107 - Hergé

Hergé HERGÉ TINTIN Original cover of the French Tintin magazine, No. 161, October 10, 1978. The title is a reproduction affixed to the original. Signed. India ink on paper 36 × 48.2 cm (14.17 × 18.98 in.) In 1978, Hergé turned his back on *Tintin* magazine. Disagreeing with the weekly’s editorial direction, he hardly ever submitted any more covers to it. Furthermore, he was in no hurry to produce a sequel to the latest album published, *Tintin and the Picaros*, which had concluded in the magazine two years earlier. This *Tintin* magazine without Tintin was therefore in danger of continuing indefinitely when he learned that SARL Cinq Pouces was taking over the reins of the magazine’s French edition. The prospective editor-in-chief, Christian Goux, was brimming with ideas to make up for this absence. Hergé therefore felt inclined to accept his proposals, starting with a reprint of *The Blue Lotus* in its original version, but with new colors. Hergé knows this: *The Blue Lotus* is considered his masterpiece. He himself looks fondly upon this story, which, as early as 1934, had allowed Tintin to become more human, to set aside his prejudices, and to open himself up “to others.” Giving French readers the opportunity to immerse themselves in a story that most of them have never read in this form—and offering it to them in color—should satisfy those feeling nostalgic and silence the impatient ones. The release of this edition is scheduled for October 6, and Hergé wishes to mark the occasion with a brand-new cover. Jean-Clément Bismuth, the editor-in-chief, realized that the artist was not averse to “revisiting”—forty years later—the episode that had proved so decisive in his career. From the very first sketch, drawn in India ink, Hergé imbued the inaugural illustration with an iconic quality. In the center, he placed the title vertically, in Chinese characters. On the left, he placed the “good guys,” the representatives of “yin,” and on the right, the “bad guys,” the representatives of “yang.” In a second pencil sketch, he refines the shapes of these characters. On one side are Tintin and Snowy, the young Tchang, the venerable Wang Jen-Ghié, his wife, and their son Wang Didi. On the other side are the hideous Mitsuhirato, his compatriot Yamato, and the Japanese officer of the occupying forces; the odious Gibbons and Dawson; and finally, the despicable Rastapopoulos. On one side, hell; on the other, paradise. The two groups stare each other down. Just as he’s about to finalize the layout, Hergé realizes that the police officers Dupond and Dupont are missing from the credits. To make room for them, he has to eliminate someone on the right: out goes Yamato. But he’ll have to decide to place one of the two detectives on the side of the good guys and the other on the side of the villains… After all, in the previous episode, the two companions had been ambiguous toward Tintin, and they continue this behavior in *The Blue Lotus*, switching in the blink of an eye from friends to enemies—and vice versa. On the other hand, Hergé’s friendship toward Jean-Clément Bismuth is clear: two weeks after *The Blue Lotus* began serialization in *Tintin*, he gave him this drawing, accompanied by a warm dedication. Philippe Goddin Brussels, January 3, 2015