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Capturé en pleine Palombie par des Indiens Chahutas et vendu à des trafiquants d'animaux exotiques, un marsupilami débarque dans les années 50 au port d'Anvers. Réussissant à s'enfuir, il arrive dans la banlieue de Bruxelles et est recueilli par François, un jeune garçon fan d'animaux dont le quotidien est loin d'être facile. Le début d'une aventure passionnante, parfois sombre mais toujours porteuse d'espoir, et d'une belle amitié.
156 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 9, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 128 reviews
March 13, 2021
Who said comics/graphic novels were just for children? Because Marsupilami: The Beast can be enjoyed by all ages.
Francois Van Den Kroot is a young boy with a big heart and a deep love for animals. It is Francois’ love of all creatures big and small that leaves him with a mini zoo at his home.
The son of a departed German soldier, Francois becomes the “punching bag” for bullies at his school. The victim of a constant barrage of ridicule, jokes and harassment, Francois tearily runs and hides under a bridge for safety, comfort, and solitude. There, under the bridge, he discovers an unusual creature. A creature that appears to be a cross between a leopard and a monkey with dog-like ears, and with an extremely long tail. Francois aptly names the creature “Longtail.”
Proud of his new discovery, Francois is eager to share his discovery with his classmates at school. What can go wrong in a small classroom with dozens of ooglely-eyed children?
Marsupilami: The Beast is the first part of a two part comic series. And it certainly got my attention. The cover is what intrigued me at first. Then after “googling” Marsupilami, I was hooked and just had to read the comic. I was not disappointed. The illustrations and storyline just grabbed me and I couldn’t put it down until I finished it. I can’t wait for part two. Five illustrious stars.
I received a digital copy of the comic from Europe Comics through NetGalley. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.
Francois Van Den Kroot is a young boy with a big heart and a deep love for animals. It is Francois’ love of all creatures big and small that leaves him with a mini zoo at his home.
The son of a departed German soldier, Francois becomes the “punching bag” for bullies at his school. The victim of a constant barrage of ridicule, jokes and harassment, Francois tearily runs and hides under a bridge for safety, comfort, and solitude. There, under the bridge, he discovers an unusual creature. A creature that appears to be a cross between a leopard and a monkey with dog-like ears, and with an extremely long tail. Francois aptly names the creature “Longtail.”
Proud of his new discovery, Francois is eager to share his discovery with his classmates at school. What can go wrong in a small classroom with dozens of ooglely-eyed children?
Marsupilami: The Beast is the first part of a two part comic series. And it certainly got my attention. The cover is what intrigued me at first. Then after “googling” Marsupilami, I was hooked and just had to read the comic. I was not disappointed. The illustrations and storyline just grabbed me and I couldn’t put it down until I finished it. I can’t wait for part two. Five illustrious stars.
I received a digital copy of the comic from Europe Comics through NetGalley. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.
March 30, 2021
Marsupilami: The Beast
by Zidrou, Frank Pé
This graphic comic has incredible art and a cute story once it gets going. Slow to start trying to give the backdrop but it's needed. Of course like most comics it leaves you hanging so you will get the next book. The story is about a young boy that is always bullied and a creature that survives a horrible zoo and escapes. The animal is nothing the men have ever seen before and money is their driving force.
The little boy lives with his mom. He is always bringing home injured animals to heal and love. The house is filled with misfits. The boy finds this creature near death. From there, things get crazy!
It's an enjoyable story. Worth the read for sure. Kids will certainly like it.
I want to thank the publisher and NetGalley for letting me read this book.
by Zidrou, Frank Pé
This graphic comic has incredible art and a cute story once it gets going. Slow to start trying to give the backdrop but it's needed. Of course like most comics it leaves you hanging so you will get the next book. The story is about a young boy that is always bullied and a creature that survives a horrible zoo and escapes. The animal is nothing the men have ever seen before and money is their driving force.
The little boy lives with his mom. He is always bringing home injured animals to heal and love. The house is filled with misfits. The boy finds this creature near death. From there, things get crazy!
It's an enjoyable story. Worth the read for sure. Kids will certainly like it.
I want to thank the publisher and NetGalley for letting me read this book.
January 16, 2025
Mais um belíssimo trabalho saído das mãos de dois pesos pesados da banda desenhada franco-belga.
O argumento de Zidrou é bem construído, com personagens sólidas e bem desenvolvidas. Achei bem escolhidas as cores usadas nas ilustrações (e que tão bem nos remetem para uma Europa do pós-guerra) e adorei a forma como a história consegue fluir através das vinhetas. A escolha da letra para os balões também é bonita e perceptível.
Todo o trabalho tem um ar muito cuidado e a sensação ao folheá-lo é a de que nada foi deixado ao acaso. Do desenho ao argumento, tudo encaixa maravilhosamente. Parabéns à editora por esta edição de altíssima qualidade e em português.
O único senão: termos de aguardar pela continuação da história. Que venha logo esse segundo volume!
O argumento de Zidrou é bem construído, com personagens sólidas e bem desenvolvidas. Achei bem escolhidas as cores usadas nas ilustrações (e que tão bem nos remetem para uma Europa do pós-guerra) e adorei a forma como a história consegue fluir através das vinhetas. A escolha da letra para os balões também é bonita e perceptível.
Todo o trabalho tem um ar muito cuidado e a sensação ao folheá-lo é a de que nada foi deixado ao acaso. Do desenho ao argumento, tudo encaixa maravilhosamente. Parabéns à editora por esta edição de altíssima qualidade e em português.
O único senão: termos de aguardar pela continuação da história. Que venha logo esse segundo volume!
April 1, 2021
I grew up with Franquin's Marsupilami comics, so I was really interested in seeing this.. what is it? A reboot? Doesn't matter, it's pretty great.
At first it feels like it's a gritty reboot, but it's more realistic than gritty. It's the 1950s, and smugglers of exotic animals moor their ship at a town in Belgium. One of the poor animals they inadvertently have shipped there is a Marsupilami, sort of a mix of a monkey and a leopard. But this is not the carefree, funny Marsupilami of Franquin, this is a wild animal, that's clearly been through the wringer, and it's no surprise that he's very wary and aggressive.
In the town lives a little boy, François, who is horribly bullied by classmates, because his father was a German soldier. He has the tendency to bring home all kinds of animals, and so when he finds the wounded, half-dead Marsupilami beside a road, he takes him home.
It's another great story by Zidrou, a writer who can't do anything wrong, it seems. Characters' problems are taking seriously, have weight and aren't easily solvable. I like that the Marsupilami feels like an actual wild animal in this story, not just a goofy sentient cuddly toy.
