Gomer Goof volume 10: Gomers Goons


By Franquin, translated byJerome Saincantin (Cinebook)
ISBN: 978-1-80044-092-0 (PB Album/Digital edition)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced in less enlightened times.

André Franquin was born in Etterbeek, Belgium on January 3rd 1924 and began his astonishing comics career in a golden age of European cartooning. Beginning as assistant to Joseph “Jijé” Gillain on the strip Spirou, he inherited sole control of the keynote feature in 1946, and went on to create countless unforgettable new characters like Fantasio and The Marsupilami.

Franquin – with Jijé, Morris (Lucky Luke) and Willy “Will” (Tif et Tondu) Maltaite – was co-founder of creative powerhouse La bande des quatre: “the Gang of Four” who reshaped and revolutionised Belgian comics and all European cartooning with their prolific and engaging “Marcinelle school” graphic style.

Over two decades Franquin made the strip purely his, expanding Spirou & Fantasio’s scope and horizons, as they became globetrotting journalists who visited exotic places, exposed crimes, explored the incredible and clashed with bizarre, exotic arch-enemies. Throughout, Fantasio remained a full-fledged – albeit entirely fictional – reporter for Le Journal de Spirou, popping back to base between assignments. Sadly, ensconced there was an arrogant, accident-prone office junior tasked with minor jobs and general dogs-bodying. This was Gaston Lagaffe – Franquin’s second immortal invention…

There’s a long tradition of comics personalising fictitiously back-office creatives and the arcane processes they indulge in, whether it’s Marvel’s Bullpen or DC Thomson’s lugubrious Editor and underlings at The Beano and Dandy – it’s a truly international practise. Somehow though after debuting in Le Journal de Spirou #985 (February 28th 1957), the affable dimwit grew beyond control to become one of the most popular and ubiquitous components of the comic, whether as a guest in Spirou’s adventures or his own comedy strips and/or faux reports on the editorial pages he was supposed to paste up. Initial cameos in Spirou yarns or occasional asides on text pages featured well-meaning foul-up and ostensible gofer Gaston lurking and lounging amidst a crowd of diligent toilers: a workshy slacker employed as a general assistant at Le Journal de Spirou’s head office. The scruffy bit-player eventually and inevitably shambled into his own star feature…

In terms of schtick and delivery, older readers will recognise favourite beats and elements of well-intentioned helpfulness wedded to irrepressible self-delusion as seen in Benny Hill or Jacques Tati vehicles and recognise recurring riffs from Some Mothers Do Have ’Em and Mr Bean. It’s all blunt-force slapstick, paralysing puns, fantastic ingenuity and inspired invention, compiled to mug smugness, puncture pomposity, lampoon the status quoi? (that there’s some British punning, see?) and ensure no good deed goes noticed, rewarded or unpunished…

As previously stated, Gaston/Gomer obtains a regular salary – let’s not dignify what he does as “earning” a living – from Spirou’s editorial offices: initially reporting to top journalist Fantasio, and latterly complicating the lives of office manager Léon Prunelle and the other staffers, all whilst effectively ignoring any tasks he’s paid to actually handle. These include page paste-up, posting packages, filing, clean-up, collecting stuff inbound from off-site and editing readers’ letters (the real reason fans requests and suggestions are never acknowledged or answered)…

Gomer is lazy, hyperkinetic, over-opinionated, ever-ravenous, impetuous, underfed, forgetful and eternally hungry: a passionate sports fan and animal lover with his most manic moments all stemming from cutting work corners, stashing or consuming contraband nosh in the office or inventing the Next Big Thing. It leads to constant clashes with colleagues and draws in notionally unaffiliated bystanders like traffic cop Longsnoot and fireman Captain Morwater, as well as ordinary passers-by who should know by now to keep away from this street.

Through it all the office oaf remains affable, easy-going and incorrigible. Only three questions really matter: why everyone keeps giving him one last chance, what does gentle, lovelorn Miss Jeanne see in the self-opinionated idiot and will perpetually-outraged capitalist financier De Mesmaeker ever get his perennial, pestiferous contracts signed?

In 1974 Gaston – Le gang des gaffeurs was the 12th collected album and in 2023 became Cinebook’s 10th translated compilation, offering single page bursts and some half-page sight gags: non-stop all-Franquin comics jabs and japes, with a few ideas and contributions from colleagues Joop, Degotte and Yvan (The Smurfs, Steve Severin, Idées noires) Delporte.

