License Re-request: Epileptic 2

David B.'s seminal comic biography about his epileptic brother is one of the most seminal comic works ever seen, easily outpacing the likes of Persepolis and Maus.  His drawings have a grandiose dreamlike essence with a strong Mayan influence, giving a monstrous symbolic representation of the disease that took over his brother's life.  Paul Gravett writes more eloquently about the masterpiece than I ever could.

Yet people may be largely ignorant of the fact that there was a followup after the 6-volume epic ended.

I only knew about this because there were samples made available in the pamphlets during Free Comic Book Day in 2006.  However, I only flipped through the pages of the Fantagraphics sample (inappropriately titled Funny Book #2), since I wanted to make sure I'd get my money's worth, and didn't want to get something that would take up valuable space. 

I'm guessing hardly anybody saw these pages, either from being largely unimpressed by the interior, or the subject material not being to their taste.  Don't worry if you're missing anything - you're seeing the best that the issue has to offer.  And it was freely available back then, so I have no compuctions in sharing it again now.

This seminal footnote was from Babel, and was only a scant 32 pages, with the promise of more to come.  So far, only 2 of the 3 issues have been translated.  As such, there's too little material to justify collecting everything in one comprehensive book.  It doesn't even qualify as an add-on for the already oversized tour de force tome that is Epileptic.  Not to mention that some of the material retreads stuff that was already covered before, retelling it in a different manner, making the addition somewhat redundant.

BTW, there seems to be a translation error here, where the text says "my brother ran into one of Professor T.'s assistants", when it clearly shows his parents instead.  The latter seems more likely - Jean-Christophe hardly talks to anyone outside his dwindling circle he’s not intimately familiar with.

That would've been the end of it, but there was another preview in 2008 in another FCBD book, not in Funny Book, but I.G.N.A.T.Z. instead.

There's been a smattering of David B.'s other works translated into English, such as, Black Paths, Incidents in the Night, and The Littlest Pirate King, but none of these titles have really gripped my interest the same way that Epileptic does.  The only title that does is his adaption, Hâsib & the Queen of Serpents: a Tale of a Thousand and One Nights.

There were occasional forays in history and David B.'s dreams within the pages of Epileptic, but these segues however tangentially related still felt like part of the narrative.  When I read his other works, these elements don't mesh as seamlessly.  It's probably a mixture of history, violence and dream logic thrown together that works better for an adaptation than his other stories.

One fair criticism of Epileptic is that David B.'s sister makes her presence known, and then is completely neglected for the remainder of half the book.  A fault mentioned by his sibling.

I'm not entirely sure how a collection of just three(!) issues could be bound together.  It's something like how Super Spy: The Lost Dossiers was an expanded extra package never intended to be part of the narrative, just a special promotion for those who heavily invested in the property.  I don't really have a suggestion in the matter.  I just wanted to bring it up.

I greatly identify with the story, despite not being epileptic myself, seeing it as a cautionary tale for what could’ve been me.  If my parents hadn’t fought as long and hard as they did to overcome my deafness (and my Aspergers), I could’ve very well ended up like Jean-Christophe.

Despite all of David B.’s parent’s attempts to circumvent a cure for his brother’s condition, they never stopped trying, constantly moving from one to the next, never finding solace from any, as none worked for very long.  At a certain point, Jean-Christophe just gave up fighting, and became utterly dependent on his disease.  I still need help with basic living, but I can still contribute to family and society in my own special way.

License Request: Asper Girl

There’s been a vested interest in showing Autistic representation in popular media, usually in the vein of showing savant skills, though with very few exceptions, portrayal of high-functioning Autistic women remains a minority.  And even then, they're little more than walk-on supporting roles which is little more than thinly veiled shorthand for showing blunt rudeness, missing the point.  Being socially unaware doesn’t mean getting the opportunity to act like Gregory House, it just usually turns out that way, because there’s a whole plethora of unwritten rules that’s supposed to be intuited and not spoken, because they’re so obvious.

