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Incognito: Victimes Parfaites, Gregory Mardon
posted February 26, 2005
 



Incognito, the second book released in Dupuis' new Expresso series of is a much different book than the first (Salvatore), and much better as well. Like many people, I first encountered Gregory Mardon's work a couple of years ago through Cycloman, the black and white superhero comic that he did for Cornelius with writer Charles Berberian. Mardon's art seemed akin to Christophe Blain's, although less polished. It seemed rooted in clear line traditions, but was shaded with a hint of a post-underground influence at the same time. Cycloman was a fun book, but hardly a substantial one. It certainly didn't set the table for the type of work that Mardon would undertake as a solo artist.

Victimes Parfaites, the first volume of Incognito, is a stand-alone short story that is genuinely creepy. The story follows a non-descript young man named Jean-Pierre who is not altogether likeable. Jean-Pierre is frustrated that he passes through life moreorless unnoticed, often imagining himself to be invisible. After he breaks his leg in a drunken fit, he meets a physiotherapist named Berenice, whom he begins to stalk. Berenice has more than her fair share of problems, however. Her wheelchair-bound brother dominates her life, abusing her psychologically by threatening to kill himself, an act that would be on her conscience. He takes this abuse further by demanding that she bring home men so that he can watch her having sex with them, assuring her that if she does not comply, he will end his life. Caught between the "nice guy" stalker and an abusive brother, Berenice has few options, and the book plays out in a manner that highlights a dark and desolate take on human nature. There are no heroes in this book, and by the end I found myself disliking even the put-upon Berenice. It's a risky strategy, particularly for a book envisioned as part of an ongoing series, to have characters that are so despicable, but it is one that makes for an interesting first book.

As with Salvatore, the highlight of the work is definitely the art. Working in color, Mardon takes greater liberties than he does in other works. Significantly, he shifts his drawing style frequently, moving between an unadorned neo-clear line style and a heavily crosshatched style that would seem to be its polar opposite, often on the same page. The first heavily hatched page comes in the form of a dream, suggesting a connection between the visual plane and the psychological state of Jean-Pierre, although later these boundaries begin to blur. Further, late in the book Mardon shifts to a more expressive style, particularly when Jean-Pierre is stoned. Here he greatly exaggerates the figure of Berenice as she becomes a giantess in what must be the least erotic sex scene in the history of comics. In shifting registers like this, Mardon throws the reader off, creating a tremendous sense of unease over the entire book. In short, this is a tight little psychological thriller elevated to a higher level by the canny use of shifting drawing styles.

I have no idea where Mardon might take a second volume of this series. Indeed, I'm not even sure if Jean-Pierre is really intended to be a recurring character. Nonetheless, I'll be quick to snap up the next volume to see where he's thinking of taking this.

(Belated author's note: Shortly after I finished writing this, I picked up Mardon's other recent book from Dupuis, Corps a corps, which is from their Aire Libre series, and which was released about six months in advance of Incognito. It seems to follow the same character in Jean-Pierre, although there is no notice of this Victimes parfaites at all. Strange.)

Finally, a word or two on the cover. As you can see by the cover of my copy (scanned right), both this book and Salvatore bore stickers promising an exclusive ex-libris. As a marketing strategy, this is a strange one. The ex-libris tradition in French comics is related more to comic book stores than to publishers. Stores like Brussel and Superheros began several years ago to offer small silk-screen images in certain books that they sold, produced at the store's expense as a way to attract business. Superheros, for example, regularly features ex-libris images in books by significant alt-comics stars (when I was at the store in January, I ran into Paul Hornschemeier in the store, checking to see if the ex-libris for his book Adieu, Maman had arrived. Sadly, they had not), and the ex-libris then becomes an incentive to purchase a copy of a particular book from them rather than from their competition. Good deal.

Now, however, Dupuis has begun binding "ex-libris" images directly into their books. Unlike the ones from the stores, these are not signed nor limited edition. It's a very odd kind of simulation of the ex-libris, which had depended on its scarcity for its appeal. By attempting to make all of the books "special", none of them are. It's a very strange promotion -- not one that anyone could find objectionable, and, realistically, not one that most people will likely find enticing. It's just sort of odd.

Next time: Smart Monkey, a book with a real ex-libris.