Frank Pe, who I know from his Ragebol series, does an exemplary job. His art is grimy where it needs to be (a post-war town almost perpetually getting rained upon), and incredibly characterful.
Ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but not one of the usual infuriating ones created by Europe Comics itself, this feels natural.
It's great, don't miss it. Hooba!
(Picked up a copy through NetGalley)
At first it feels like it's a gritty reboot, but it's more realistic than gritty. It's the 1950s, and smugglers of exotic animals moor their ship at a town in Belgium. One of the poor animals they inadvertently have shipped there is a Marsupilami, sort of a mix of a monkey and a leopard. But this is not the carefree, funny Marsupilami of Franquin, this is a wild animal, that's clearly been through the wringer, and it's no surprise that he's very wary and aggressive.
In the town lives a little boy, François, who is horribly bullied by classmates, because his father was a German soldier. He has the tendency to bring home all kinds of animals, and so when he finds the wounded, half-dead Marsupilami beside a road, he takes him home.
It's another great story by Zidrou, a writer who can't do anything wrong, it seems. Characters' problems are taking seriously, have weight and aren't easily solvable. I like that the Marsupilami feels like an actual wild animal in this story, not just a goofy sentient cuddly toy.
Frank Pe, who I know from his Ragebol series, does an exemplary job. His art is grimy where it needs to be (a post-war town almost perpetually getting rained upon), and incredibly characterful.
Ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but not one of the usual infuriating ones created by Europe Comics itself, this feels natural.
It's great, don't miss it. Hooba!
(Picked up a copy through NetGalley)
March 18, 2024
Some books stay unread in my shelves for too long.
This is a good example of that.
What a fantastic masterpiece!
One of the best reads this year, so far. I enjoyed every second of it.
Fabulous story. Fabulous writing. Fabulous illustrations. Fabulous edition.
This edition by "A Seita" is super good. Very high quality edition. It made my reading experience even better.
Don't be mistaken by the title. This is a super adorable story that will tighten your heart.
If there is a graphic novel you should read, it's this one.
The 2nd part of this story has been release in France late 2023. Can't wait to see it published here.
This is a good example of that.
What a fantastic masterpiece!
One of the best reads this year, so far. I enjoyed every second of it.
Fabulous story. Fabulous writing. Fabulous illustrations. Fabulous edition.
This edition by "A Seita" is super good. Very high quality edition. It made my reading experience even better.
Don't be mistaken by the title. This is a super adorable story that will tighten your heart.
If there is a graphic novel you should read, it's this one.
The 2nd part of this story has been release in France late 2023. Can't wait to see it published here.
November 20, 2021
4,5/5 arrondi à 5/5.
Je n’ai jamais lu de BD avec le marsupilami mais c’est un personnage que je connais grâce aux dessins animés à la télévision (j’avoue : j’était déjà adulte quand je les regardais mais bon, même les BD sont parues alors que j’étais adulte !). Si la bestiole a pour certains une connotation enfantine, la couverture de cet album va vite les détromper : le marsupilami n’a vraiment pas l’air d’une adorable peluche et le titre n’arrange rien. Le relativement grand format s’approchant du carré est super pour mettre en valeur le graphisme (moins pour le glisser sur une étagère) et l’objet est beau et soigné. C’est déjà un régal de le tenir en main. Les dessins sont forts, avec un côté assez réalistes et le style plonge les lecteurs dans les années 1950, avec des couleurs un peu pâles, aux tons souvent gris ou sépia, qui noircissent l’atmosphère, la rendant humide et lourde. Il faut dire qu’avec cette réécriture de l’histoire du marsupilami, on est loin du monde aux tons gentillets habituels : la vie de François est loin d’être simple, entre la pauvreté et le harcèlement, les animaux qu’il recueille ont eux aussi soumis à la violence des humains et l’arrivée d’un spécimen inconnu et donc par défaut effrayant n’arrange rien quant aux réactions des gens gravitantc autour du gamin et de sa ménagerie. Forcément, aimant moi aussi les animaux, je ne peux qu’être aux côtés de François et de sa maman et trembler pour leur sort et celui de leurs protégés (Zidrou m’avait déjà fait pleurer toutes les larmes de mon corps avec une nouvelle de « La vieille dame qui n’avait jamais joué au tennis et autres nouvelles qui font du bien » alors je crains qu’il recommence !). Je trouve que le récit est bien plus crédible que le mythe original du marsupilami car il est plus réaliste et n’occulte pas le danger que peut représenter un animal tout en montrant qu’il a aussi des sentiments et des ressentis émotionnels. L’histoire parle aussi de tolérance et d’acceptation de tout ce qui peut être différent mais aussi des normes imposées par la société et le poids de l’Histoire sur la vie quotidienne des individus (et l’influence des parents sur leurs enfants !). On est donc bien loin des albums jeunesse et c’est donc une lecture puissante et passionnante qui m’a prise aux tripes et m’a laissée très frustrée avec un suspense final qui va être long à subir avant de voir arriver le deuxième et dernier tome ! Mais dès qu’il paraitra, je vais me jeter dessus !
Je n’ai jamais lu de BD avec le marsupilami mais c’est un personnage que je connais grâce aux dessins animés à la télévision (j’avoue : j’était déjà adulte quand je les regardais mais bon, même les BD sont parues alors que j’étais adulte !). Si la bestiole a pour certains une connotation enfantine, la couverture de cet album va vite les détromper : le marsupilami n’a vraiment pas l’air d’une adorable peluche et le titre n’arrange rien. Le relativement grand format s’approchant du carré est super pour mettre en valeur le graphisme (moins pour le glisser sur une étagère) et l’objet est beau et soigné. C’est déjà un régal de le tenir en main. Les dessins sont forts, avec un côté assez réalistes et le style plonge les lecteurs dans les années 1950, avec des couleurs un peu pâles, aux tons souvent gris ou sépia, qui noircissent l’atmosphère, la rendant humide et lourde. Il faut dire qu’avec cette réécriture de l’histoire du marsupilami, on est loin du monde aux tons gentillets habituels : la vie de François est loin d’être simple, entre la pauvreté et le harcèlement, les animaux qu’il recueille ont eux aussi soumis à la violence des humains et l’arrivée d’un spécimen inconnu et donc par défaut effrayant n’arrange rien quant aux réactions des gens gravitantc autour du gamin et de sa ménagerie. Forcément, aimant moi aussi les animaux, je ne peux qu’être aux côtés de François et de sa maman et trembler pour leur sort et celui de leurs protégés (Zidrou m’avait déjà fait pleurer toutes les larmes de mon corps avec une nouvelle de « La vieille dame qui n’avait jamais joué au tennis et autres nouvelles qui font du bien » alors je crains qu’il recommence !). Je trouve que le récit est bien plus crédible que le mythe original du marsupilami car il est plus réaliste et n’occulte pas le danger que peut représenter un animal tout en montrant qu’il a aussi des sentiments et des ressentis émotionnels. L’histoire parle aussi de tolérance et d’acceptation de tout ce qui peut être différent mais aussi des normes imposées par la société et le poids de l’Histoire sur la vie quotidienne des individus (et l’influence des parents sur leurs enfants !). On est donc bien loin des albums jeunesse et c’est donc une lecture puissante et passionnante qui m’a prise aux tripes et m’a laissée très frustrée avec un suspense final qui va être long à subir avant de voir arriver le deuxième et dernier tome ! Mais dès qu’il paraitra, je vais me jeter dessus !
