Gods' Man, A Novel in Woodcuts 1929

Editor: This woodcut, titled *Gods' Man, A Novel in Woodcuts*, created by Lynd Kendall Ward in 1929, has a very stark and almost theatrical feel to it. The high contrast and exaggerated expressions of the figures are really striking. What sort of narrative do you see unfolding here? Curator: Lynd Ward truly captures the spirit of his age, doesn’t he? I see symbols layered within symbols. Note how the woman, the most brightly lit figure, is framed; seemingly offered as a commodity by that grinning man in the foreground. What does that gesture evoke for you, within the larger narrative implied by the title? Editor: I hadn't really thought of her as a commodity...more like she's aware of her surroundings? What kind of connections might Ward be drawing between individual experience and the broader, possibly corrupt, societal forces at play here? Curator: The faces in the background, almost a chorus, seem to fixate, or are they leering? Their uniformity of dress and expression suggests a specific social stratum complicit within the capitalist system that devalues humanity. Have you ever encountered that particular contrast between light and dark in other cultural artifacts depicting societal struggles? Editor: Not quite in this explicit manner, no. So the visual language here isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s communicating the social commentary about power, exploitation, and possibly even loss of innocence, using archetypes. Curator: Exactly! And recall that wordless novels became really powerful, accessible formats during periods of social unrest. By using stark contrasts, simplified figures, and dramatic compositions, Ward really hit the emotional tone of his historical time, as we’re still sensitive to these stark visuals now. Editor: Thanks, that makes Ward’s choices here even more compelling! I am rethinking my understanding of those faces in the background. Curator: That's the beauty of art, isn’t it? Continual questioning, revising our perspectives…and seeing reflections of ourselves across time.