For the longest time, portrayal of Autism has been largely male-focused, leaving female portrayal relatively untouched.  I haven’t exactly been a big fan of representation of Autistics in mainstream media such as The Good Doctor or Big Bang Theory, since they portray a lower common denominator preconception worldview that’s more fixed in stereotypical expectations than what I would’ve personally related to.  They’re aimed more at mainstream audiences than Autistic audiences.  And mainstream entertainment seems more interested in hitting specific story beats, very much like how a racecar is supposed to go through checkpoints to win a race.  The layout may vary, but the car is still restricted within the confines of the racetrack.

For the longest time, showcasing mentally different people had to be shown using metaphorical allegories, such as logical robots, and Star Trek faves such as Data, Spock, Seven of Nine and the EMH Doctor have been beacons of identification for Autistics.  This trope video about robots shows some excellent examples of representation sometimes missing the mark, particularly around the 11:08 mark.

The closest a show came to showing an accurate portrayal of an Autistic woman that wasn’t a metaphor would be Saga Noren from The Bridge, and that was from doing research.  But that show lost its appeal once it veered away from that viewset of human nature.

It's only recently that the field has expanded to include a more diverse female perspective, no doubt bolstered by Temple Grandin's presence.  While Camouflage: the Hidden Lives of Autistic Women isn't the main focus here, I still feel the need to include it here, since it thematically fits, and I wanted to include these two pages outlining the differences.

The main difference being that while the stigma of missing social cues is still present, Autistic women are more socially aware, having been pressured into taking other people’s feelings in effect.  As such, they may be more likely to look people in the eye, even as their male contemporaries find the influx of details too overwhelming to handle.  They’re better at hiding their outer symptoms and more likely to conform to society’s standards while remaining unaware of social conventions.

I am always in the outlook for anything Autistic-related, even if it relays information I've read a thousand times before.  No two itterations are exactly alike.  So it was with great reluctance and enthusiasm that I chanced upon Asuperu Kanojo, also known as Days with a Girl, or alternately, Asper Girl.  Reluctance because mental health is always a tricky subject in Manga, since the need to socially conform is even higher in Japan, and stigma to avoid such terms are best avoided.  But I needn't have worried, since my high quality standards were not only just met but exceeded.

While reading AsperGirl, there were several instances where I thought, “That’s exactly how *I* would’ve handled that situation!”  Until then, my favorite cartoon representation for Autism was Peridot from Steven Universe, episode Log Date 7-15-2, since so many of her reactions to being caught indulging her embarrassing special interests were similar to mine.

The woman, Saito-San, has a severe history of trauma, having been mistreated due to her misunderstanding of social norms and not fitting in with regular society, and greatly identified with the Artist, Yokoi-San (penname Gesui Seijin), who wrote mainly depressing stories that spoke to a small niche audience.  It also helps that the Artist has some Aspergic tendencies himself.  (Though I’d be unnerved by having someone constantly watch me while working)

Portraying ignorance about proper interactions yet maintaining a keen grasp of human nature is a difficult concept to convey properly, and can come across clumsily if not handled properly.  The interaction between the secluded Manga Artist and Rabid Fan who uses her prowess to find and live with him could be considered cliched in so many circles, but here, it’s just SO GOOD.

The Artist basically lives with this new addition in his life, and deals with her presence by offering emotional support with her sudden panic attacks and suicidal tendencies.  Their relationship grows organically, taking the time to know each other and not just rely on wacky hijinks.  When events spiral out of control, he has to figure out ways to cope and calm her down so this kind of thing won’t happen again.  It manages to feel real in a way that most romances don’t.

And even the times when perfectly normal stuff is just happening and nothing drastic’s going on, there’s always an undercurrent that things could potentially go wrong at any moment.  It’s that tense yet calm atmosphere that really speaks to me.

While there are multiple instances where she could’ve taken advantage of the Artist’s generosity, at no point does she ever emotionally manipulate him to her benefit.  She is always relentlessly honest about her thoughts and needs, and giving TMI whenever the moment happens, especially if the moment doesn’t warrant it.

While she appears composed, there are times when intense emotional feelings rise up without warning, prompting her to do actions that would be considered shocking.  When annoyed, she can react without thinking, and then become remorseful of having caused unintentional damage.  In one such instance, she retaliated against a wife’s child for causing a ruckus in the bathhouse, and didn’t see why she needed to apologize over something so trivial.  By chance, later, she happened to see the wife’s husband having a covert affair, and considered showing the wife the proof.