February 24, 2023
Una versión "realista" de las aventuras del Marsupilami en las que los padecimientos del animal exportado ilegalmente a Bélgica se cruzan con los de una familia que sufre las consecuencias de la ocupación alemana de Bélgica. Trama interesante y dibujo excelente.
November 18, 2020
Comment ça “fin de l’épisode” ? ! Comment ça “fin” ?!! me suis-je écrié, choqué en lisant la dernière page de ce premier tome. J’étais tellement plongé dans la lecture de La Bête, bande dessinée de Zidrou et Frank Pé tout fraichement sortie chez Dupuis, que j’ai eu un choc en arrivant à la fin. J’en voulais encore !
Vous l’aurez sans doute reconnue sur la couverture, la bête c’est le Marsupilami, cet étrange animal venu de Palombie créé par André Franquin en 1952 et apparu pour la première fois dans Spirou et Fantasio avant d’avoir sa propre série. Le Marsupilami a bercé mon enfance, comme celle de nombreux enfants. Moi je l’ai découvert assez tard, en arrivant en France alors que j’étais déjà au collègue, mais j’en ai tout de même lu plusieurs.
Inutile de présenter le Marsupilami, tout le monde connaît. C’est ce qui m’a tout d’abord donné envie de découvrir la bête de Zidrou et Pé, je me demandais comment ils allaient se saisir du sujet, et cette couverture à l’ambiance inquiétante me laisser entrevoir quelque chose d’original et bien loin de la version originale. Et bien je n’ai pas été trompé, Zidrou et Pé nous livrent un récit bien plus glauque et sombre que ce que proposent les traditionnelles histoires du Marsupilami, bête joyeuse et amicale quoi que bagarreuse. Ici le Marsupilami est une bête sauvage, arrachée à sa forêt par des chasseurs peu scrupuleux, puis amenée en Belgique par des contrebandiers dans des conditions affreuses. Il arrive apeuré, affamé, déshydraté. Il est sale, farouche, affamé, épuisé, apeuré. Mais ce n’est pas sur lui que ce centre ce premier épisode. L’histoire est construite autour du jeune François. Nous sommes à Bruxelles, en 1955, François vit seul avec sa mère, il est le fils d’un soldat allemand. La guerre a beau être finie, les blessures n’ont pas encore cicatrisé et le jeune François en fait les frais. Harcelé dans son école, il trouve refuge auprès d’une ménagerie d’animaux estropiés qu’il ramasse au grès de ses vagabondages, eu grand désarroi de sa mère qui voit leur maison transformé en zoo de fortune. C’est ainsi, qu’un soir, après avoir été victime de brimades sévères, il revient à la maison avec une étrange bête, vous l’aurez compris François a trouvé le Marsupilami et veut l’apprivoiser, le soigner. Mais on va lui mettre des bâtons dans les roues, parce que la connerie ne vient jamais seule (en général elle a des parents…).
Je ne vous en dis pas plus, j’ai le sentiment d’avoir déjà trop parlé. Mais je conseille cette bande dessinée à tout le monde, que vous aimiez le Marsupilami ou pas. Car si la bête a bien les caractéristiques de l’animal de Franquin, l’ambiance de cette bande dessinée est bien plus grave et traite de sujet intéressant comme le rejet, le harcèlement à l’école, la solitude, etc. Et, si l’histoire est rondement bien menée, nous tenant du début à la fin, les dessins sont superbes, les planches du bateau dans le port d’Anvers sont à couper le souffle. J’ai beaucoup aimé la mise en page alternant des illustrations plain page avec des planches plus classiques. L’histoire est assez sombre, mais il y a aussi des touches d’humour qui m’ont beaucoup amusé, le directeur de l’école avec ses démonstrations par l’absurde est très drôle.
Tout cela pourrait se résumer en un mot : j’adore ! J’ai hâte de découvrir la suite.
Vous l’aurez sans doute reconnue sur la couverture, la bête c’est le Marsupilami, cet étrange animal venu de Palombie créé par André Franquin en 1952 et apparu pour la première fois dans Spirou et Fantasio avant d’avoir sa propre série. Le Marsupilami a bercé mon enfance, comme celle de nombreux enfants. Moi je l’ai découvert assez tard, en arrivant en France alors que j’étais déjà au collègue, mais j’en ai tout de même lu plusieurs.
Inutile de présenter le Marsupilami, tout le monde connaît. C’est ce qui m’a tout d’abord donné envie de découvrir la bête de Zidrou et Pé, je me demandais comment ils allaient se saisir du sujet, et cette couverture à l’ambiance inquiétante me laisser entrevoir quelque chose d’original et bien loin de la version originale. Et bien je n’ai pas été trompé, Zidrou et Pé nous livrent un récit bien plus glauque et sombre que ce que proposent les traditionnelles histoires du Marsupilami, bête joyeuse et amicale quoi que bagarreuse. Ici le Marsupilami est une bête sauvage, arrachée à sa forêt par des chasseurs peu scrupuleux, puis amenée en Belgique par des contrebandiers dans des conditions affreuses. Il arrive apeuré, affamé, déshydraté. Il est sale, farouche, affamé, épuisé, apeuré. Mais ce n’est pas sur lui que ce centre ce premier épisode. L’histoire est construite autour du jeune François. Nous sommes à Bruxelles, en 1955, François vit seul avec sa mère, il est le fils d’un soldat allemand. La guerre a beau être finie, les blessures n’ont pas encore cicatrisé et le jeune François en fait les frais. Harcelé dans son école, il trouve refuge auprès d’une ménagerie d’animaux estropiés qu’il ramasse au grès de ses vagabondages, eu grand désarroi de sa mère qui voit leur maison transformé en zoo de fortune. C’est ainsi, qu’un soir, après avoir été victime de brimades sévères, il revient à la maison avec une étrange bête, vous l’aurez compris François a trouvé le Marsupilami et veut l’apprivoiser, le soigner. Mais on va lui mettre des bâtons dans les roues, parce que la connerie ne vient jamais seule (en général elle a des parents…).
