I had some more snide movie reviews all ready to go, but the passing of Jean 'Moebius' Giraud means they'll have to wait until later. If I had a black armband, I'd be wearing it right now. Mr. Giraud's passing was a truly unhappy moment for me.
In the summer of 1977, I was with my dad while he was working as a surveyor. We were in the foothills of southern Alberta, and I would wait in the truck while he was out doing his thing. Well, nosing around in the glove box, I discovered a rolled-up copy of a magazine I had never seen before. It was the American version of the French comic magazine,'Metal Hurlant'. Heavy Metal.. It was my first introduction into the world of 'adult' comics.
The one story that stuck with me, was of course, Moebius' and Dan O'Bannon's 'The Long Tomorrow'. I can honestly say that was the pivotal moment in my life that put me, for better or worse, on the current path of the primacy of art in my life. (My own 'style', such as it is, owes a huge debt to Mr. Giraud, as well as Robert Crumb.)
There was nothing, it seems, that Moebius can't draw. From pulp Westerns to fantastic flights of fancy, he renders everything in a clear, distinct line so precise, yet so effortless. You can feel the grubbiness of the world in his 'Blueberry' westerns, or in his classic anti-racism story, 'White Nightmare'. Yet even his most fantastic creations, like the world of 'The Incal' or 'The Airtight Garage' or 'The Long Tomorrow' have a connection to reality that you just don't see in any other work. When you read-I should say, drink in- a work by Moebius, you're transported to worlds unlike any that you've ever seen or will ever see again.
Thanks for everything, Mr. Giraud. I don't want to refer to him in the past tense, because really, Moebius isn't dead, is he?
(You can find a more eloquent and in-depth tribute to Moebius here: on the Comic Journal's website by Kim Thompson.)
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