And yet, she couldn’t see that her proposed plan for revenge could have negative consequences resulting in a domino effect that could effectively ruin the wife’s family.  While she might feel some initial joy out of getting payback, the backlash of being responsible would be more than she might bear.

That’s the main difference between Autistics and Psychopaths - Psychos don’t care about the fallback, even if it affects them, as long as they get their revenge.  Autistics who understand what they’ve done wrong are more likely to feel guilty about having done something that hurt others without meaning to.

While she requires constant attention to keep from falling back into depression, her actual materialistic needs to remain content remain modest.  She doesn’t care that much about fancy gadgets or the latest expensive transportation, just the basic necessities of life, such as simple meals, an inner working bathroom and AC.  It doesn’t take very much to make her happy, and I’m pretty much the same way.  As long as things remain consistent, I’m fine.

Online fan translations come once a month with varying unscheduled releases, but it's always a pleasure when they come.  On the official scanlation page is the following information:

The author of the manga is requesting people send a message to the editor on Twitter to gauge interest in an official English release. You can find his tweet and the editor's response here.
The author has also requested that you don't message the author or artist about it, only the editor.

That interest is being shown is a good sign.  Apart from a few clunky passages that would need further notes, such as being overwhelmed by being in an Air-Conditioned room, and the perplexing need for a plastic bag would require notes for understanding, there's very little that's actually objectionable, save for maybe a moment early on that might upset animal lovers.  But those niggling details shouldn't detract from the strong pluses the story conveys.

License Request: Tintin Director's Cut

Tintin is one of the most beloved comics read worldwide, it's material present in a surprisingly scant 24 albums (and one movie special) that has delighted audiences of all ages, long past the long-obsolete technological and political ramifications that these period-specific quests took place in.

An instance in Cigars of the Pharaoh where Tintin is cornered
by the elaborate security system of the Masked Cigar Cult.

And yet, there still remains a surprising amount of unreleased material that has long remained out of the casual audience's purview or knowledge.  Pure Tintinologists are aware of these, but for the most part, this deleted stuff is fascinating.  (Sadly, the Black & White reprints uses substandard translation that doesn't match the originals)  The brief forays into casual racism notwithstanding, the main bulk of left out pages comes from condensing the sheer amount of published material into more easily packaged format of a 62-page album.  (Which I've alluded to in detail in my definitive essay, Mathematical Equivalence of Comics)

In the original Tintin in the Congo, Tintin put a stick of dynamite
inside the Rhinoceros' hide, causing his intended prey to explode to pieces.

That forced limitation for European-style storytelling has encouraged tighter storytelling, but also limited the amount of length a typical interesting subject could provide.  (Gag-based albums are further restricted to anywhere between 44-62 pages) Not unlike the forced publication of weekly serials (6 pages for 2000 AD, 16 pages of Shonen Jump, and 22 pages for the typical American comic)  Independent publishers have relaxed this series of limitations somewhat, and allowed for the addition of more pages wherever necessary.

For the most part, most of the pages left out in a Tintin book can be considered superfluous, and filler boilerplate stuff intended to drag out the scene a little longer, and give the drawer some time to figure out how his spunky hero was going to get out of this little fix.

But in terms of sheer amount of available material, the bulk of unpublished stuff goes to Prisoners of the Sun.

Here, the Visionary sees that Captain Haddock has not only a bottle of Whisky
in his coat pocket, but also a box full of Monocles.

Not unlike most comic serials, The Seven Crystal Balls started off by first being published as a daily strip in Le Soir.  And then, WWII happened, which forced Hergé to put his planned arc on hold, and his story wouldn't be continued until two years later, leaving the fate of further Tintin adventures and the mystery of the epileptic/catatonic explorers and Calculus' kidnapping unknown.  Fortunately, after the War, Hergé was pardoned for suspicion of collaborating with the enemy, which was absurd, since his stories were more anti-fascist than anything.  Incidentally, I find the reduced minimalist panel below to be funnier than the enlarged splash panel version.