Je ne vous en dis pas plus, j’ai le sentiment d’avoir déjà trop parlé. Mais je conseille cette bande dessinée à tout le monde, que vous aimiez le Marsupilami ou pas. Car si la bête a bien les caractéristiques de l’animal de Franquin, l’ambiance de cette bande dessinée est bien plus grave et traite de sujet intéressant comme le rejet, le harcèlement à l’école, la solitude, etc. Et, si l’histoire est rondement bien menée, nous tenant du début à la fin, les dessins sont superbes, les planches du bateau dans le port d’Anvers sont à couper le souffle. J’ai beaucoup aimé la mise en page alternant des illustrations plain page avec des planches plus classiques. L’histoire est assez sombre, mais il y a aussi des touches d’humour qui m’ont beaucoup amusé, le directeur de l’école avec ses démonstrations par l’absurde est très drôle.
Tout cela pourrait se résumer en un mot : j’adore ! J’ai hâte de découvrir la suite.
March 15, 2021
Meet the Marsupilami - a character that originated in Belgian comics in the 1950s that is so well-known and thought of it has at least three public statues of it across that country. It's a complete bodge by Mother Nature, with a leopard kind of pelt, blue hands and feet, something of the monkey in the way it can lope about on four feet, and a humongous tail. Here, it washes ashore in Belgium in the post-WW2 years, practically the sole survivor of a failed animal capture expedition for the zoos, and while homeless gets adopted into the menagerie of an oft-picked-on schoolkid. With no idea what kind of books and stories it featured in in the past, I have to say this packs a lot in, from the burgeoning romance story for the lad's mother, herself persona no grata due to certain wartime activities, to the rest of the characters in amongst the kid's collection of animal foundlings. And all told it's a really good reboot – really strong visuals, that lift this from being a throw-back to a kid's title, are the best thing here. But the story is no throwaway nostalgia-fest, giving us a lot of shade and interest. The fact this is planned as a two-part, two-book product, with the second chunk still yet to come in French (as of March 2021), means we may well not see the likes of a further thirty books bearing the animal, as before, but the end result is certainly an intriguing piece, and more than suitable as an adult's read. A strong four stars.
December 6, 2020
Que dire?! L'histoire, les dessins, les couleurs, tout y est. Et le clou du clou, la cerise sur le gâteau, découvrir à la fin de l'album qu'il ne s'agit que du premier tome! Une incroyable réinterprétation du Marsupilami et peut-être même de Spirou (j'avance sans preuve mais il est permis de rêver, ce que le Petit Spirou ne permet absolument pas).
Dans les années cinquante, un marsupilami capturé en Palombie s'enfuit du port d'Anvers et parvient dans les faubourgs de Bruxelles...
Une histoire sombre et touchante à la fois.
Dans les années cinquante, un marsupilami capturé en Palombie s'enfuit du port d'Anvers et parvient dans les faubourgs de Bruxelles...
Une histoire sombre et touchante à la fois.
April 19, 2026
My Selling Pitch:
Jojo Rabbit x Calvin and Hobbes
Pre-reading:
The cover reminds me of Blacksad which is one of my all time faves.
(obviously potential spoilers from here on)
Thick of it:
Poor animals!
I don’t think I've ever had a detritus sin in a graphic novel before lol.
A little Jojo Rabbit
That quote about the embers is really romantic.
They're so cute together. I hope nothing bad happens.
The art reminds me of Bill Peet’s.
Post-reading:
That was so cute and bittersweet. I can't wait for part two. It's appropriate for children while also having more adult content for older readers. The pop culture references helped establish the time period and didn't feel overdone. The art is charming. The characters are likable. There's nothing I would change. I think if you liked Jojo Rabbit, you'll like this.
Who should read this:
Disney fans
Bill Peet kids turned adults
Jojo Rabbit fans
Ideal reading time:
Anytime
Do I want to reread this:
I think I'll just remember it.
Would I buy this:
Yes
Similar books:
* Blacksad by Juan Diaz Canales-historical, noir, graphic novel, personified animals
* Animal Pound by Tom King-graphic novel, classic retelling, political satire, personified animals
* The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden-historical, magical realism, romance, queer, ensemble cast
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Jojo Rabbit x Calvin and Hobbes
Pre-reading:
The cover reminds me of Blacksad which is one of my all time faves.
(obviously potential spoilers from here on)
Thick of it:
Poor animals!
I don’t think I've ever had a detritus sin in a graphic novel before lol.
A little Jojo Rabbit
That quote about the embers is really romantic.
They're so cute together. I hope nothing bad happens.
The art reminds me of Bill Peet’s.
Post-reading:
That was so cute and bittersweet. I can't wait for part two. It's appropriate for children while also having more adult content for older readers. The pop culture references helped establish the time period and didn't feel overdone. The art is charming. The characters are likable. There's nothing I would change. I think if you liked Jojo Rabbit, you'll like this.
Who should read this:
Disney fans
Bill Peet kids turned adults
Jojo Rabbit fans
Ideal reading time:
Anytime
Do I want to reread this:
I think I'll just remember it.
Would I buy this:
Yes
Similar books:
* Blacksad by Juan Diaz Canales-historical, noir, graphic novel, personified animals
* Animal Pound by Tom King-graphic novel, classic retelling, political satire, personified animals
* The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden-historical, magical realism, romance, queer, ensemble cast
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
April 3, 2022
This book was so beautifully drawn, incredible art! It transported me to post-WWII Belgium.
The updated take on the Marsupilami is a darker one but one steeped in realism and perfectly fits the era it’s written in. The book actually takes place in 1955, 3 years after Franquin (of Spirou and Gaston fame) invented the animal in the pages of Spirou & Fantasio. Here it’s Franz, a kind boy that shelters animals instead of Spirou who finds the beast.
Great stuff, to be concluded when volume 2 comes out, I can’t wait!
The updated take on the Marsupilami is a darker one but one steeped in realism and perfectly fits the era it’s written in. The book actually takes place in 1955, 3 years after Franquin (of Spirou and Gaston fame) invented the animal in the pages of Spirou & Fantasio. Here it’s Franz, a kind boy that shelters animals instead of Spirou who finds the beast.
Great stuff, to be concluded when volume 2 comes out, I can’t wait!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 2, 2022
Pues me ha gustado mucho, lleva el clásico personajillo del Marsupilami salido de Spirou a un entorno más crudo. Ocurre en Bélgica tras la segunda guerra mundial, donde se juntan un niño que es repudiado por ser hijo de un nazi con el Marsupilami que llega y siembra el caos en el puerto. Así cuenta su historia que no sé si tiene que salir un segundo álbum o tiene un final demasiado abierto.
