The Cities of the Fantastic series of graphic novels by François Schuiten and Benoît Peeters.

The Cities of the Fantastic (or Obscure Cities, as they are unofficially called, based on their original French name, Les Cités Obscures) graphic novels are the works of two Belgians, artists François Schuiten and writer Benoît Peeters. The series is set on a continent vaguely reminiscent of Europe, with cities called Brüsel, Genova, Pahry etc. The world is also often called "counter-Earth", and in several novels, passages between our world and "counter-Earth" are shown to exist.

The novels almost always follow explorers, cartographers or urbanists as they explore the mysteries of cities or buildings, only to be confounded by them. Illusions within illusions, manipulations of the individual for the "greater good" of a city or a regime, the effects of rapid urban and technological change on individuals, all these are recurring themes of the novels.

Schuiten being a trained architect, it is not surprising that architecture, and in particular urban architecture, plays a starring role in the books. The Great Walls of Samaris showcases a city made of shifting scenery, in Fever in Urbicand, a giant cube throws the city of Urbicand (and the life of an urbanist) into chaos. In The Tower, a man explores a city set within one seemingly endless tower. In Brüsel, the authors take up the plight of their real-life hometown, Brussels, and the destruction of its history by all-too-rampant modernisation. The Road to Amiliafeatures a zeppelin ride through much of the continent of the Oscure Cities, showcasing the extravagant architecture of a good many of them.

The stories are always highly complex, and not all their mysteries are resolved in the end. The tone is usually rather bleak, happy endings are rare. The world, and the themes, are in the tradition of Jules Verne and other 19th century science fiction novelists (if the books fit a style at all, it would be steampunk). The books' visual style uses many elements of Art Nouveau, while people's clothing ranges from the 19th century to the 1920s (although time doesn't stand still in counter-Earth: in The Invisible Frontier, which tells the story of a nascent fascist empire swallowing its neighbours, clothing and hair styles progresses to those of the 1930s/1940s).

The style of the illustrations varies: most books are told in sumptuous colours, but others use black and white drawings reminiscent of period etchings; one book, L'enfant penchée, utilises both photographs and drawings. The world is presented in amazing detail: every panel seems to ooze with incredible inventions that make the world come alive, and render the fantastic setting utterly believable. It is no wonder that the novels have spawned a cult movement that debates and dissects every invention and every theory voiced in the books.

The journey into the mysterious Cities of the Fantastic began in 1982 with the publication of The Great Wall of Samaris; the latest outing is the two part La Théorie du grain de sable, published in French in 2008 (and not yet published in English). So far, there are twelve official comics, and a series of spin-offs, such as tourist guides, newspapers and audio plays. Casterman, the French editor, has announced for 2009 a new edition of the outstanding The Archivist, a book consisting entirely of annotated one page spreads depicting various cities. A complete list of publications (in English) can be found under Les Cités Obscures on wikipedia.

I can highly recommend these graphic novels to anyone interested in steampunk, in intelligent comics and in discovering utterly believable "strange new worlds" while being thoroughly entertained.

Rating: 5 of 5.

Official website: Urbicande.be (in French).

Conan the Cimmerian: Black Colossus, by Truman, Giorello and Villarrubia.

When Dark Horse revived the Conan comics franchise a few years ago, they did so to great critical and public acclaim. Having found an artistic team that delivered a faithful yet modern approach to Robert E. Howard's classic tales, they set out to charter, in chronological order, the life and times of the Cimmerian barbarian. Several years down the line, the title was in disarray: both writer Kurt Busiek and colorist Dave Stewart (whose work had done much to create a unique design for Conan), left the title; while Cary Nord's artwork became more and more erratic, vague and cartoony. Dark Horse called on a series of guest writers and artists to fill the gap, and in the end the title felt, in the words of its editor, more like an anthology than an ongoing series. Finally, Dark Horse re-assembled a new team with writer Timothy Truman, artist Tomás Giorello and color artist José Villarrubia and scrapped the old title, gave itself a short break and re-launched the series under the new name Conan the Cimmerian.

Surprisingly, Dark Horse began the new title with a story arc set in Cimmeria which was not directly taken from an REH story, and which featured flashbacks to the adventures of Conan’s grandfather, drawn by guest artist Richard Corben. This was in itself not a bad idea, but it came too early and slowed down the élan of the new series before it properly began. It was not until issue 8 that Conan the Cimmerian finally took off, with the debut of the story arc Black Colossus, based on Howard's short story of the same name. Thus, with the conclusion of the six part story arc in last month’s issue number 13, I feel it is time to review the new title.

The story begins with Conan having moved on from being a thief to embarking on a mercenary career. As the story progresses, Conan moves from becoming a soldier to a captain to the commander of the kingdom of Khoraja's armies, as he marches the troops to thwart the plot of an evil, long-dead sorcerer returned to life, who has come to claim world dominion in the name of his god Seth. The plot involves other typical Conan ingredients such as demons and of course a damsel in distress who needs rescuing and who knows how to show her gratitude to our barbarian – and who happens to be the ruler of a country, thus maybe setting Conan on the path that would lead him eventually to the throne of Aquilonia. The story arc finds its climax in a wonderfully rendered battle between the forces of the undead sorcerer Natohk and Khoraja's amry, before Conan has to venture into the lair of the sorcerer to rescue said damsel in a final show-down between the main protagonists.

Tomás Giorello and colorist José Villarrubia have found a unique visual language, somewhat reminiscent of the art of the title’s first incarnation but yet different, with a slightly unfinished looking, water-colourish feel using muted colours and low on the inks. The artists do a great job of evoking the world of Conan, providing richly detailed, exotic backgrounds and finely differentiated depictions of the various ethnic groups that make up Hyboria. It is here that the title outshines its predecessor: in making Howard’s richly detailed world come truly alive.

Having read the issues back to back, I get the impression that the artistic team is finding its voice as the plot progresses, and with the depiction of the combats in the last two issues, the art truly shines, especially in the dynamic portrayal of the fighting and the greatly detailed epic mass combat scenes reminiscent of old Hollywood movies with their thousands of extras (Cleopatra comes to mind).

The writing, too, seems to improve over the course of the five issues. In the first couple of issues, writer Timothy Truman feels like he has to emulate Howard’s insufferable pseudo-historic, and at times plain silly, dialogue. They are the exception, and become rarer over time, but they really need not be there at all. The plotting is slow over the first couple of issues, which may be in keeping with Howard’s writing, but picks up as soon as Conan marches his troops to face the enemy.

The story’s ending is pure Howard (damsel in distress rescued, a shag for our hero while the rest of the world moves on), but it’s a bit of an anti-climax after the breathtaking telling of the battle. For better or for worse, there are other takes on Howardian clichés: women in various states of undress and insinuations of lesbian relationships between the women in Princess Yasmela’s court. A Conan book probably wouldn’t be complete without these clichés, the question is, whether it’s the better for them. But I guess nobody who reads Howard expects a politically correct story - although it should be pointed out that thankfully Dark Horse leaves out Howard’s stark stereotypical, if not to say racist characterisations of the various non-white races making up Hyboria.

Thus, in summary, it can be said that Black Colossus is a good, exciting and satisfying read, finally establishing Conan the Cimmerian as a title in its own right, and leaving one eager for the next chapters in the life of Conan the Barbarian.

Rating: 4 out of 5.