That forced hiatus may have proven to be a blessing in disguise, since it gave the author time to do some proper research (which greatly benefited his stories since The Blue Lotus) and go into further detail about The Incas, which would be described in footnotes to the side or below the page, taking up valuable space.

The tiny print is probably the main reason that this particular segment of Tintin hasn't been reprinted in English.  The amount of trivia would only be of interest to subscribers of National Geographic.  And people who'd actually go to the trouble of reading those passages would skim over them once, then forgo those to focus solely on the main story, which'd be more interesting.

In terms of pacing and amount of slapstick mixed with adventurous comic storytelling, only Floyd Gottfredson's Mickey Mouse comes close.  I've speculated that if the Disney cartoonist had managed to reprint his stories in a more conventional and consistent format, he would be far better remembered today.  Indeed, when you look through his strips, there's a fair amount of annoying repetition that some clever editing could solve.

Here, we see an instance of the titular character getting annoyed by a persistent Black Cat that keeps getting attracted to him, no matter how much he tries to shoo him (her?) away.

Some of the panels add a little extra something that's missing in the final presentation.  In the above instance, Tintin is already halfway out the door before he hears Calculus' voice.  The additional panel gives some breathing space that's sorely needed.  Likewise, in the page below, Tintin confronts the Incan who was once General Alcazar's partner.  Since Tintin never met the man, and only saw him from a distance, it makes more sense that he doesn't know who he is at first sight.

Another bonus from getting bonus panels, (some of which are slightly out of sequence from the final product), we get more amusing shenanigans from the Thompsons.


Another instance that was missing - Captain Haddock talking to a stranger in a poncho who only responds a monosyllabic "No sé..." before revealing himself to be Tintin himself.  In that context, the open mouth and grim expression makes more sense.

There are plenty of other instances of deletes scenes, such as encountering a skull post before entering the border to Incan lands, Captain Haddock chewing cocoa leaves to counteract poison in his system, and Captain Haddock finding Gold in the caves that he has to leave behind in order to fit through the tunnels.

Even though the majority of the text is familiar to the source material, it'd be nice to have a more complete version.  The only instance that a serious effort was made to transcribe the Sunday Comic version was in the long-out-of-print The Making of Tintin-In the World of the Inca, which I've seen the cover of on the back of some volume previews, but never the inside.  From what little I've seen, it's mostly documentary stuff instead of actual comic pages.  The only other instance that Tintin was made more interesting was when someone wrote some stuff inside the pages, which were intentionally amusing.

All images taken from this book:

License Request: Paul's Short Stories

Paul up North is easily Michel Rabagliati's most ambitious book yet.  Starting with the opening of an idlylic scene (A feat started since Paul Goes Fishing, and best employed in Paul Joins the Scouts, opening with a six-panel page of repeat moving stills of a shoe caught around a tree branch, the significance of which we don't find out until near the end) revolving around the general excitement of the Montreal Expo and the Olympics.  With the publication of Paul up North, the travails of the iconic quasi-biographical titular character Nostalgic look at Montreal (the best part being the somewhat surreal hitchhike with Paul & a friend towards a party in a snowstorm) has come to a temporary end.

With its simplistic Lingue-Claire drawings, Paul's been referred as the Tintin of Montreal, which is somewhat fitting, since there's a Blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo tribute.  The author/artist is a clear lover of European comics, and it shows, even in a three-panel layer outlook when the European norm is four tiers.

If there's a term that describes the French city, it's a rustic crumbling infrastructure, where the charm comes from flaking bricks still standing despite the years gone by.  And nowhere is that accurately displayed than in Paul's little corner of the world.  (Save for a few pages in Matz and Luc Jacamon's The Killer)

While impressive (and sometimes overly sentimental), it's also a shame, since the events surrounding Paul no longer applies to the author, since his wife left him, his mother's dead, his father's sick, and his dog's gone to the farm.  As a result, it's become somewhat harder for the self author.artist to draw recollections from his life when current personal conditions are no longer as rosy.  And when Lynn Johnson increasingly drew from her preconceived notions of what her life should be, rather than what it actually was, her life-long definitive work suffered as a result.  All of Paul's stories have a aura of heartbreak around its center, but a book filled with nothing but pathos would be difficult to swallow.