Luego es un tocho bastante grande, cuadrado, pero a la par es muy ligero.
Luego es un tocho bastante grande, cuadrado, pero a la par es muy ligero.
May 20, 2022
Mélangeant realité et fiction. Lecture très émouvante et assez triste nous représentant bien la mentalité de l'époque ainsi que les actions faites sur une nouvelle espèce débarquant en Europe. Pauvre marsu et la famille Van Den Bosche...
March 17, 2021
Wow. This was sensational.
The illustrations in this graphic novel have unrivalled heart; the creatures within are just wonderfully captured and I swiftly became invested in each of them. Francois has a habit of bringing animals in need back to his home with his mother, and whilst she may complain a little she ultimately supports him with his unusual menagerie of creatures and critters. The story centres around Francois finding an unusual creature, appearing something of a hybrid between a leopard and a monkey, and trying to understand him.
There was so much to appreciate. The relationship between Francois and his mother, Francois' mother alone was an interesting character (who reminded me a great deal of my own mother in her capacity to flex and bend for her children), the way in which the authors captured Francois and his vulnerabilities (even in the illustrations alone, sometimes), the depiction of the creatures and most of all the relatability. We have all, at some time in our lives, seen a creature we have pitied. And some of us have even had the courage to stand up for those creatures, as Francois does, and bring them home with us (almost certainly much to our parents' disgust). Some of our parents may have even reacted to yet another new animal addition with disdain, but eventually acceptance and love.
I just can't fault it. It is uncommon for me to love a graphic novel; I struggle to form attachments to characters who invariably have such little page time. But this is the exception to that rule. This is a genuine masterpiece, and I cannot wait to see what happens in the next instalment.
ARC provided from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
The illustrations in this graphic novel have unrivalled heart; the creatures within are just wonderfully captured and I swiftly became invested in each of them. Francois has a habit of bringing animals in need back to his home with his mother, and whilst she may complain a little she ultimately supports him with his unusual menagerie of creatures and critters. The story centres around Francois finding an unusual creature, appearing something of a hybrid between a leopard and a monkey, and trying to understand him.
There was so much to appreciate. The relationship between Francois and his mother, Francois' mother alone was an interesting character (who reminded me a great deal of my own mother in her capacity to flex and bend for her children), the way in which the authors captured Francois and his vulnerabilities (even in the illustrations alone, sometimes), the depiction of the creatures and most of all the relatability. We have all, at some time in our lives, seen a creature we have pitied. And some of us have even had the courage to stand up for those creatures, as Francois does, and bring them home with us (almost certainly much to our parents' disgust). Some of our parents may have even reacted to yet another new animal addition with disdain, but eventually acceptance and love.
I just can't fault it. It is uncommon for me to love a graphic novel; I struggle to form attachments to characters who invariably have such little page time. But this is the exception to that rule. This is a genuine masterpiece, and I cannot wait to see what happens in the next instalment.
ARC provided from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
October 31, 2020
Un superbe roman graphique que je recommande à tous
Mots clés : trafic animal, marsupilami, après-guerre, harcèlement, historique
Wow, quelle superbe bande-dessiné. Les premières pages étaient très sombres et à cause de cela j’avais repoussé cette lecture mais finalement, pour le readathon #halloweenatnd, je m’y suis mise et j’ai adoré. On y retrouve le marsupilami, animal fictif créé par André Franquin, dans un monde d’après-guerre. Le trafic d’animaux, le harcèlement sont des sujets abordés dans cette bande-dessiné de manière très intéressante. Le petit François est très attachant et sa maman est une femme que j’admire. A cause du fait que son papa est allemand, François se fait harceler à l’école. De plus, tout n’est pas rose pour la maman non plus, se faisait elle aussi harceler d’une certaine manière. Leur histoire est très touchante je trouve. J’ai bien aimé les dessins, les couleurs font un peu vintage et certaines illustrations sont superbement détaillées. J’ai vraiment hâte de lire la suite parce que là, je n’ai pas du tout envie de rester sur cette fin à suspense. Je recommande à tous le monde, petits et grands.
5/5
Merci à Netgalley pour cette copie en échange de mon honnête opinion.
Mots clés : trafic animal, marsupilami, après-guerre, harcèlement, historique
Wow, quelle superbe bande-dessiné. Les premières pages étaient très sombres et à cause de cela j’avais repoussé cette lecture mais finalement, pour le readathon #halloweenatnd, je m’y suis mise et j’ai adoré. On y retrouve le marsupilami, animal fictif créé par André Franquin, dans un monde d’après-guerre. Le trafic d’animaux, le harcèlement sont des sujets abordés dans cette bande-dessiné de manière très intéressante. Le petit François est très attachant et sa maman est une femme que j’admire. A cause du fait que son papa est allemand, François se fait harceler à l’école. De plus, tout n’est pas rose pour la maman non plus, se faisait elle aussi harceler d’une certaine manière. Leur histoire est très touchante je trouve. J’ai bien aimé les dessins, les couleurs font un peu vintage et certaines illustrations sont superbement détaillées. J’ai vraiment hâte de lire la suite parce que là, je n’ai pas du tout envie de rester sur cette fin à suspense. Je recommande à tous le monde, petits et grands.
5/5
Merci à Netgalley pour cette copie en échange de mon honnête opinion.
October 24, 2025
Sympa mais déçue que ça n'aille pas plus loin dans le concept.
March 9, 2025
Τι να πρώτο πω για αυτό το έργο. Θα το λατρεψετε μικροί και μεγάλοι. Θα σας πω πρώτα την ιστορία του Μαρσουπιλαμι και μετά θα σας δώσω πόλους λόγους που πρέπει να το διαβάσετε εσείς ή/και τα παιδιά σας.
Στην Αμβέρσα, φθάνει ένα πλοίο, που κουβαλούσε λαθραία ζώα. Ο αγαπημένος Μαρσουπιλαμι,τον πέρασαν για πίθηκο μέχρι που έφτασαν εκεί και πήγαν να εξετάσουν την κατάσταση του ζώου. Το ζώο ξέφυγε και η τύχη του χαμογέλασε. Μπόρεσε να βρει στον δρόμο του, τον Φρανσουά και τον πήρε μαζί στο σπίτι για να τον κάνει καλά. Τα υπόλοιπα πρέπει να μάθετε μόνοι σας διαβάζοντας το.
Έχω ακούσει, πολλές φορές ότι τα κόμιξ είναι για παιδιά. Έλα όμως που είναι και για "μεγάλα" παιδιά. Τα μηνύματα που μπορεί να σου προσφέρει είναι πάρα πολλά και μπορούν να σε αγγίξουν.
