played a significant role in shaping the comics industry, Jewish characters have often been sidelined, tokenized, or misrepresented. Even well-meaning portrayals can reinforce stereotypes, such as the trope of the hyper-intellectual or neurotic Jew. At worst, comics have served as vehicles for antisemitic imagery, perpetuating harmful myths. We included comics that were published from the 1880s and later in our presentation that portrayed antisemitic imagery. It is important to recognize that powerful tools like comics can be used in both positive and negative messaging.
Contemporary Jewish artists and writers are actively tracing everything from daily life to monumental historical situations, using the medium as a positive force. Works like Neal Shusterman’s Courage to Dream: Tales of Hope in the Holocaust use comics to teach history to younger audiences, while artists like Seth Tobocman and Eric Drooker in World War 3 Illustrated engage in radical political storytelling that challenges antisemitism, broader systems of oppression, and issues related to Israel-Palestine. And the work of Leela Corman in Unterzakhn and Amy Kurzweil in Artificial portrays the lived experiences of Jews in daily life.
One of the most powerful aspects of comics is their ability to generate empathy. Seeing a character’s struggles and triumphs visually rendered on the page can create a visceral connection between reader and subject. This is particularly crucial in confronting antisemitism, which thrives on dehumanization. This holds true for other marginalized groups as well, a reality that the comics industry recognized, leading to a significant push for greater inclusivity in the 21st century.
When readers engage with Jewish characters who are fully realized—flawed, complex, and engaged in the struggles of everyday life—they are forced to move beyond stereotypes and see Jewish identity as part of the broader human experience. Comics that foreground lived Jewish experiences, whether through memoir, fiction, or historical narrative, serve as an antidote to the flattening effects of bigotry.
Where Do We Go From Here?
The conversation at Limmud reinforced the importance of expanding and diversifying Jewish representation in comics. As new voices emerge and older works are rediscovered, we have an opportunity to push the medium further—to tell stories that challenge, educate, and inspire.
If we want to combat antisemitism and bigotry in all its forms, we need more Jewish stories. But more importantly, we need stories that reflect the full, messy, contradictory breadth of Jewish experience. Comics are uniquely suited to that task.
Let’s keep the conversation going. What are some of your favorite Jewish comics? Are there underrepresented Jewish narratives you’d like to see explored in comics? Drop your thoughts in the comments or reply to this post—I’d love to hear from you. How do you see representation shaping conversations around antisemitism today? Maybe you have some research ideas!
I just started reading Kurzweil's Artificial. I read a few of the other books you recommended in a recent essay. Thanks, Cuz!
You have Malibu Comics images in that character montage! I never see them anymore. I’m reading what you wrote now, but was caught off guard that someone remembered Malibu, good or bad.