We venture outwards to the stars trying to find alien life, but beneath the surface of the oceans our very planet is still teeming with life unknown and so very strange that might give pause even to H.R. Giger. But this life is as hostile as it is beautiful and, according to this graphic novel, in this it’s a reflection of man’s soul.
Written, illustrated and Colored by BrunoCover by Burno
Translated by Jeremy Melloul
English Lettering by Frank CvetkovicJules Verne’s classic tale is reimagined in this graphic adaptation, which offers a subtle new interpretation of one of literature’s most famous captains. In this re-telling of the classic 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, NEMO offers an uncompromising look at life under the sea, where men are free of society and beasts roam the deep. Bruno delivers a nuanced adaptation of this literary masterpiece.
I’ve never read “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” but I feel I know it almost as well as those who have. Between the numerous adaptations (in stage, screen, TV and comics forms) and endless homages (after all “Nemo” is also the name of a series of graphic novels by Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neil, also published by IDW) this story is foundational in pop culture canon. You don’t need to read the book to know of the mysterious submarine that sinks ships like a monster, its captain who had declared war on the surface, or of the absent minded professor Aronnax, his attendant Conseil or the tough whaler Ned Land – these have all been ingrained to you.
Bruno’s adaptation is touted as offering “subtle new interpretation “, and indeed up until the very end (which I would not dream of even hinting towards) it appears to be a rather direct adaptation. Bruno’s cartoonish art style, somewhere between Mike Mignola and a more conventional bandes dessinées, and use of unnatural lightning makes it difficult to understand whether his Nemo is neat to be an Indian prince like the one in the novel turned out to be (the character’s race in hinted at throughout the novel but has only been revealed in less popular novel “The Mysterious Island”, Nemo has a long history of being whitewashed in adaptations); otherwise the story seems rather straightforward up until the end.
Still, even in a straightforward adaptation there’s an interest in what the adaptor chooses to stress out and what to leave on the sidelines. In Bruno’s version of the story “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” is a story about men being men in the most horrible of ways – they are hostile (Nemo), distant (Aronnax) and lack patience (Ned Land). Nemo here is not a noble and complex anti-hero but a violent man, hungry for blood; Aronnax is so seduced by the mysteries of the deep he doesn’t notice how sad his fellow captives are; Ned is restless and unable to appreciate the wonders around him. The only character who seems to be emotionally balanced is Conseil – he’s the only one who feels genuine sadness for the death of others, the only one trying to communicate and emphasize.
The technology is a mirror of the people here, the Nautilus has several encounters with enemy vessels hunting it down and every time they seem to be bigger and better armed. Every struggle is bloody and violent and utterly unnecessary. When the professor asks why fight when the they can simply submerge beyond the reach of the regular ships Nemo is filled with anger: “I am not the one who should be running away! They are in my domain[…] I am the master of the seas and I intend to prove it…” It’s machismo and bravado – a chest thumping display of dominance. at a certain point Nemo lets the captives roam free on an island knowing they will try to escape – which makes them a target for the local population, a population that Nemo than slaughters with ease. Human have built these magnificent machines but all they seem to do with them is kill; it’s easier to do harm than to simply walk away. Even the sea life, which Nemo supposedly celebrates, ends up as guts and gore – a majestic looking giant squid dies when Nemo becomes the one to trespass in his domain.
Continued belowThe sea life, both the animals and the act of living under the surface, are a good enough reason to buy this book: Bruno dedicate one silent page after another to describe the wonders of the life below: terrifying crustaceans, whales, icebergs, sunken cities… all drawn in heavily essentialist manner. Bruno has the power to describe, with scent few lines and heavy use of shadows, the suggestion of full life; to express mood and consequences without by hint and suggestion.
At a certain point a character is threatened with a gun, the next page is just a series of still shots of icebergs – all jagged lines and harsh surfaces. The world is hard and we are making it harder. More than it a well-drawn book, and it certainly is it’s a well-cut one: Bruno knows how to pick and choose the next image in sequence. In that he is also similar to Mike Mignola – finding the balance between a shot the provides the reader excitement, a sense of an action taking place, but leaves just enough suggestion in the white space between for new connections to be had.
I wouldn’t want to suggest the book is perfect. The “subtle new interpretation” can be so subtle as to confuse a reader not familiar enough with the source material (rendering the subversion moot); likewise, there are times when the abstraction of the story becomes too much, when suggestion becomes but the merest hint of a plot that may never become fulfilled (there’s something to do with clones which is mentioned offhand and then immediately forgotten about). The scene with the cannibalistic natives that I’ve mentioned earlier would seem insensitive in any modern adaptation but the spear-wielding blowgun-using ‘primitives’ are straight out Indiana Jones (and not in a good way).
Still, there’s lots of value in “Nemo,” a proof that no matter how old the story there can always be a new way to tell it.
