Book Journeys: Freddy Lombard

For as long as I can remember I have the loved the ligne claire comic genre or, at least, certainly loved it a lot longer than I have known the term 'ligne claire'. Like a lot of other youngsters in the 20th century my love was primarily fixated on Herge's immortal Tintin comics. The term 'ligne claire' translates to 'clear line' and refers to the un-shaded style of illustrating comics that was invented by Herge. As such, it's a genre defined by look more than anything else, though the popularity of the Tintin comics has infused the genre with other conventions related to storytelling, characterisation, setting, common motifs, etc.  

As I've grown older (and matured like the dried-out husk of a cactus that refuses to die) I've sought out other comics in this style - Yoko Tsuno, Julian Chancer, Blake and Mortimer. Each of these have their own charms but, truth be told, none holds a candle to Herge's ageless and intrepid reporter. There is, however, a series called Freddy Lombard that has accolades of its own. I'd always seen the cover of the single-volume Freddy Lombard collection and been put off by the protagonist's Tintin-esque look. I mean, he just looks like a shameless imitation. Eventually though, propelled by the many favourable reviews this series attracts, I caved and checked it out.

Freddy Lombard is perhaps the closest thing to Tintin's equal within the ligne claire genre. Although, in saying that, I do both texts a disservice as their similarities are purely superficial.
 
There are five volumes of adventures for Freddy Lombard and his friends Dina and Sweep and the tragedy is that there will never be any more, owing to the untimely death of author/illustrator Yves Chaland in a car accident at the age of 33. Written in the 1980s, the Freddy Lombard series starts in goof-ish, good-natured fashion before maturing exponentially with each subsequent volume. The content of the later volumes decidedly break from the child-friendly realm of Tintin with content increasingly adult in nature; sophisticated storytelling that hinges on the psychological, the political, and even the disturbing.

There's something cinematic about the way Chaland stages the elements within each frame. The top extreme wide shot displays a character on the far right in miniscule (denoting his vulnerability to the open sky outside) as a sliver of light cracks across the cargo hold of the plane, then - frame by frame - the light washes over him and he moves up into the centre of the frame to meet it, conveying the moment that his mind seems to snap in the face of danger.

A quick overview of the stories within the collection:

The Will of Godfrey of Bouillon (First published in 1981, when Chaland was 24)

The most 'throwaway' of Freddy Lombard's adventures and not the best introduction to the series. Freddy and his friends, seemingly a trio of travelling hobos, assist a rich alcoholic in trying to locate a treasure in a medieval castle. The treasure-search is actually a framing device and most of this comic focuses on a comedic dream sequence where Freddy imagines himself back in the middle ages. 

An African Adventure (Released in 1984, when Chaland was 27)

The gang travel to Africa to hunt for a unique photographic plate on behalf of a collector. Chaland, whilst unfortunately leaning on visual stereotypes for the African characters, explores and deconstructs certain themes tied to colonialism. In this tale the reader is shown where Freddy and his friends live, a run-down building in 1930s Paris where they must huddle-together against the elements and are constantly on the lookout for either food or money. 

The Elephant's Graveyard (Released alongside 'An African Adventure' in the same volume in 1984)

Another African-themed adventure that explores the ramifications of colonialism for the coloniser and, despite taking a humourous approach to a murder mystery, finishes with a surprisingly poignant and affecting resolution. 

The Comet of Carthage (Published in 1986, when Chaland was 29)

This marks the point where the series takes on a more mature tone, with Freddy and his peers moonlighting by the Mediterranean where Freddy has become obsessed with saving a beautiful Tunisian muse from the artist who paints her. A more meditative and 'adult' piece, calling to mind the sort of European sensibility more often found in Italian New Wave cinema.

Holiday in Budapest (Published in 1988, when Chaland was 31)

Set in the Hungarian Revolution of 1956, Freddy and his chums find themselves dramatically caught up in events as the country rapidly descends into destruction and potential collapse. Chaland does something quite deft in plotting a character-based quest within such a turbulent historical event, managing to convey a sense of apocalyptic doom, national hope, the Soviet mindset, and outright chaos.

F.52 (Published in 1990, when Chaland was 33)

The crowning glory and true gem of the collection, F.52 sees Freddy, Dina and Sweep working as cabin crew on the first atomic-powered flight from Paris to Melbourne. Claustrophobic and meticulously-plotted, F.52 presents a Hitchcock-esque web of increasingly tangled subplots and builds to a tense denouement that borders on the surreal. 

And then that's it, there's no more. Once I got to the end of this collection I felt a profound sense of sadness for the tragedy of Chaland's early death and the Freddy Lombard stories that were never written. I know I will be revisiting these stories from time to time; they're that special. I guess the bittersweet silver-lining here is that Chaland's genius lives on in this handful of adventures that he left behind.