Blake et Mortimer, tome 1

… and, coming back too this almost forty years after last reading it, I wasn’t expecting too much. Sure enough, the world view is horrifically dated: white Brit dudes saving the world through süperior technology with the help of other white dudes and some loyal colonial dudes. A cruel, generically ‘yellow’ enemy bent on world domination slash destruction of civilisation. Literally not one woman in sight and a view of non-whites that, at its most kind, can only be called folkloristic – j’en passe et des meilleures. Superficially, there is enough to erase Jacobs’ early work from comics art memory. And yet, I’d argue it very much needs to stay in it.

First, the are some saving graces: in 1950, five years after the conclusion of World War II, the idea of an aggressively imperialistic asian empire wasn’t exactly outlandish (and yes, Jacobs did model his supposedly ‘Tibetan’ military on the Imperial Japanese Army, with more than a bit of Adolf Hitler added to its supreme leader, Basam Damdu). And while the antagonists are constantly saddled with the demeaning generic ‘Jaunes’ (‘Yellows’) and are, with one exception, either portrayed as jingoistic bullies or mindless extras, that portrayal never veers into the racialised evil caricature you might expect. In fact, except for the megalomaniac emperor, the one purely evil antagonist is a Westerner, the flamboyant Colonel Olrik. As to the all-guys world, it is partially a product of its creation date – surprisingly, that makes it feel less dated once you get over it because it doesn’t portray utterly outdated gender roles (don’t @ me) –, partially also one of Blake and Mortimer being very much a headcannon gay couple. You can really ship these two.

But none of that would mean anything without two net positives. One, Jacobs’ spectacularly cinematic style. That may sound strange, considering his books are really heavy on text, but his way of composing and lighting / colouring his sequences stands up to time – just take a peek at the covers. Two, his storytelling. You might disagree with his worldview, but there is no doubt this is an action story for an adult public, told by a master in the making. This was a graphic novel long before the term was coined; heck, it would take even the French and Belgians twenty more years to promote comics to the ninth art form. Which all sums up to say that, 70 years later, Le secret de l’Espadon is not an unproblematic piece of comics art; but comics art it undoubtedly is.

Diclaimer: this review is for the original French version. English translations exist AFAIK, but you are on your own finding them. Also, mandatory comics review note.