[1] Williams encouraged us to avoid singular and closed academic narratives, a point he made before the corresponding anthropological critique of the 1980s; see Williams 1977.

[2] Our ethnographic interlocutors are often in doubt about their own views. I have found the graphic approach very helpful in capturing their ambivalent stance, or even ideological conflicts, but in a manner that does not single out conflicting views in mutually excluding terms; see Theodossopoulos 2020a, 2020b.

[3] University of Toronto Press has dedicated a book series to full-length 'ethnoGRAPHIC' monographs. See: Lissa (Hamdy and Nye 2017), The King of Bangkok (Sopranzetti et al. 2019), Light in Dark Times (Waterston 2020), and Gringo Love (Carrier-Moisa 2020). See also: graphic books that divert from the sequential graphic novel format: Things that Art (Jain 2019) and The Inheritance (Povinelli 2021).

[4] There is great variety of “shorter” graphic outputs. Some of them popularize the content of academic articles and books. One of my favorite examples is a graphic that outlines Imogen Tyler’s critique of Erving Goffman; see Bailey and Tyler 2018. There are also recent graphic interventions that popularize abstract academic concepts in a format that can be read by local populations—such as the indigenous interlocutors, the people that generate the knowledge (or ideas) captured by ethnography; see Theodossopoulos 2019 and Mookherjee and Keya 2019.

[5] I refer here to a research project during which I emulated the representational style of a political cartoonist who exposed social inequality in the 1950s and 1960s. I drew like him (and recycled his cartoon-characters) to introduce an ethnographic comparison with austerity in the present time; see Theodossopoulos 2022.