Θίγει αρκετά σύγχρονα θέματα που έχουν απασχολήσει όλους μας. Όλοι κάποια στιγμή θα έχουμε πέσει θύμα bullying, θα έχουμε ακούσει μια ιστορία από ένα οικείο μας. Εδώ με τον πρωταγωνιστή θα ταυτιστείς. Επίσης ένα μεγάλο θέμα που συναντάμε στις μέρες είναι η ξενοφοβία. Βέβαια μας πηγαίνει πολλά χρόνια πίσω, το 1950 που τους Γερμανούς δεν τους ήθελε και πολύ κόσμος, αλλά και πάλι δεν επιτρέπεται αυτή η συμπεριφορά σε κανένα.
Το άλλο που αγάπησα σε αυτό το βιβλίο, είναι η αγάπη που δείχνει για τα ζώα. Τα αδέσποτα, ότι υπάρχει κάποιος εκεί έξω και τα σκέφτεται. Θα τα πάρει σπίτι του για να τα φροντίσει πάρα τις ιδιαιτεροτητες που μπορεί να έχουν.
Αν κάνεις μια καλή πράξη, πιστεύω θα σου γυρίσει επί 100.
Να το αγοράσετε είτε για εσάς, είτε για τα παιδιά, είτε για κάποιον που αγαπάει αυτόν τον κόσμο των κόμιξ. Θα το βρουν αρκετά ενδιαφέρον τόσο για το υπέροχο θέμα του όσο για την απίστευτη εικονογραφίση πού έχει.
Στην Αμβέρσα, φθάνει ένα πλοίο, που κουβαλούσε λαθραία ζώα. Ο αγαπημένος Μαρσουπιλαμι,τον πέρασαν για πίθηκο μέχρι που έφτασαν εκεί και πήγαν να εξετάσουν την κατάσταση του ζώου. Το ζώο ξέφυγε και η τύχη του χαμογέλασε. Μπόρεσε να βρει στον δρόμο του, τον Φρανσουά και τον πήρε μαζί στο σπίτι για να τον κάνει καλά. Τα υπόλοιπα πρέπει να μάθετε μόνοι σας διαβάζοντας το.
Έχω ακούσει, πολλές φορές ότι τα κόμιξ είναι για παιδιά. Έλα όμως που είναι και για "μεγάλα" παιδιά. Τα μηνύματα που μπορεί να σου προσφέρει είναι πάρα πολλά και μπορούν να σε αγγίξουν.
Θίγει αρκετά σύγχρονα θέματα που έχουν απασχολήσει όλους μας. Όλοι κάποια στιγμή θα έχουμε πέσει θύμα bullying, θα έχουμε ακούσει μια ιστορία από ένα οικείο μας. Εδώ με τον πρωταγωνιστή θα ταυτιστείς. Επίσης ένα μεγάλο θέμα που συναντάμε στις μέρες είναι η ξενοφοβία. Βέβαια μας πηγαίνει πολλά χρόνια πίσω, το 1950 που τους Γερμανούς δεν τους ήθελε και πολύ κόσμος, αλλά και πάλι δεν επιτρέπεται αυτή η συμπεριφορά σε κανένα.
Το άλλο που αγάπησα σε αυτό το βιβλίο, είναι η αγάπη που δείχνει για τα ζώα. Τα αδέσποτα, ότι υπάρχει κάποιος εκεί έξω και τα σκέφτεται. Θα τα πάρει σπίτι του για να τα φροντίσει πάρα τις ιδιαιτεροτητες που μπορεί να έχουν.
Αν κάνεις μια καλή πράξη, πιστεύω θα σου γυρίσει επί 100.
Να το αγοράσετε είτε για εσάς, είτε για τα παιδιά, είτε για κάποιον που αγαπάει αυτόν τον κόσμο των κόμιξ. Θα το βρουν αρκετά ενδιαφέρον τόσο για το υπέροχο θέμα του όσο για την απίστευτη εικονογραφίση πού έχει.
February 28, 2023
(PT) Em 1955, no porto de Antuérpia, um navio traz da América do Sul animais exóticos para o Jardim Zoológico. Contudo, é tudo uma catástrofe e dos poucos sobreviventes, apareceu um estranho animal com uma enorme cauda...
"A Fera" é uma BD realística da personagem Marsupilami, criada por André Franquin para "Spirou e Fantásio"e se tornou na personagem mais popular da série, e a criação que deixou Franquin na imortalidade dos criadores da BD franco-belga do século XX. Se na criação é um animal simpático que ataca quando se sente ameaçado, aqui é diferente: uma família monoparental, com um rapaz com poucos amigos por causa de algo que não consegue entender muito bem. E sofre com isso. E o seu único escape são os animais, algo do qual ele é fã e recolhe todos os que puder. Todos... excêntricos, como por exemplo, o cavalo que bebe cerveja.
Retrato de uma Bélgica do pós-guerra, o ambiente está bem desenhado e bem captado. É um libro que, sendo realista, mostra que a raridade pode ser um modelo de amizade para um garoto solitário, mas também pode ser a glória para aqueles que a buscam, não interessa os seus métodos. E este álbum, basicamente, é como a apresentação de personagens que irão desenvolver uma história bem maior.
Acabo de ler o álbum com vontade de saber se já estão a traduzir o resto.
"A Fera" é uma BD realística da personagem Marsupilami, criada por André Franquin para "Spirou e Fantásio"e se tornou na personagem mais popular da série, e a criação que deixou Franquin na imortalidade dos criadores da BD franco-belga do século XX. Se na criação é um animal simpático que ataca quando se sente ameaçado, aqui é diferente: uma família monoparental, com um rapaz com poucos amigos por causa de algo que não consegue entender muito bem. E sofre com isso. E o seu único escape são os animais, algo do qual ele é fã e recolhe todos os que puder. Todos... excêntricos, como por exemplo, o cavalo que bebe cerveja.
Retrato de uma Bélgica do pós-guerra, o ambiente está bem desenhado e bem captado. É um libro que, sendo realista, mostra que a raridade pode ser um modelo de amizade para um garoto solitário, mas também pode ser a glória para aqueles que a buscam, não interessa os seus métodos. E este álbum, basicamente, é como a apresentação de personagens que irão desenvolver uma história bem maior.
Acabo de ler o álbum com vontade de saber se já estão a traduzir o resto.
February 7, 2023
El dibuix és increïble, però la història és una espècie de revisió d'ET ambientada en la Bèlgica posterior a la Segona Guerra Mundial, amb un to trist i gris que no esperava d'un còmic protagonitzat (d'aquella manera) per un marsupilami.