The assistants were necessary as Franquin’s mental health was increasingly being affected by stress. After this album the frequency of Gaston collections reduced by 50%…

Here an increased spotlight falls upon distressed in-house staff artist Yves (occasionally called Yvon) Lebrac who often acted as unwilling, inadvertent beta tester for our well-meaning, overly-helpful, know-it-all office hindrance. This tome is packed with innovations that make Lebrac’s life increasingly annoying and unnecessarily hazardous, such as super-amped central heating so workers can make toast on radiators, a retractable, ceiling-mounted eraser, assorted games, further experiments with (light-repelling) aerosol air-fresheners and paste-up adhesives that just should not be allowed under the Geneva Convention…

Crucially, Gomer’s pets regard Lebrac’s desk and drawing board as their playground but are always ready to have him join in their games…

Whilst concentrating on avoiding his job, The Goof always seeks to improve life for his animal pals. The adopted feral cat and black-headed gull still accompany illicit studio companions Cheese the mouse in many destructive romps but it’s studio goldfish Bubelle who really benefits this time as Gomer installs several solutions to improve mobility and grant the water-dweller FULL access to the building…

When not pursuing illicit culinary dreams – like lighter-than-air pancakes made on a desktop crêpe fryer – Gomer is quick to solve pressing problems such as a cat very stridently trapped in a bass tuba, but even that paralysing din is as nothing to the near-lethal advent of ultrasonic violin tuning, A.I. cup-&-ball machine, casual/office-wear robot suits, self-emptying pedal bins, recycling Soviet components for airplane models, the most wonderful couch on Earth, Inter-Office ski-lift systems and accidentally perfecting the most volatile motion-sensitive explosive ever to grace an art kit…

The installation of roller towels in the toilets sparks a wave of (dangerous) inspiration and innovation and when Gomer’s like-minded chum, opposite number and born accomplice Jules-from-Smith’s-across-the-street joins him in moonlighting as advertising prop makers, the resulting giant shoe fiasco sets the entire city panicking. Ever-eager to slope off for a chat, Jules is also a confirmed devotee of Gomer’s sporting methods for passing the time at work and complicit in seducing the office redecorators: turning hard-working diligent toilers to their laggardly ways, and introducing them to the joys of adventure cooking, citizen chemistry and colossally big bangs…

Semi-regular burglar Freddy falls foul of Gomer’s lethal filing system – something Prunelle also suffers from often – but both are mercifully absent when the inventor’s inquiries into aural animal attractant whistles (affecting owls, mosquitos, moles, and a certain (uniformed) species of “Pig”) make an extended camping trip to “Gus’s farm” a weird nightmare…

Also on view are more skirmishes in the ongoing car-parking war with Longsnoot and a succession of sporting gags including a clash with a karate master, snow paddleball and swamp football, but in the end even our recumbent genius has no cure for peasouper fog – although his quick work-around does get the city moving… in the wrong direction…

Far better enjoyed than précised or described, these strips allowed Franquin and his occasional co-scenarists to flex whimsical muscles, subversively sneak in satirical support for their beliefs in pacifism, environmentalism and animal rights and sometimes even appear in person…

These are sublime examples of all-ages comedy: wholesome, barbed, daft and incrementally funnier with every re-reading. Why haven’t you got your Goof on yet?
© Dupuis, Dargaud-Lombard s.a. 2009 by Franquin. All rights reserved. English translation © 2023 Cinebook Ltd.

Gomer Goof volume 9: Good Golly, Mr. Goof!


By Franquin, with additional texts by Delporte, translated by Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook)
ISBN: 978-1-80044-064-7 (PB Album/Digital edition)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced during less enlightened times.

André Franquin was born in Etterbeek, Belgium on January 3rd 1924 and began his career in a golden age of European cartooning. Beginning as assistant to Joseph “Jijé” Gillain on the strip Spirou, he inherited sole control of the keynote feature in 1946, and creating countless unforgettable new characters such as Fantasio and The Marsupilami.

Franquin – with Jijé, Morris (Lucky Luke) and Willy “Will” Maltaite (Tif et Tondu) – was a co-founder of a creative force of nature dubbed La bande des quatre – “the Gang of Four” – who revolutionised and reshaped Belgian comics with their prolific and engaging “Marcinelle school” graphic style.

