more Tintin thoughts
I've skimmed through The Red Sea Sharks, Tintin in Tibet, and The Castafiore Emerald in a great hurry, wanting to see how the Tintin-Haddock relationship developed. (And now I'll re-read them properly--I'm partway through rereading Coke en Stock aka the Red Sea Sharks.)
Well, by Coke en Stock they seem to be pretty much married. They even have date nights at the cinema together. (And there's an interesting bit of illustration, when they've come out of the cinema and are talking about the film, where what we see in the frame are the two of them and two male/female, presumably married, couples: three pairs.) My absolute favorite bit, though, and possibly my favorite bit of all the Tintin I've read so far, is after the airplane crash, when Haddock is cradling his beloved bottle of whiskey and thinking about whether there's enough to walk fifty kilometers on. Then the airplane blows up, and he literally shields the bottle with his body . . . and then he realizes that Tintin was near the plane, and he drops the bottle to run to him. Literally drops it; it breaks. (And on the subject of Haddock and Tintin and alcohol, when he gets to Tintin he says, "Not broken, er, not hurt, are you?" He still makes the slightly unnerving mental connection between Tintin and booze, but in a pinch there's absolutely no doubt that Tintin is what truly matters to him.)
Tintin in Tibet is . . . I'm looking forward to re-reading this, because even on a quick late-night skim it was just so emotionally rich and moving. I want to say Tintin is almost a different person, but that's not quite right and makes the changes in him sound like flawed writing. Tintin's recognizably himself (that absolute stubborn determination is just a more extreme form of his usual perseverance) but this is Tintin at the breaking point, guilt-ridden, grieving, and ever so fragile. He cries, for heaven's sake. The most self-contained, stoic boy in the world cries. Haddock, meanwhile, is made of about 98% pure awesome; he keeps trying to talk sense into Tintin, but when that fails, and tantrums and ultimatums fail, in the end he follows after Tintin to try and keep him safe.
[A thought: Tintin has not actually been the main character of these comics since Land of Black Gold. Starting with the moon books, it's Haddock who's actually the focus character even though Tintin is still, well, the hero. Even during Tintin in Tibet, where Tintin gets more emotions than he usually does, I think the story's heart is still Haddock's worry and his loyalty.]
As I read The Castafiore Emerald I kept imagining an ad for it that would read: Tintin and Captain Haddock face their most dangerous foe yet--women!
Well, to be fair it's only one woman, and she's more a comedy diva than a female stereotype per se. Nevertheless, this story is about as strong a repudiation of heterosexual romance for these characters as possible. My wicked old slashy heart can't help loving Haddock's absolute horror at the marriage rumors, the way he clings to Tintin to protect him, and the fact that Tintin is the only other person who never for a minute believes Haddock might be marrying Bianca Castafiore.
It's interesting, too, that there's no actual crime in this one, and no real adventure. It's pure domestic comedy, in this case about preserving Moulinsart as a little all-male shelter from the rest of the world (divas, television crews, combing one's hair). Haddock in certain ways is the embodiment of domesticity, but it's domesticity of a distinctly unconventional kind.
Oh, and to return to the subject of Tintin and Haddock being married, at some point (I think I first noticed it in The Calculus Affair) they start saying "we" a lot. They introduce Calculus as "our friend"; they talk about "our windows" having been broken, etc. *loves*
Crossposted at Dreamwidth (
comments); you can comment here or there.
Well, by Coke en Stock they seem to be pretty much married. They even have date nights at the cinema together. (And there's an interesting bit of illustration, when they've come out of the cinema and are talking about the film, where what we see in the frame are the two of them and two male/female, presumably married, couples: three pairs.) My absolute favorite bit, though, and possibly my favorite bit of all the Tintin I've read so far, is after the airplane crash, when Haddock is cradling his beloved bottle of whiskey and thinking about whether there's enough to walk fifty kilometers on. Then the airplane blows up, and he literally shields the bottle with his body . . . and then he realizes that Tintin was near the plane, and he drops the bottle to run to him. Literally drops it; it breaks. (And on the subject of Haddock and Tintin and alcohol, when he gets to Tintin he says, "Not broken, er, not hurt, are you?" He still makes the slightly unnerving mental connection between Tintin and booze, but in a pinch there's absolutely no doubt that Tintin is what truly matters to him.)
Tintin in Tibet is . . . I'm looking forward to re-reading this, because even on a quick late-night skim it was just so emotionally rich and moving. I want to say Tintin is almost a different person, but that's not quite right and makes the changes in him sound like flawed writing. Tintin's recognizably himself (that absolute stubborn determination is just a more extreme form of his usual perseverance) but this is Tintin at the breaking point, guilt-ridden, grieving, and ever so fragile. He cries, for heaven's sake. The most self-contained, stoic boy in the world cries. Haddock, meanwhile, is made of about 98% pure awesome; he keeps trying to talk sense into Tintin, but when that fails, and tantrums and ultimatums fail, in the end he follows after Tintin to try and keep him safe.
[A thought: Tintin has not actually been the main character of these comics since Land of Black Gold. Starting with the moon books, it's Haddock who's actually the focus character even though Tintin is still, well, the hero. Even during Tintin in Tibet, where Tintin gets more emotions than he usually does, I think the story's heart is still Haddock's worry and his loyalty.]
As I read The Castafiore Emerald I kept imagining an ad for it that would read: Tintin and Captain Haddock face their most dangerous foe yet--women!
Well, to be fair it's only one woman, and she's more a comedy diva than a female stereotype per se. Nevertheless, this story is about as strong a repudiation of heterosexual romance for these characters as possible. My wicked old slashy heart can't help loving Haddock's absolute horror at the marriage rumors, the way he clings to Tintin to protect him, and the fact that Tintin is the only other person who never for a minute believes Haddock might be marrying Bianca Castafiore.
It's interesting, too, that there's no actual crime in this one, and no real adventure. It's pure domestic comedy, in this case about preserving Moulinsart as a little all-male shelter from the rest of the world (divas, television crews, combing one's hair). Haddock in certain ways is the embodiment of domesticity, but it's domesticity of a distinctly unconventional kind.
Oh, and to return to the subject of Tintin and Haddock being married, at some point (I think I first noticed it in The Calculus Affair) they start saying "we" a lot. They introduce Calculus as "our friend"; they talk about "our windows" having been broken, etc. *loves*
Crossposted at Dreamwidth (
comments); you can comment here or there.