I read a lot of bande dessinées as a child. The francophone equivalent of the graphic novel or comic book, it’s most famous international emissaries probably are Tintin (popular enough to have one of its stories’ adapted into film by Steven Spielberg), or perhaphs Asterix et Obélix. Both were a given in my French upbringing, as were Les Schtroumpfs and – this one is a familial particularity – Calvin & Hobbes. As I got a bit older, I turned to Blake & Mortimer, the fantasy series Lanfeust de Troy, and Corto Maltese. I’m not entirely sure how the medium is best reviewed, and have little knowledge of its codes and history, but here’s my first attempt at a critical reading of a bande dessinée anyway: the book compiling all six tomes of the space opera L’Incal.
One night, feeling an urge to escape the sickening smell of fresh paint and beckoning boxes waiting to be unpacked, Cowen wanders out of his new home in Harrogate, North Yorkshire. On the edge of town, he discovers a half-forgotten forest and fallow field hemmed in between housing and countryside, a place to which he feels a connection from the first instant. He begins to explore each part of this
Science and technology are a triumph of human ingenuity over nature. Or so we tend to think. Propelled by this idea, researchers and inventors of the past century have endeavored to subjugate the chaotic forces of nature to meet human needs. Their efforts have been met with such success that we now live in a time of arguably unprecedented technological prowess and copious material wealth. This has come at an
The Peregrine is the account of a man’s obsession with a bird. With only one other book to his name, J.A. Baker (1926 – 1986) is a somewhat mysterious figure. Recent investigation into his life revealed only that he lived near Chelmsford, in Essex. Although he worked for the local Automobile Association, he was unable to drive and rarely went further than his bicycle could take him. What is clear