“Tales from the Age of the Cobra” might be one of the most beautiful books I’ve come across since I started writing for Multiversity. It is a stunning masterclass in the use of color, as well as succeeding by almost every other measure of sequential art. While the pulpy Sinbad-inspired narrative does feel a little out of its time, the overall product is more than worth it.
Written and Illustrated by Enrique FernandezCover by Enrique Fernandez
Translated by Edward Gauvin“Allow me to tickle your fancies with my tale, a tale woven from the threads of a hundred other tales…” With these words, the masked storyteller begins the epic saga of daring Irvi and beautiful Sian, separated by fate… and of Cobra, the soldier who becomes emperor by a path of blood, rage, and magic… and of Maluuk, the dwarf actor who conjures a revolution.
Tales from the Age of the Cobra is a tour-de-force by artist Enrique Fernandez, who paints a colorful and magical universe, populated by glamorous and fascinating creatures.
From the very first page “Tales from the Age of the Cobra” feels like a love letter to swashbuckling adventure stories and 90s era animation. These two influences have been modified and refined into something that surpasses its roots and succeeds in some places where its inspirations failed. It is far from a perfect outing, plagued by some content that could rightly be criticized for being either misogynist, racist or both. But even these missteps feel like they are firmly rooted in the world of the work, and included not out of a sense of “it has to be done this way,” but rather as material that needs to be addressed and confronted by a more modern audience. More on this later.
Author-Artist Enrique Fernandez is probably best known for his works on the animated films El Cid: The Legend and Noctura; both award winning films in his native Spain. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that “Tales from the Age of the Cobra” has a lot of the feel of a film storyboard. Almost every frame oozes with stylized motion and there is a strong sense of a series of placed cameras that provide our eye into the sequence of events. At the same time, Fernandez also embraces the traditions of comic book art, varying panel sizes to play with time and suspense.
His art style is decidedly cartoony, but not to the detriment of the story. Everyone has big, expressive eyes and even larger mouths. The effect could easily be more of a help than a hindrance, but every character is so lovingly detailed and expressive that the exaggerated features just become part of the world of the story.
And “Tales from the Age of the Cobra” is a story. The narrative device used is that of a masked performer, retelling a tale from the history of the city he is performing in. It is a long winding tale of star-crossed lovers, jealous men (and not-so-jealous husbands) and tyrants in need of overthrowing. In the same vein as “Arabian Nights,” each twist of the story leads to new tales, but the central thread is that of Irvi, a young man with superior gymnastic ability, who is driven to great depths and great heights in the name of love.
This is where I have to raise the issue of socially questionable content. Fernandez directly invokes many of the tropes common to swashbuckling adventures, such as the damsel in distress and the selling of daughter into effective prostitution. He also plays with outright female nudity, both as symbolic of disempowerment and, later on liberation. These elements do come off as somewhat problematic, and “Age of the Cobra” is absolutely not a book for young children to read unsupervised. But Fernandez also confronts these elements, empowering the female lead, Sian with considerable martial skill and self-actualization, and obliterating the ‘House of Princesses,’ addressing it as “That reprehensible piece of our history.” Regardless of the context, these tropes are problematic, but there might be some value in acknowledging their presence in a work that draws so much on the past where these ideas were created.
Continued belowFinally, I want to talk about Fernandez’s use of color. As appropriate for a story being told as a piece of theater, the colors throughout the book show off a heightened, more vibrant reality. Pages swing from dynamic brights to shadowy darks quite quickly. Fernandez’s use of shadow can be every bit as telling of a frame’s mood as his highly expressive faces are. But the real stand out element on display is his use of continuity of hue. You notice almost immediately that every page has a color scheme and most of the panels on that page will share one or two principle hues. But on top of that, the last panel on any given page will usually preview the dominant colors of the next.
The effect creates a seamless flow to events, similar to the way that a lighting change on a stage can prepare the audience for the mood of the next scene. Places where this pattern doesn’t hold are deliberately jarring, containing important plot twists or larger breaks in the action. This singular design choice does the lion’s share of the work keeping the reader engaged and turning pages. In the frantic final pages, when all of the plot lines start to converge, this same technique helps keep the pieces moving forward together as one.
I am completely willing to admit that the art, story or style of “Tales from the Age of the Cobra” might not be every reader’s favorite, but I find it hard to deny the level of craft on display here. If taken only for the quality of its art, the book is stunning and bold. With the narrative included, I still think there is more to recommend it than to criticize it.