There was also an adaption of the book Paul in Québec (which was renamed Song of Roland for some reason)  The Live-Action movie was called Paul on Québec, because consistency be damned.  It was notable for having a brief scene that looked at the printing process of a volume of Red Ketchup Vs. Frankenstein, showing an interior page, flipping the inked flapout on top of the coloured board underneath.  Despite its impressiveness, that particular volume doesn't actually exist.  It was just an excuse to have the Real artist Réal Godbout show up and be posterized for eternity before it was too late, since his adaption of Kafka's Amerika would've gone into obscurity.  (I've been meaning to get back to Red Ketchup, but my usual translator hasn't gotten back to me for years)

Prior to this, the earliest adventures of Paul was composed of mini-stories, such as Paul Apprentice Typographer and Paul in the Metro, first seen in Drawn & Quarterly Vol. 3 & 4, and later reprinted in the Free Comic Book Day sample from 2005.  While these short stories were collected in a French volume of their own, they haven't been compiled in a collection in English, as per my request.  Personally, I'd prefer that they be bundled up with Paul in the Country, the shortest of the Paul books.  But that's not the only missing gem - there are others.

Now, this next bit will require some explaining.  There was a book that had re-drawings of various cartoonist pages.  On one side was the original page, sometimes with the penciled draft left intact.  On the other side was the modern-day artist's interpretation.  Several were in English, but the majority of the book was in French.  This excerpt from a typical Gaston Lagaffe page shows the eternal BoyChild engaging in various disruptive pastime activities far beyond the social norms of an office building.  (Even if said building is the publisher of Spirou Magazine)

And here's Paul's version of events:


Another short one-pager was when Paul was used as an opportunity to showcase the Visual Arts in a French newspaper, Le Devoir.  Here, he takes a very out-of-character moment to showcase the bombastic style of a pushy newspaperman that's more along the likes of Achille Talon, down to his rapid speech and verbal tics.

For the record, there actually IS a Golden Feather Award.  In the first panel below, Paul originally said "On tue la une! on bute la deux! on trucide la trois!"  I rephrased it as best as I could, including the penultimate panel.


But the major find was Paul Goes to the Hardware Store, coming from Cyclops, an anthology of Canadian artists.  As I mentioned before, my Father is somewhat of a finicky handyman, so the following pages quite ticked his funnybone.  More after the cut.

Requested Adaptations: Asterix & the Gaslighter

Just in case you're unfamiliar with the term, Gaslighting is when someone plays up the guilt card by implying and inferring that what you're said was invalid, playing your thoughts against yourself.  Unless there's verifiable recorded proof saying otherwise, you're caught in a game of "I said, You said".  Expert passive-aggressive assault consists of constantly harping over your words, trying to redefine what you've said in painstaking minutiae essay-length detail that causes your innocuous remark to die in the process.

The rise of the Alt-Right online, spreading their rhetoric of hatred has had large implications not just in America, but also across waters with the dissolution of the E.U.  A bunch of rowdy politicians who wanted to implement their narrow visions upon the world, only to succeed beyond their wildest dreams.  But winning through the narrowest of defined victories had extravagant costs that they're just beginning to find out. They never intended to win in the first place, let alone grant all the promises they made in order to gain popularity and eyes their direction.  Now that they're forced to live with the decisions of the (stupid) mass majorities, they're faced with the unenviable choice to either follow-through on their impossible demands, or boldly forge ahead, and risk being lampooned for generations to come.  Backpedaling on reneging their promises would make them look weak otherwise, and they wouldn't want to risk admitting they had no plans beyond winning.