Over two decades Franquin enlarged Spirou & Fantasio’s scope and horizons, until it became purely his as the strip evolved into the saga of globetrotting journalists. They visited exotic places, exposed crimes, explored the incredible and clashed with bizarre, exotic arch-enemies, but throughout, Fantasio remained a full-fledged – albeit entirely fictional – reporter for Le Journal de Spirou, regularly popping back to the office between assignments. Sadly, lurking there was an arrogant, accident-prone junior tasked with minor jobs and general dogs-bodying. He was Gaston Lagaffe – Franquin’s other immortal invention…

There’s a long tradition of comics personalising fictitiously back-office creatives and the arcane processes they indulge in, whether it’s Marvel’s Bullpen or DC Thomson’s lugubrious Editor and underlings at The Beano and Dandy – it’s a truly international practise. Somehow though after debuting in Le Journal de Spirou #985 (February 28th 1957), the affable conniving dimwit grew beyond control, to become one of the most popular and ubiquitous components of the comic, whether as a guest in Spirou’s adventures or his own comedy strips and faux reports on the editorial pages he was supposed to paste up…

Initial cameos in Spirou yarns and occasional asides on text pages featured a well-meaning foul-up and ostensible office gofer Gaston who lurked amidst the crowd of diligent toilers: a workshy slacker working (sic) as a gofer at Le Journal de Spirou’s head office. That scruffy bit-player eventually and inevitably shambled into his own star feature…

In terms of schtick and delivery, older readers will recognise favourite beats and elements of well-intentioned self-delusion as seen in Benny Hill or Jacques Tati and recognise recurring riffs from Some Mothers Do Have ’Em and Mr Bean. It’s slapstick, paralysing puns, infernal ingenuity and inspired invention, all to mug smugness, puncture pomposity, lampoon the status quoi? (there’s some of that punning there, see?) and ensure no good deed going noticed, rewarded or unpunished…

As previously stated, Gaston/Gomer obtains a regular salary – let’s not dignify what he does as “earning” a living – from Spirou’s editorial offices: reporting to top journalist Fantasio, or complicating the lives of office manager Léon Prunelle and the other staffers, all whilst effectively ignoring any tasks he’s paid to handle. These officially include page paste-up, posting (initially fragile) packages, collecting stuff inbound and editing readers’ letters (that’s the official reason fans’ requests and suggestions are never acknowledged or answered)…

Gomer is lazy, over-opinionated, ever-ravenous, impetuous, underfed, forgetful and eternally hungry, a passionate sports fan and animal lover, with his most manic moments all stemming from cutting work corners, stashing or consuming contraband nosh in the office or inventing the Next Big Thing.

This leads to constant clashes with colleagues and draws in notionally unaffiliated bystanders like traffic cop Longsnoot and fireman Captain Morwater, as well as any simple passers-by who should know by now to keep away from this street.

Through it all our office oaf remains eternally affable, easy-going and incorrigible. Only three questions really matter here: why everyone keeps giving him one last chance, what can gentle, lovelorn Miss Jeanne possible see in the self-opinionated idiot and will ever-outraged capitalist financier De Mesmaeker ever get his perennial, pestiferous contracts signed?

In 1973 Gaston – Gaffes, bévues et boulettes was the 11th collected album (albeit rejigged in 2018 to become the 16th European compilation). It became in 2022 Cinebook’s 9th translated compilation, once more offering non-stop all-Franquin comics gags in single page bursts with some script contributions from Yvan Delporte (The Smurfs, Steve Severin, Idées noires).

Our well-meaning, overconfident, overly-helpful know-it-all office hindrance invents more stuff making life unnecessarily dangerous and continues his pioneering and perilous attempts to befriend and boost fauna and flora alike, always improving the beleaguered modern mechanised world. As he concentrates on avoiding his job, Gomer’s big heart swells to nurture his animal pals. His adopted feral cat and black-headed gull still accompany illicit studio companions Cheese the mouse and goldfish Bubelle, but their hyperactive gluttonous presences generate much chaos, especially as they have learned to work together now. Not only must Gaston face starvation on a daily basis, but even the street’s shopkeepers find themselves in a silent war of nutrition attrition…

The dreamer also fosters the belief that he is a musical prodigy only awaiting discovery, but in a wave of Christmas strips everyone else remains violently unconvinced, as they are of his painful innovations in furniture design. Gomer’s chum and opposite number Jules-from-Smith’s-across-the-street is a like-minded soul and born accomplice, ever-eager to slope off for a chat, and a confirmed devotee of Gomer’s methods of passing the time whilst at work. He is always ready to help, as here when assisting in facing the out-of-control cactus from Aunt Hortense’s home again or joining his pal’s bike racing escapade…

