La BD a Bruxelles (or how I relived my childhood at the comic strip museums)

Yours truly in front of the famous "On a marche sur la lune" rocket.

As a Frenchie growing up in an English country, you'd think my childhood would have become immersed in anglo-culture. You'd be partially right, in as much as television, music, and books might go, but my mother thankfully kept our French traditions alive by buying us the weekly Spirou comic book magazine and occasionally gifting us hardcovers of the latest Tintin and Asterix adventures. I did not know as a child that these two works were at the heart of the Franco-Belgian comic book tradition, one that also includes many of my other favourites. Unlike the American superhero comics that some of my contemporaries grew up reading, the French BD world was filled with ancient civilisations (Asterix, Alix), cowboy westerns (Lucky Luke), intrepid reporters (Tintin) a boy and his dog (Boule & Bill), car racing detectives (Michel Vaillant), a Japanese air stewardess- detective (Yoko Tsuno) and those blue-bodied Schtroumpfs that everyone later knew as the Smurfs.

Brussels has finally acknowledged its rich history with two great museums devoted to this "Ninth Art". The Musee de la Bande Dessinee explores all the creators that had their start in Belgium, and the Herge Museum is mainly a celebration of the Tintin creator's life work. In the BD museum, you can learn about how comic strips were drawn and then coloured, and see some remarkable pieces from the 30s to the present day. There is a great hommage to Franquin, Peyo, Jije, and Morris, the so-called "Gang of Four" who are revered from the golden age. There are all sorts of strips and magazines on display, and I was charmed by all the classcis from my childhood. Because the Herge Museum is also opened, there was little Tintin in this first museum, but still, it had enough to keep me there almost four hours.

The Herge Museum was a delight because it represents everything I remember warmly from first being a competent reader. As a girl, I never wondered why Tintin's universe was all-male and certainly didn't take offense that Bianca Castafiore, the opera diva, was the only female in the vast cast of recurring characters. I just loved the stories and all the far-away places Tintin got to visit, and thought the stories were engaging and funny. I have to admit that as a Frenchie, I never realised the band The Thompson Twins was named after the English version of the bumbling detectives. In French, they are Dupont and Dupond, so named because it is the most widely occurring surname in France. An interesting note about that: if you look at their mustaches, you can figure out which is which because Dupond with a "d" has one that looks like the letter when you turn it sideways. I also found out that Herge was a cat lover, particularly the siamese kinds. He never ever owned a dog, but couldn't imagine a better sidekick. My only regret with the museum is that they glossed over Herge's problems after WW2, when he was investigated for treason for publishing Tintin during the occupation; even though I know a fair bit about why the charges were never substantiated, I think it was a mistake to miss that part of his history, as it goes a long way to explain local touches in his comics (ie: the street trams running late in The Secret of the Unicorn) and also his very subtle digs at the occupying forces. I think I felt the same disappointment when I saw that Morris had removed Lucky Luke's cigarette to appease the anti-smoking lobby.

All in all, a very interesting journey back in time. Because of a lack of French bookstores here in Toronto, I also picked up the first Tintin (in the land of the Soviets) and also managed to get a companion book to the Red Rackham book which explains all his little tricks and adjustments from the initial copy to the final edition. I have such a book for the Secrets of the Unicorn, which I found fascinating.

If you are a lover of the BD or its English equivalent, you will find these museums really worth it, should you ever be in Brussels.





The comic strip, Alix, where I learned all my ancient Rome knowledge along with Asterix. I took this picture because I completely remember the page and the Roman putting his thumb up to save the gladiator, despite the book having disappeared from my hands a long time ago.



Some of the more serious topics from an older audience strip from the 80s (anti-female society).



The classic Boule et Bill with a "poisson d'Avril" (April Fools) joke.






Lucky Luke has lost his cigarette in the museum display..



A very early Lucky Luke strip.




The cover of a 1947 year-end Tintin magazine, with all the usual suspects.



The cape of the Schtroumpfissime, from a Smurf book.