November 2025 – Who's Out There?

« The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown. » — René Magritte

Last month, we flew off to explore the wonders of Belgium, most specifically Flanders. All other attractions aside, I thought I’d share with you some of the marvels of the country’s comics culture. Hop on!

At Ostende’s cozy Le Touquet seaside restaurant, we were shown the shortest path to the loo by no less a personage than the legendary Cowboy Henk, touting local drink Blonde Kuif.

This group scene from René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo‘s Astérix was appropriately located in a schoolyard, with kids eagerly playing ball just a few metres away.

In a different range, this mural suitably pays homage to French ‘ligne claire‘ master Yves Chaland (1957-1990).

It was nice to see the frescoes maintained. This one, located in Antwerp, celebrates Flemish cartoonist Jeff Nys‘ Jommeke: « It seems fitting that this wall by artist Jef Nys, the greatest Flemish cartoonist for children, is in an area surrounded by schools. His most popular comic was Jommeke, a story about a young boy, with a pet parrot named Flip, who goes on some crazy adventures along with his best friend Filiberke. Nys started Jommeke in 1955 and created close to 300 comic albums. They have sold over 51 million albums alone in Belgium, making Jommeke the second best-selling comic series in the country. » [ source ]

I’ve no idea who these characters might be, but I raise my glass (of Belgian beer, naturally) to the vibrant creativity of the nation’s graffiti practitioners.

Another lovely one saluting one of Belgium’s bédé superstars, Maurice de Bevere, alias ‘Morris’ (1923-2001).

We found that Brussel’s streets were frequently adorned with striking mosaic markers, such as this one, featuring André Franquin‘s Marsupilami. I forget what thoroughfare this was, I’m afraid.

This one captures Philippe Dupuy and Charles Berberian‘s Monsieur Jean and his presumed and entirely laudable and justified appreciation of Belgian beer, the world’s finest — you can keep your IPAs, thank you.

A mural devoted to Michel Greg and Daniel ‘Dany‘ Henrotin’s Olivier Rameau, fittingly painted on the side of a Fireworks store at 9, rue du chêne, Brussels. Top to bottom: Ebouriffon, Olivier Rameau, Colombe Tiredaile, the 3 Ziroboudons, Alphonse Pertinent.

Despite having no Belgian roots that I can figure, Hugo Pratt‘s Corto Maltese clearly is beloved in these parts. He landed no fewer than *four* murals, all neatly in a row. Here are my two favourites.

A most unusual — and striking — composition.

And now we come to my Holy Grail, Brussel’s Gil Jourdan mural… there are two more in Maurice Tillieux‘s hometown of Auderghem (here’s one, and the other, and yet another in the bédé-themed Janson metro station in Charleroi). The author appears for size comparison.

Local graffiti artists come to the rescue: it seems inconceivable — to me, anyhow — that there isn’t a mural devoted to Willy ‘Will’ Maltaite‘s characters. There used to be a lovely « Isabelle » fresco in Brussels, but, citing damage, it was painted over in 2017. However, here’s an unofficial, and brilliant one featuring Tif et Tondu… and their archnemesis, Monsieur Choc. Take a bow!

-RG

« May the man who has his finger on the button have a lovely day today / Hope nothing hangs him up or ticks him off or bums him out in any way / Lord, help him keep his cool cause he could pull the final curtain on my play / May the man who has his finger on the button have a lovely day today. » — Larry Wilkerson (as warbled by Bobby Bare)

The idea for this post came to me a couple of days ago, and this afternoon, while cobbling together the visual components, it dawned on me that today’s Memorial Day (Remembrance Day for Canadians, and ‘Victory Day‘ for those afflicted with brain worms and/or syphillis), and therefore quite à propos.

DC’s The Day After Doomsday series first turned up — of all places — in the pages of The Witching Hour, a page and a half bit of filler fluff by Len Wein and Jack Sparling. It must have struck a chord, if not with readers, then with its creators, for the feature stubbornly kept a-rising from its post-apocalyptic grave.

In spite of its episodic and arguably slight nature, TDBD enjoyed surprising longevity. It truly found its home in the Joe Orlando-edited Weird War Tales (1971-1983, DC’s gateway title for war fans into ‘horror’ and vice versa), where most of its dispatches saw print. You never know what’s going to catch on with the unwashed masses.