Les Bedes

Mazel Tov to Eli Davis and all his family! This weekend, Eli will read from the Sefer Torah, and become a man. Unfortunately, I am an ocean away from the festivities, but send my love and kisses from overseas to my Uncle Bobby, my Aunt Lisa, and my cousins Eli, Hannah, Rachel, and Sara (in alphabetical order).

Eli is a great connoisseur of Les Aventures de Tintin, in English, although the series is originally written in French. Tintin is not French, however: he is Belgian. In France, Belgium has the reputation of being the world capital of comics.

The French word for a comic is bande-dessinee, literally "drawn band." Shortened to B-Ds, Bande-dessinnees are a little bit different from the the comics produced by DC Comics and Marvel: the action is paced page-by-page, I suppose because the comics were originally released serially. Therefore, at the end of each page is a joke, a surprise, a cliffhanger, etc. I think that B-Ds might also be more popular in France than comic books are in the U.S., although I'm not positive. There are perhaps three or four "classic" B-Ds here in France.

Les Aventures de Tintin, also very well known in the states, is Belgian, and describes the journeys of a globe-trotting young reporter. I read the books back home, and have been borrowing more books from the Institute's library, since I arrived in France. Some stories are fantastic: L'Ile Noir, Tintin au Tibet, and Le Crabe aux Pinces d'Or are some of my favorites. The art is vibrant, varied, and aesthetically pleasing, and the dialogue is not only engaging, but grammatically correct: Tintin is one of my best professors of French. Some adventures are assuredly better than others: I read a relatively late adventure, Tintin et les Picaros, and had to put it down because it felt so boring and contrived. I felt that Herge, the artist had run out of energy: the characters were mostly just talking heads which stiffly acted out the stereotypical roles assigned to them in earlier stories. This is really part of the main criticism I have of all of the Tintin books: the characters never change or evolve; the books are serials, not bildungsromans.

The other two great classic Belgian comics are Les Schtroumpfs, known in English as The Smurfs, and Lucky Luke, a cowboy comic. Although I have never read either one of these comics, I have recently been watching Les Schtroumpfs on YouTube: they are, mostly, easy to follow (although I sometimes have problems understanding every word in Gargamel's longer anti-Schtroumpf rants). Now I know why Andrew enjoyed the cartoon so much when he was young, and why Mom didn't mind watching it with him: the episodes are gripping, multi-layered, and cute, all at once. Les Schtroumpfs are funny and adorable; according to a recent book, they are also racist and anti-semitic. One social critic, Antoine Bueno, recently published Le Petit Livre Bleu, the thesis of which is that Les Schtroumpfs is actually filled with political undercurrents. Some of the books theses include that les Schtroumpfs are caricatures of blacks; that Le Grand Schtroumpf is a totalitarian ruler, in the style of Hitler or Stalin; that Gargamel is an anti-semitic caricature; and that La Schtroumfette symbolizes idealized Aryan beauty. I do not necessarily agree (or refute) these arguments, but they exist.

France does have one classic Francophone comic to its name, the immensely-popular Asterix le Gaulois. Asterix is a 1st-century B.C.E. Gaul living in the northwest of what is now France; he is the best and cleverest warrior of the only Gallic village that has resisted the armies of Julius Caesar. The village remains independent thanks to the magic potion brewed by the druid Panoramix, which temporarily grants the victim superhuman strength. To be honest, there isn't much substance to the Asterix I have read and seen: a great deal of slapstick, and completely unrealistic scenarios. Unlike Tintin, there is no way to suspend one's disbelief, and often, fight scenes between Gauls and Romans include over-the-top violence, as the magically-reinforced heroes hopelessly pound upon the outmatched, hapless enemies. Ironically, the story is supposed to be about the tiny hero resisting the Roman hordes, and surviving in spite of the odds; however, thanks to their super-strength, the Romans never have any real hope of winning. To paraphrase George Orwell, there is more dwarf-killing than giant-killing. The series is incredibly popular, with over thirty volumes, a cartoon, three multimillion live-action films (with one more forthcoming), and a theme park. I think its popularity has more to do with nationalism than with substance.

Hmm, am I bold enough to try the Schtroumpf-flavored ice cream at the Place Plumereau, this coming week? I think not.

Shabbat Shalom!

~JD

"La misere fut le sort du plus grand nombre au long du terrible hiver 1794-1795... Les oliviers gelaient dans le Midi, les loups rodaient aux portes de Paris" [The misery was the fate of the majority throughout the terrible winter of 1794-1795. The olive trees froze in Southern France, and wolves prowled about the gates of Paris] (Denis Woronoff, La Republique bourgeoise, p. 22).