Tintin And Alph-Art – Hergé, 1986/2007 ★½

Dining on Table Scraps

A chance to rifle through the waste basket of a favorite artist sure sounds fun; is it? The publication of a so-called “24^th volume” in the legendary Tintin comic-book series gave fans a chance to find out.

The year was 1986. The man behind Tintin, the great Hergé, had been dead three years. But he left behind some sketches and long sections of dialogue for a new Tintin book. By most surviving indicators, it would have been a very different one from what fans were used to.

Having battled pirates, smugglers, and generals, Tintin would face the challenge of the “Alph-Art.” Would it prove his final undoing?

Spoiler alert: I have no idea, and after reading it, neither will you. Hergé himself apparently didn’t know either; one note he wrote to himself (included in later editions of Tintin And Alph-Art) lists a number of different possibilities regarding a final outcome.

Tintin awakens Captain Haddock from a nightmare in an opening panel from Tintin And Alph-Art. Think this looks rough? It gets much worse. Image from http://tranber75.free.fr/Tintin/lalphart/pagelalphart.html.

It is like picking through someone’s wastebasket, or at best a folder of forgotten notes. Not revelatory, not exciting, certainly not coherent, but there is some sense of possible escape –not for Tintin so much as Hergé, who seems more jazzed here than he had in maybe 20 years.

After dashing off the tired and jaded plots of his prior volumes, 1968’s Flight 714 and 1976’s Tintin And The Picaros, Hergé centered this story around a subject he actually cared about: modern, abstract art of the 20^th century. Think Picasso, Modigliani, Lichtenstein, and Ramó Nash.

Ramó who? As Captain Haddock explains it, Ramó Nash is “the high priest of Alph-Art,” whose sculptures appeal to the rich and curious, like Captain Haddock at the start of the book.

THOMSON: Goodness gracious! Where did that come from? It looks like an H. What is it for?

HADDOCK: It is an H. [He is exasperated.] It isn’t for anything!!! It’s Alph-Art, that’s all. And it isn’t for anything!

Haddock brings home his art to the confusion of Tintin, Snowy, and a cat who lives in Marlinspike Hall and shows up in a few adventures (including the cover of The Castafiore Emerald.) Image from http://en.tintin.com/albums/show/id/48/page/0/0/tintin-and-alph-art.

Hergé’s genuine love for modern art (he was an avid collector) doesn’t stop him using it as the butt of much humor in the narrative framing that survives here. I was concerned before picking it up that this approach would make Tintin And Alph-Art pretentious, esoteric, and a poor fit for the simple ligne claire design aesthetic Hergé had mastered in his Tintin adventures over five decades.

I may have been wrong there. Hergé approaches the modern art idea playfully, and not too deeply. Haddock becomes obsessed with the H he bought, defensive about its merits even if he clearly doesn’t get the underlying concept (no one does, which seems the amusing point.) The more he is questioned, the more tongue-tied and frustrated he gets, as if he himself can’t believe his buying this crazy thing simply to avoid a chance encounter with his amiable foil, Bianca Castafiore.

As Haddock walks around holding his H like a character on “Sesame Street,” the burden of solving the secret of Alph-Art falls to Tintin. Later on, Tintin finds himself in the hands of art forgers, the leader of which seems to have some old business with Tintin and plans a sticky end for the intrepid journalist:

ENDADDINE: Well, my friend, we’re going to pour liquid polyester over you; you’ll become an expansion [sic] signed by César and then authenticated by a well-known expert. Then it will be sold, perhaps to a museum, or perhaps to a rich collector…You should be glad, your corpse will be displayed in a museum. And no one will ever suspect that the work, which could be entitled “Reporter,” constitutes the last resting place of young Tintin.

The last panel of Alph-Art shows Tintin being led away, apparently to his doom (though no doubt some escape was planned, as we are only up to page 40 here.) Image from https://nwhyte.livejournal.com/1720312.html

César, by the way, was a real-life French sculptor whose signature style “compressionism” is referenced here as being the process Tintin will undergo before being immortalized and murdered in one fell swoop. It’s a darkly amusing idea to go out on, exactly what happens here as the story of Tintin And Alph-Art ends with Tintin being marched off at gunpoint.

What did Hergé plan for Tintin And Alph-Art? Its comic and fantasy elements feel of a piece with what you expect from classic Tintin. Yet as Sideshow Bob once observed, they don’t give Nobels for attempted chemistry, and that’s what this is, a set of ingredients still waiting to be put together.

Work on Tintin And Alph-Art began in 1978, two years after Tintin And The Picaros was published. Evidence suggests Hergé was farther along on scripting than on the artwork; dialogue for Alph-Art runs just over 40 pages, but the drawings break down to rudimentary sketches just three pages in.

Tintin fan and “Totally Tintin” podcast co-host David Dedrick says work on Alph-Art was suspended because of Hergé’s participation in Tintin 50^th anniversary celebrations through 1979, which in turn left him worn out in 1980. By then Hergé was in his 70s and sick from blood cancer; still he had bursts of energy now and then.

Endaddine as he appears in a sketch for Alph-Art, and real-life model Fernand Legros, renowned art dealer and forger. There is conflicting evidence Endaddine would have been revealed as Tintin arch-villain Roberto Rastapopoulos by story's end. Image from http://tintim.chez.com/actualite/actualite_2.htm.

Evidence shows work continued through to the end of Hergé’s life. One plot element involves a fake holy man named Endaddine whom Tintin links with the Alph-Art mystery. The character was based on a guru named Rajneesh whom Hergé read about in a December 1982 issue of Paris Match. Hergé would die just three months later.

What survives from Alph-Art suggests periods of engagement, but also a good deal of plate-spinning. Familiar characters pop in and out of the narrative without explanation, as Hergé employs familiar elements with no clear direction or focus.

Tintin sets himself up for an ambush, which he magically evades. A short time later, he does it again:

TINTIN: These pollarded willows sometimes come in handy, especially when they’re hollow…

HADDOCK: Someone shot at you?

TINTIN: Yes, it’s a habit…

How might Alph-Art have looked if finished? Canadian artist Yves Rodier made this polished-up version of the opening frames in the 1990s, one of many re-creations artists have attempted since Hergé's death. Image from https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Tintin_and_Alph-Art. 

Even for a Tintin adventure, our hero’s attitude is remarkably nonchalant. His main mode of investigation is encouraging others to  attack him and trust in luck to bail him out.

How would Tintin have escaped his encounter with Endaddine? Hergé’s notes suggest a possible role there for Tintin’s dog Snowy, his companion from the very first Tintin book, Tintin In The Land Of The Soviets, and still glimpsed tagging along here. Perhaps Haddock could have been employed, too; the Captain is given little to do in the story that survives.

The narrative offers bits of promise, but the art proves a major, consistent letdown. After three pages of recognizably engaging and at times humorous Hergé draftsmanship, it quickly devolves into blobby stick figures and empty backgrounds. Skimming through the pages, one senses an almost cinematic flow, of shifting perspectives and sudden action. But to what end?

We will never know. I suspect we never would have, even if Hergé had been blessed with a longer, healthier life. Alph-Art seems stuck in neutral, the sort of thing an artist plays at completing while waiting for another big idea to draw their focus. As a concept, it intrigues; as a full-blown Tintin adventure, it disappoints.

I am left to wonder what a 12-year-old would feel if some well-meaning aunt had passed up gifting them The Black Island for this?