Broken Frontier

I’ve never been much for anthropomorphism. Heck, the only reason I know I spelled it right (on the first try, I might add) is because the jagged, red line didn’t magically appear underneath when I typed it. Aside from the animated shenanigans of Bugs Bunny and the rest of the Looney Tunes stable of characters, I tend to shy away from animals that (…or is that who?) can talk.

Translated from the original French, Nicolas De Crécy’s little epic Salvatore: Transports of Love is the first volume in NBM Publishing’s English version of the title character’s obsessive quest for the heart of his one true love. While De Crécy’s tongue-in-cheek satire doesn’t feature any cross-dressing rabbits or emotionally addled ducks, he does construct a funny, mature, and insightful commentary on romance, art, and obsession.

What’s most remarkable about Salvatore is the amount of work De Crécy invests in convincing his audience that his characters are just as human as you or me. It’s time and effort well-spent. After a few pages, I found myself if not forgetting that the protagonist was a vertically-challenged German shepherd, then at least suspending my disbelief to such an extent I was able to firmly ground myself in De Crécy’s world.

A sprawling saga featuring a huge cast of supporting characters, Salvatore’s plot revolves around the titular character’s quest to claim the hand of his one and only true love. Although their time together was short, Salvatore believes wholeheartedly in their intertwined fates, and sets off to win her heart the only way he knows how: through the art of mechanics.

In Salvatore, De Crécy deftly realizes a number of creative goals. Unafraid to poke fun at what many of us perceive to be the stereotypical artist, De Crécy exaggerates qualities of self-imposed suffering, intense creative vision, and a frightening self-righteousness in Salvatore, to ridiculous levels. Even the title has a literal aspect that dovetails smoothly into the book’s central metaphor or theme. In Salvatore, the artist’s medium becomes the actual vehicle of his quest.

The funny thing about it is that if De Crécy chose to cast humans in the main roles, Salvatore wouldn’t work nearly so well. The story of a love-besotted, fondue-slurping hermit-mechanic, who builds the ultimate mode of transportation to drive, sail, and soar across the world to his beloved wouldn’t resonate the same way if the protagonist was Ben Stiller or Seth Rogen. The plot’s just too ludicrous. What better way to make the medicine go down than by couching it in an innocuous world of grotesquely cute talking animals?

Thematically brilliant and visually stunning, De Crécy elevates the genre of funny animal comics far past general public perception. Self-deprecating, razor-sharp, and at times truly laugh-out-loud funny, Salvatore: Transports of Love is one of my favorite books offered by NBM in the last few months – even if furry animals do all of the talking.