Neil Gaiman usa parole oneste per descrivere il suo rapporto con l’opera di Jean Giraud (quella di Moebius, visionaria, su Métal Hurlant).
Non del tutto elogiative in modo acritico, senz’altro di enorme ammirazione, ma dimensionate al suo modo di pensare. Misurate.
Nel suo blog fa anche delle riflessioni, come sempre molto personali, sulla scomaprsa del collega (brutta parola, ma non saprei quale altra impiegare).
I couldn’t actually figure out what the Moebius stories were about, but I figured that was because my French wasn’t up to it. (I could get the gist of the Richard Corben Den story, and loved that too, and not just because of the nakedness, but the Moebius stories were obviously so much deeper.)
I read the magazine over and over and envied the French because they had everything I dreamed of in comics – beautifully drawn, visionary and literate comics, for adults. I just wished my French was better, so I could understand the stories (which I knew would be amazing).
I wanted to make comics like that when I grew up.
I finally read the Moebius stories in that Metal Hurlant when I was in my 20s, in translation, and discovered that they weren’t actually brilliant stories. More like stream-of-consciousness art meets Ionesco absurdism. The literary depth and brilliance of the stories had all been in my head. Didn’t matter. The damage had long since been done.
Questo, sotto, il disegno di Moebius sulla copertina del primo Métal visto da Neil.