At a time where truth and fiction are considered interchangeable, and the news that's considered more favorable is constantly being won out due to personal preferences, an adaptation of Asterix and the Roman Agent seems more appropriate than ever before.  But only if done by the same team of Alexandre Astier and Louis Clichy, faithfully capturing the spirit of the books with Mansions of the Gods.  (Which I greatly recommend, despite reservations over some wonky translation issues)

The scene-stealer is Tortuous Convolvulus, whose mere presence causes everybody in his vicinity to lose their collective minds, even when they're aware of his ability or not.  Long-overheld grievances are suddenly brought out into the open, hostilities arise, and infighting becomes rampant.  It only takes the slightest nudging in a general direction to further flame the fans of war beyond their reasonable limits.

Not too shabby for a smug midget who has the facial features reminiscent of The Grinch.

Of course, when adapting a story from one medium to another, certain liberties would have to be taken.  We'd lose the visual impact of the infected parties speaking in Green-hued balloons, but that could be easily conveyed through having the speaker's eyes glow a persistent bright green instead.  What counts is successfully implementing various concepts from others that wouldn't normally fit in a singular story.

In the past, they meshed two divergent Asterix books, The Big Fight and The Soothsayer to create Un Coup de Menhir (Operation Getafix), and Asterix the Legionary and Asterix the Gladiator into Asterix Versus Caesar, neither of which was as great as they could've been.  The two (unadapted) Asterix books closest in theme of money, Obelix & Co. and Asterix & the Cauldron are wildly different in story structure.  One is a broad satire of Capitalism, the other a monetary journey fraught with failure.  (Asterix is skillfully adept at maneuvering people, but he's an awful businessman, since he doesn't understand finance)  For Mansions of the Gods, they used the Senator from Asterix in Belgium, and the catapult from Caesar's Gift.  By picking and choosing selective elements into a cohesive whole.

And causing arguments over how a technical term is pronounced.

By the same token, there's certain potential elements that could be gleamed from other books that would be considered unadaptable, yet be additive enough to the overall theme than they'd be on their own.  Keep in mind that these are merely suggestions for a theoretical project that as far as I know, hasn't even begun production yet.

For starters, the constant arguments between Asterix and Obelix where they fight like an old married couple would suddenly have stronger consequences and meaning in this story than their squabbles would have elsewhere.  This instance here shows how pervasive Convolvulus' influence is, causing fractures to appear even between the closest of friends.

If, at any point, Obelix's Green-Eyed glow spreads over his upper half,
and his striped pants turn purple, that's a time to worry.

And then, shortly after Obelix angrily marches off in a huff, his conviction fades away, wondering just what he was so upset about in the first place.  There have been multiple instances of the two breaking up, sulking, and making up within a very short time frame.  But I don't think they've ever been captured in a meaningful context.

Another appropriate element to borrow from Caesar's Gift would be Getafix refusing to dole out Magic Potion for the pursuit of domestic squabbles, which'd only increase rising tensions.  Other than fighting over fish, fighting over suspicion would be frowned upon.  Which would be frowned upon, since it'd look like Getafix is suddenly sympathetic towards Roman ideals.

One final element would be the portrayal of a mock trial heavily biased towards Asterix for having suspicious relations with a Foreign power who's on friendly terms, despite his constant denials.

You can just see Asterix fending off the Council's baseless claims with an almost bored expression, being slightly insulted at being probed in this manner, much like Clinton's constant investigations on Benghazi.  I also wouldn't mind seeing more scenes of Asterix trading verbal barbs against the Roman Agent, since Convolvulus is the closest thing he has to a mental heavyweight.

One last thing to consider is the consequences of trolling your base.  When you expound easily disproved facts over and over, the followers behind the instigators start to believe their own lies.

Once they've succeeded in accomplishing their aims, their only recourse is to eat their own.  The worst way to quash someone's dreams, ironically enough, is to grant every one of their wishes.  These newfound lofty positions turn out to be the poisoned chalices, the inevitable result of having every perceived obstacle casually cast aside.  When your entire modus operandi is built on conflict, and there's no more resistance, falling back on peaceful norms is practically improbable.

A possible conflict of interest in copyright infringement would be in capturing the portrayal of the General in charge.  You'd never convince a modern-day reader that the Roman General above, Felix Platypus is a caricature of French actor, Lino Ventura, and not Sylvester Stallone.  But that could be easily overcome by simply reusing General Somniferus from Mansions of the Gods.  As I've said, just throwing these ideas out there.