Sport is important to the Goof, but rugby, soccer, basketball, billiards and – technically – ice skating all prove faithless and painful masters, but such is his passion, however, that Gomer is allowed to report on one peculiar particular match he played goal keeper in, as seen in illustrated text report ‘A Match to Remember’

Despite resolute green credentials and leanings, Gomer is colour-blind to the problems his antiquated automobile cause, even after all his attempts to soup up the antique. Many strips focus on his doomed love affair with and manic efforts to modify and mollify the accursed motorised atrocity he calls his car. The decrepit, dilapidated Fiat 509 is more in need of merciful euthanasia than engineering interventions for countering its lethal road pollution and violent and unpredictable failures to function. Here, new tweaks certainly impress passing wildlife if not obsessive gendarme Longsnoot in splendidly daft road dalliances intermixed with repeated visits to his friends at the zoo. Hint: none of them wear clothes…

Also suffering a succession of painful reversals, benighted yet fanatical business bod De Mesmaeker turns up repeatedly here with ever more crucial contracts for poor office manager Prunelle to sign and for Gomer to accidentally shred or otherwise intercept and eradicate.

A new edifice of the Establishment to undergo the Goof effect is the local Customs officer who on more than one occasion deeply regrets asking if the geek in the poisonous car has anything to declare, although brief explorations of motorcycling and yoga don’t cause that much carnage relative to the general aura of weird science prototypes, arcane chemical concoctions and the in-house manic menagerie able to shred chairs and open sardine tins with a bash of the beak. At least Gomer understands why redecorating costs are so high and frequent…

Far better enjoyed than précised or described, these strips allowed Franquin and occasional co-scenarists/idea providers like Roba, Bibi, Michel, Delporte & Jidéhem (AKA Jean De Mesmaeker: just one of many in-joke analogues who populate the strip) to flex whimsical muscles, subversively sneak in some satirical support for their beliefs in pacifism, environmentalism and animal rights and sometimes even appear in person as does poor Raoul Bluecoats Cauvin…

These gags are sublime examples of all-ages comedy: wholesome, barbed, daft and incrementally funnier with every re-reading. Why haven’t you got your Goof on yet?
© Dupuis, Dargaud-Lombard s.a. 2009 by Franquin. All rights reserved. English translation © 2022 Cinebook Ltd.

Spirou & Fantasio volume 21: The Prisoner of the Buddha


By André Franquin, Jidéhem & Greg, translated by Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook)
ISBN: 978-1-80044-135-4 (Album PB/Digital edition)

This book includes Discriminatory Content produced during less enlightened times.

Spirou (whose name translates as “squirrel”, “mischievous” and “lively kid” in the language of Walloons) was created by French cartoonist François Robert Velter – AKA Rob-Vel – for Belgian publisher Éditions Dupuis. The evergreen youngster in red was a response to the success of Hergé’s Tintin at rival outfit Casterman. In the beginning, the character Spirou was a plucky bellboy/lift operator employed by the Moustique Hotel (an in-joke reference to Dupuis’ premier periodical Le Moustique) whose improbable adventures with pet squirrel Spip evolved into astounding and often surreal comedy dramas.

The other red-headed boy adventurer debuted on April 21st 1938 in an 8-page tabloid magazine that bears his name to this day. Fronting a roster of new and licensed foreign strips – Fernand Dineur’s Les Aventures de Tif (latterly Tif et Tondu) and US newspaper imports Red Ryder, Brick Bradford and Superman – the now-legendary anthology Le Journal de Spirou expanded exponentially: adding Flemish-language edition Robbedoes on October 27th 1938, boosting page counts and adding action, fantasy and comedy features until it was an unassailable, unmissable necessity for continental kids.

Spirou and chums helmed the magazine for most of its life, with many notable creators building on Velter’s work, beginning with his wife Blanche “Davine” Dumoulin. She took over the strip when her husband enlisted in 1939, aided by Belgian artist Luc Lafnet until 1943, when Dupuis purchased all rights to the feature. Thereafter comic strip prodigy Joseph Gillain (“Jijé”) took over, until 1946 when his assistant André Franquin inherited the entire affair. Gradually, the new auteur retired traditional short gag vignettes in favour of longer adventure serials, introducing a wide returning cast. Ultimately, Franquin created his own milestone character. Phenomenally popular animal Marsupilami debuted in 1952’s Spirou et les héritiers and became a scene-stealing regular and eventually one of the most significant stars of European comics.

