X'Ed Out (2010), by Charles Burn

[Texte écrit pour un site qui sollicitait des critiques de graphic novels, mais qui finalement ne veulent pas s'embarquer là-dedans.  Je le partage donc ici.]

If you've read Burns' Black Hole (which came out from 1995 to 2004, before being collected in 2005), you have an idea of what to expect here: a devastatingly disturbing tale rendered in stark, precise, razor-like strokes.  Whereas Black Hole dealt with teenagers (and the shattering transformations ― or should we say 'mutations'? ― they go through), here the protagonist is a young man, Doug, who is going through the aftermath of some kind of accident or trauma.

In a seemingly random fashion, his story his relayed to us, whether through drug-induced dreams or through flashbacks, the two modes (dream / memory) being distinguished by a subtle visual shift.

In his dreams, Doug is like Tintin's dark-haired non-identical twin, wandering through a shifty dream-world reminiscent of William Burroughs' Interzone; there, he wanders in a city reminiscent of archetypal Morocco peopled by various exotic people (from warehouse reptile-men to mute cycloptic cooks to midget-sumo guides), alternating (as in a nightmare) between fear and disgust.

In the memories, he and his surroundings are more realistic, and we see him at various points of his life: recovering from some unidentified head-wound, strung out on pain-pills; having breakfast with his father; going to a party with his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, giving a poetry performance and then falling in love with another girl; dating this new girl, with whom he shares a passion for photography.

The referential echoes to Hergé's boy-reporter are plenty, from the strange eggs featured on the cover and in a gross restaurant sequence (see: the mushroom from L'Étoile Mystérieuse) to his occasional animal companion (Inky the Cat, Snowy the Dog's negative image) to the character's stage-name (Nitnit).  But mostly, it is through the comic's color palette and "ligne claire" style of drawing that this homage to Hergé is most manifest.

All in all, it is a most worthwhile effort on Burns' part, demonstrating a mastery of style, content and execution, and the semantic hyperlinks to Burroughs, Hergé (or even his own work) are not detrimental to the book's overall merit, on the contrary.  They elevate it to something more than just a "weird for weird's sake" narrative.  What that "more" is, well, it remains to be seen.

If I had one negative thing to say about it: it's over too quickly.  Just as we're starting to get fully immersed into this universe, it cuts off.  The final image is impressive and awe-inspiring, but still, I can't help but wish there was more.  It's an unfair criticism, for sure, and one that will become irrelevant in the future, when the other two planned volumes (or albums, in the French and Belgian "bande dessinée" meaning of the word) are out.  But seeing as we can expect months and even years before the tale is complete, it's unavoidable.  Still, maybe the wait is good.  Maybe that expectant anticipation is all part of what makes comics such an engaging passion.  And in the meantime, we can read this first volume again, and float in its rich, interwoven layers.