July 14, 2024
Já estou naquele ponto em que quando vejo o nome de Zidrou na capa de um livro, sei que vou gostar (muito) dele... Há-de chegar o dia em que, se calhar, ficarei desiludido... Esse dia não chegou ainda, e não c9m este livro...
Agora, quero muito ler a continuação!
Agora, quero muito ler a continuação!
November 8, 2020
Wat een fabuleuze tekeningen. Het verhaal is claustrofobisch en ondergeschikt, maar wat een sfeer.
December 25, 2020
Tout simplement génial
May 7, 2022
Wauw, wat een mooi verhaal. En bij de tekeningen wordt alle ruimte genomen om het verhaal in beeld te brengen. Topper!
January 14, 2023
Ich wurde unterhalten.
March 23, 2024
Beautiful art and a very sad story of the first sighting of a Marsupilami in Brussels in the 1950s. Great book.
March 7, 2023
Une petite merveille.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A Tail Too Long for the Page and a World Too Small for Mercy
“The Beast” gives its marsupilami one of the great impossible bodies in comics, then sets that body loose in a Belgium full of bullies, bureaucrats, and adults who think a clipboard counts as wisdom.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | April 6th, 2026
Before anything in “The Beast” is loved, it is labeled. On the Antwerp docks in late 1955, trapped animals arrive not as lives but as damaged goods: dead macaques, spoiled cargo, money gone missing, a voyage gone sour. Men curse, joke, and reckon the dead like damaged freight in the same breath. By the time the lone survivor appears – some impossible long-tailed animal yanked out of the jungle and across the ocean – the dock has already set the terms. Wonder comes late. The ledger comes first.
Zidrou and Frank Pé begin in a world where contempt comes salted and loud. Yes, this is a marsupilami book. No, it does not handle that inheritance delicately. The spotted coat is still there, the impossible tail is still there, even the cry of “Houba!” still flickers around the edges of the character’s old comic life. But “The Beast” does not preserve whimsy in a display case. It drops that absurd, elegant body into a rain-lacquered, rubbed-raw postwar Belgium and asks what such a place would do to it. The answer arrives before the question can stand upright: slap a tag on it, price it, stick it somewhere visible, then move it along.
Plenty happens. More interesting is how fast a surprise acquires paperwork. After escaping the ship, the marsupilami finds his way to François Van den Bosche, a boy in Brussels who is typed before he speaks. François is tormented at school because his absent father was a German soldier. The war may be over on paper, but the neighborhood still keeps its own files. Other boys rename him, shrink him, and make him answer for an adult history he did not choose. At home he lives with his mother Jeanne, who sells seafood, has no use for Sunday-parlor talk that cannot survive a kitchen sink, and runs a household full of rescued animals in every shade of battered. Once François gets the creature home, the novel stops warming up.
It also refuses both cuddliness and reverence. Jeanne complains, worries about smell and disease, mutters the case for practical sanity, and keeps feeding the animal anyway. François does what he always does: he makes room. Longtail is stuffed in turn into a series of bad categories: monkey, leopard, malformed dog, escaped circus beast, zoological scandal. The guesses are funny because adults get funniest when control starts leaking out of the room. Guessing is how they try to get uncertainty to lie still. It is also where ownership begins in the mind. François, meanwhile, has been pre-sorted in smaller, crueler ways – by schoolyard slur, wartime afterlife, and neighborhood gossip. “The Beast” is most alive when it lets those two bad readings rhyme without forcing them into allegory. François is not a symbol with muddy shoes. Longtail is not a furry thesis with a tail. They remain obstinately themselves, which is why the feeling arrives earned, not pressed on the reader.
At the docks, the whole procedure is already visible. The men unloading the delayed ship are not grand villains. They are worse: they are ordinary. Their loud, well-practiced callousness gives the pages their first ugly jolt. Animals die, money disappears, somebody jokes about “kittens,” somebody else calculates what can still be sold. It lands because no one pauses to call any of it horror. Reduction arrives in dock talk, which may be worse. The same reflex dogs Longtail from dock to veterinary office to classroom to zoo, and it dogs François too, in slurs, nicknames, complaints, and official concern. This town does not merely misread by accident. It misreads by habit.
Here the dialogue quits posing and starts lifting weight. Call it prose if you need to; it behaves more like speech. Zidrou does not chase stately display. He wants banter, irritation, gossip, blundering courtship, and the little sidesteps by which people reveal more than they meant to. Mr. Boniface, François’s teacher, is the clearest example: a man whose faith in comedy makes him look unserious to the adults around him and, more importantly, keeps him from confusing authority with meanness. His jokes are not garnish. They are one of the few ways the book imagines decency in an adult without making him saintly or dull. Jeanne gets some of the sharpest lines because she has no patience for tidy sentiment that cannot survive a fish knife. Even the more lyrical moments arrive almost sideways, as when despair is compared to a heart wanting someone to blow on it like an ember. Most often, though, language here has rougher work to do. Names are not neutral. They are tags, slurs, shortcuts, little bureaucracies of the mouth.
So the school scenes bruise by accumulation. François is not tormented in some operatic register. He is renamed first, mocked second, and made to answer for his father’s history every day after that. The cruelty is cheap, practiced, and all the meaner for being routine. Zidrou is smart enough to keep it small until it stops feeling small. He does not need elaborate sadism. A nickname will do. A laugh will do. A mother worrying aloud at the school gate will do. The reflex that bullies a boy is very near the reflex that later justifies a complaint, a search, a removal. The move from schoolyard taunt to formal procedure is not a fresh argument arriving halfway through. It is the same old argument learning to hold a clipboard.
Outside, there is always one more wet pavement and colder gossip. Inside, complaint and mercy share a room. Jeanne’s house is the one kitchen where mercy still shows up for work, even while muttering under its breath. François’s collection of wounded animals could easily have hardened into storybook uplift, but Jeanne’s exasperation keeps the feeling honest. She has bills, fish guts, stale bread, fish scraps, limited space, a son who keeps arriving with half-ruined animals in his arms, and exactly zero illusions about any of it. What we get is a household built out of leftovers, irritation, and mercy. Feeding matters here. So does bathing. So does hiding. Care is not posture in this book. It is labor: scraps fetched home, mess tolerated, one more body fitted into a room already full. That distinction matters because the book later gives us custody pretending to be care and official concern pretending to be mercy. Jeanne knows the difference. She has had to.
Frank Pé handles the heavier lifting. The palette that moves across dock, street, classroom, market, and kitchen is steeped in fish-water gray and wet-brick brown: muddy roads, cold whites, murky greens, the colors of a place still trying to dry out from war and industry and never quite managing it. Streets shine in the wrong way. Rooms hold damp. Even the calmer panels look faintly smoked over. None of this is here merely to flatter the book with atmosphere. It keeps misery from curdling into décor. Just as important, it keeps Longtail strange without turning him into a mascot. He is funny, filthy, elegant, frightened, tight-wound. Then there is the tail, ridiculous and sovereign. It cuts across panels, redirects the eye, makes settled compositions nervous. The panels do not merely serve the script. They keep saying what dialogue would only blunt.