Jean-Claude Fournier succeeded Franquin: overhauling the feature over nine stirring serial adventures between 1969-1979 by tapping into a rebellious, relevant zeitgeist in tales of drug cartels, environmental concerns, nuclear energy and repressive regimes. By the 1980s, the series seemed stalled: three different creative teams alternated on the serial: Yves Chaland, Raoul Cauvin & Nic Broca and significantly Philippe Vandevelde writing as “Tome” & artist Jean-Richard Geurts – AKA Janry.

These last reverently referenced the revered and beloved Franquin era: reviving the feature’s fortunes over 14 wonderful albums between 1984-1998. On their departure the strip diversified into parallel strands: Spirou’s Childhood/Little Spirou and guest-creator specials A Spirou Story By…

Later teams and guests to tackle the wonder boys include Lewis Trondheim, Jean-Davide Morvan & Jose-Luis Munuera, Fabien Vehlmann & Yoann, Benoît Feroumont, Emile Bravo, Jul & Libon, Makyo, Toldac & Tehem, Guerrive, Abitan & Schwartz, Frank le Gall, Flix and so many more. By my count that brings the album count to approximately 92 if you include specials, spin-offs series and one-shots, official and otherwise. Happily, in recent years, even some of the older vintages have been reprinted in French, but there are still dozens that have not made it into English yet. Quelle sodding horreur!

Cinebook have been publishing Spirou & Fantasio’s exploits since October 2009, initially concentrating on bringing Tome & Janry’s superb pastiche/homages of Franquin before dipping into the original Franquin oeuvre and adding later tales by some of the bunch listed above, but for their 21st manic marvel they reached back all the way to 1959 for a purely Franquin-formulated furore. Originally serialised in LJdS #1048-1082 prior to its release as album Le prisonnier du Bouddha in March 1961, this slick tale of Cold War tensions, silly sci fi and outrageous satire sees the master in collaborative mode with Jidéhem (Jean De Mesmaeker) and Greg (Michel Regnier)…

On January 3rd 1924, Belgian comics superstar André Franquin was born in Etterbeek. Drawing from an early age, he began formal art training at École Saint-Luc in 1943. When the war forced the school’s closure a year later, Franquin found work at Brussels’ Compagnie Belge d’Animation as an animator. There he met future bande dessinée superstars Maurice de Bevere (Lucky Luke-creator “Morris”), Pierre Culliford/Peyo (creator of The Smurfs) and Eddy Paape (Valhardi, Luc Orient).

In 1945 everyone but Culliford signed on with Dupuis, and Franquin began his career as a jobbing cartoonist/illustrator. He produced covers for Le Moustique and scouting magazine Plein Jeu and, throughout those early days, was with Morris trained by Jijé. At that time main illustrator at Le Journal de Spirou, Jijé turned the youngsters and fellow neophyte Willy Maltaite – AKA Will (Tif et Tondu, Isabelle, Le jardin des désirs) – into a creative bullpen known as the La bande des quatre. This “Gang of Four” promptly revolutionised Belgian comics with their engaging “Marcinelle school” style of graphic storytelling.

Jijé handed Franquin all responsibilities for the flagship strip part-way through Spirou et la maison préfabriquée, (LJdS #427, June 20th 1946) and the eager beaver ran with it for two decades, enlarging the scope and horizons until it became purely his own. Almost every episode, fans would meet startling new characters like comrade/rival Fantasio or crackpot inventor The Count of Champignac.

Spirou & Fantasio became globe-trotting troubleshooting journalists, endlessly expanding their exploits in unbroken four-colour glory. They travelled to exotic places, uncovering crimes, capturing the fantastic and clashing with a coterie of extraordinary arch-enemies such as Zorglub and Zantafio. Along the way Franquin premiered one of the first strong female characters in European comics – competitor journalist Seccotine who is renamed Cellophine in current English translations.

