No spoilers ahead

Enki Bilal, most known for his Nikipol Trilogy (1980-1992), has more to offer than just his ambitious and instantly recognisable art style, which I think on its own fully justifies the separation of "American" from "European" comic books. The true strength of Bilal's works lies not in their meticulous execution, but the apt choice of themes, philosophical and political and their creative deconstruction by means of surreal art and dark humour, leaving the reader with insight not simply into politics but human nature. The best example of this would be his Monster (1998-2007) tetralogy, where the circumstances of the fall of Yugoslavia are explored in a surreal, futuristic Paris.

The political has not been a later addition to Bilal's work, but has remained in focus from the onset. In fact, the two earlier works I would like to discuss today are more overtly political than Monster. The Black Order Brigade (1979) and The Hunting Party (1983), co-authored with Pierre Christin, are far less surreal than Bilal's later works and this is perhaps why their message seems to be missed by readers: the terminology of political groupings remains convincing in both works, faces, while at times grotesque, remain human. The Hunting Party is set in the same year in which it was published, a time when people who knew Lenin personally could still have been alive. Crucially, at the time of writing the smell of decay was in the air, since the world was preoccupied with the festering carcass of the USSR and its satellite republics. Although The Hunting Party predicted the fall of communism, its claim to greatness lies elsewhere. The work captures the Zeitgeist of ever declining communism in its terminal throws, still potent and perhaps all the more dangerous since it is conscious of its decline. The Black Order Brigade was published merely four years after the death of gen. Franco and is also in dialogue with the then-present: while there was no potential of reigniting the Spanish Civil War in the later seventies, the ghost of the war loomed ominously over Spanish politics. Most crucially, events described by both novels remain believable. This is achieved by an excellent grounding of the plot in history, with the invented characters bearing uncanny resemblance to real life historical actors. This excellent prosopography is what unites the Brigade and the Party and is the main vehicle for delivering political commentary.

There are also more direct analogies between the works. Both deal with questions about history determining the present and future. Bilal considers the past to be inescapable and perhaps more crucial to the moment than the moment itself. I would even be tempted to place his perspective on the opposite side of the spectrum to Nick Land, who also views the future as determined, but decoupled from the past and the moment. In both novels Bilal shows us how side-lined political actors can once again move into the fore and once more make history, though this time (willingly) paying the ultimate price. Despite this superficially pessimistic view, Bilal escapes melancholy into the surreal. Moreover, we are shown old people at their best, pensive but still idealistic, consciously aged but retaining vitality, finally dying without fear or regret. I recommend reading both works in conjunction and reflecting on their subtle political message and the way in which it is delivered, both non-trivial.