In a splendid example of good practise, Franquin mentored his own apprentice cartoonists during the 1950s. These included Jean Roba (La Ribambelle, Boule et Bill), Jidéhem (Sophie, Starter, Gaston Lagaffe) and Greg (Bruno Brazil, Bernard Prince, Zig et Puce, Achille Talon), who all worked with him on Spirou et Fantasio. In 1955, a contractual spat with Dupuis led to Franquin signing up with rivals Casterman on Le Journal de Tintin, where he collaborated with René Goscinny and old pal Peyo whilst also creating raucous gag strip Modeste et Pompon. Franquin quickly patched things up with Dupuis and returned to LJdS, subsequently co-creating Gaston Lagaffe (AKA Gomer Goof) in 1957, but was still obliged to carry on those Casterman commitments too…

From 1959, writer Greg and background artist Jidéhem began regularly assisting Franquin, but by 1969 the master storyteller had reached his Spirou limit. He quit, taking his mystic yellow monkey with him…

His later creations include fantasy series Isabelle, illustration sequence Monsters and bleak adult conceptual series Idées Noires, but his greatest creation – and one he retained all rights to on his departure – was Marsupilami, which – in addition to comics – has become a megastar of screen, plush toy store, console and albums.

Plagued in later life by bouts of depression and cardiac problems, Franquin passed away on January 5th 1997, but his legacy remains: a vast body of work that reshaped the landscape of European comics.

Let’s review happier if undoubtedly scarier days here in a Cold War classic where Spirou and Fantasio revisit rural melting pot Champignac-in-the-Sticks after strangely losing touch with crackpot inventor and Merlin of mushroom mechanics Pacôme Hégésippe Adélard Ladislas de Champignac – the aforementioned Count of Champignac.

The idyllic hamlet is in turmoil with the incipient opening of this year’s Cattle Festival ramping up regular bucolic angst. Its picturesque streets are filled with self-determined cows and short-tempered farmers, meaning the two investigators really have to watch their steps…

Finding the ramshackle chateau turned into a super-secure fortress, the lads and Spip – in truth impatient, impolite Marsupilami – break into the once-familiar estate and discover it has become a wild kingdom of gigantic plants. Eventually rescued by their odd old friend from encroaching green hells, the boys are unaware the Count is concealing another guest – until

after many odd incidents they meet timid nuclear physicist, potential Soviet defector and fellow scientist of conscience Professor Nikolai Nikolayevitch Inovskiev. The hulking gentle giant has invented something that will change the world and doesn’t want its incredible power abused…

He calls his little box of tricks a Gamma Atomic Generator (GAG for short) and it can promote rapid and monstrous plant growth, create severe but localised weather effects and cancel gravity – and it fits into a jacket pocket…

As the boys endure an accidental indoor blizzard, two enemy agents observe from outside before being accidentally but painfully caught in the GAG’s destructive effects. Terrified of the device being misused by the capitalist West, they make plans to steal it back during the cattle show, but Spirou and Fantasio foil the scheme – but only after the GAG makes the farm fest a chaotic, never to be forgotten Fortean event for the entire village…

Thinking job done and world saved, our heroes are horrified to learn from the shellshocked spies that the GAG is not unique. In communist China, Inovskiev’s covert collaborator – American Harold W. Hailmary – is a prisoner of the People’s Republic and surely cannot hold out much longer in delivering them the magic box and all its secrets…

Coincidentally, at that moment in British-controlled Hong Kong, a smuggled message reaches the Chief of Police: an American is imprisoned somewhere in the heart of the Valley of the Seven Buddhas…

When dapper British agents Douglas and Harvey attempt to interview Champignac and the boys, they discover the missing Russian and implore them all to act in a manner Her Majesty’s Government would unofficially look kindly upon even as it turned a blind eye…

Soon, equipped with the GAG, Spirou, Fantasio, Spip and the Marsupilami are sneaking across the Chinese border and heading into one of the most eccentric and spectacular missions of their lives… one replete with deadly peril, fantastic feats, spectacular chases, tank battles and hairsbreadth escapes, all leavened with outrageous surreal slapstick and deviously trenchant satire…

This edgily exuberant yarn is packed with action, thrills and spills and also offers a remarkably even-handed appraisal of Cold War politics messaging and always-timely moral.

Readily accessible to readers of all ages and drawn with all the beguiling style and seductive wholesome élan which makes Asterix, Lucky Luke and Yakari so compelling, this is a truly outstanding – and funny! – tale from a long line of superb exploits, proving our heroes deserve to be English language household names as much as those series – and even that other kid with the white dog…
Original edition © Dupuis, 1960 by Franquin, Jidéhem & Greg. All rights reserved. English translation 2024 © Cinebook Ltd.