Beneath the bustle, the gears are better hidden than they first seem. For a first volume, the book is admirably impatient. Longtail begins as hidden cargo, becomes an escaped anomaly, then a house secret, then a veterinary nuisance and curiosity, then a classroom attraction, then an official problem with paperwork attached, then zoo property. Each fresh act of recognition makes him easier to process and harder to spare. François moves through a quieter version of the same machine. He begins as a bullied schoolboy and ends attached, in official eyes, to disorder, danger, and a household that needs correcting. That ratchet is the real motion: here, recognition arrives dressed as concern and behaves like exposure. What begins in Jeanne’s kitchen keeps ending up under somebody else’s fluorescent light.
The classroom strips the mechanism nearly bare. For a brief stretch, Longtail’s visit to school produces delight rather than panic. Children ask idiotic and excellent questions. Boniface turns the whole affair into a drawing exercise. The animal becomes a source of wonder, curiosity, and comic overflow. Then the scene sours in an instant. There is mess, rough handling, laughter, panic, a climb, a dangling tail, a near fall. Once Longtail becomes spectacle, he is already halfway to becoming evidence. In one sense, the novel’s whole design exposes its joinery right there. Something extraordinary enters a room; the room turns it into an event; the event demands management. Slapstick and danger share a page. Some readers will dislike that on principle. I think the book needs exactly that tonal burr. Here, humiliation is funny until it suddenly is not, and public amusement becomes the warm-up act for punishment.
Then the letter arrives and throws the whole story into a harsher scale. Franz has returned to Germany, to a wife and daughters. He asks Jeanne not to write again, not to come, not to keep trying. To her people he will always be the filthy foreigner. He says this not with melodrama but with the cruelty of a man tidying up his own life on company time, as if retreat had hardened into the arrangement history made easiest for him and cruelest for Jeanne. The war is over, he writes. So is their love story. Open it, and the whole book shifts its weight. Jeanne has not been living inside a romantic mystery. François has not inherited a tragic silhouette. What they have inherited is a social afterlife – the long, ordinary afterlife of one man’s exit and one town’s refusal to forget how it prefers to sort people.
The risky contraption at the center of “The Beast” should not quite work, and somehow does. The book takes a creature associated with comic elasticity and puts him in a world of seafood stalls, schoolyard malice, wet pavements, municipal procedure, and postwar shame without sanding down either side of the contrast. Its smartest formal move is also its simplest. Longtail is not merely in the story. His body keeps disturbing the forms the story wants to put around him. The tail is funny, yes, but it is also a line of refusal running through the page.
Control, here as elsewhere, returns with its hand out. Several authority figures arrive in thick strokes – the pompous vet, the procedural police, the adults whose first social instinct is complaint. Their function is clear, perhaps a little too clear. The book’s moral arrangement can look neat in places, with warmth clustered in Jeanne’s cluttered kitchen and coercion clustered anywhere tidy enough to file a report. Dishonest is not the word. Selective is closer. The book simplifies exactly where it wants the pressure to fall. Whether that reads as force or flattening will depend on how much tonal scrape a reader is willing to tolerate.
The roughness is deliberate. Without it, “The Beast” would risk becoming tasteful and dead. Its language of safety has the nasty trick of sounding pre-worn for reuse. Its interest in trafficking is concrete, not there for respectable seasoning. Its schoolyard cruelty has the queasy ring of something still in use. Its official language around danger, safety, and removal sounds familiar in the worst way. But its eye stays fixed on habits, not headlines – on those quick, mean, labor-saving reflexes by which people stamp first, sigh second, and take custody third.
I land at 87/100 – 4 stars on Goodreads: sharp, bruised, and often unexpectedly lovely, though not so fully fused in tone or human complexity that resistance simply melts away. What comes back afterward, uninvited, is not only Longtail’s body, though Frank Pé draws one hard to forget. It is the sequence the book keeps repeating until you cannot miss it: crate, classroom, complaint, cage. Each is a little machine for turning concern into procedure. “The Beast” never lets us forget how often the world pretends that naming has settled the matter – and how quickly, once that pretense takes hold, someone eventually appears with a truck, a cage, a clipboard tucked under one arm, and language neat enough to make all three sound like the kind of thing sensible people call unavoidable.
“The Beast” gives its marsupilami one of the great impossible bodies in comics, then sets that body loose in a Belgium full of bullies, bureaucrats, and adults who think a clipboard counts as wisdom.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | April 6th, 2026
Before anything in “The Beast” is loved, it is labeled. On the Antwerp docks in late 1955, trapped animals arrive not as lives but as damaged goods: dead macaques, spoiled cargo, money gone missing, a voyage gone sour. Men curse, joke, and reckon the dead like damaged freight in the same breath. By the time the lone survivor appears – some impossible long-tailed animal yanked out of the jungle and across the ocean – the dock has already set the terms. Wonder comes late. The ledger comes first.
Zidrou and Frank Pé begin in a world where contempt comes salted and loud. Yes, this is a marsupilami book. No, it does not handle that inheritance delicately. The spotted coat is still there, the impossible tail is still there, even the cry of “Houba!” still flickers around the edges of the character’s old comic life. But “The Beast” does not preserve whimsy in a display case. It drops that absurd, elegant body into a rain-lacquered, rubbed-raw postwar Belgium and asks what such a place would do to it. The answer arrives before the question can stand upright: slap a tag on it, price it, stick it somewhere visible, then move it along.
Plenty happens. More interesting is how fast a surprise acquires paperwork. After escaping the ship, the marsupilami finds his way to François Van den Bosche, a boy in Brussels who is typed before he speaks. François is tormented at school because his absent father was a German soldier. The war may be over on paper, but the neighborhood still keeps its own files. Other boys rename him, shrink him, and make him answer for an adult history he did not choose. At home he lives with his mother Jeanne, who sells seafood, has no use for Sunday-parlor talk that cannot survive a kitchen sink, and runs a household full of rescued animals in every shade of battered. Once François gets the creature home, the novel stops warming up.
It also refuses both cuddliness and reverence. Jeanne complains, worries about smell and disease, mutters the case for practical sanity, and keeps feeding the animal anyway. François does what he always does: he makes room. Longtail is stuffed in turn into a series of bad categories: monkey, leopard, malformed dog, escaped circus beast, zoological scandal. The guesses are funny because adults get funniest when control starts leaking out of the room. Guessing is how they try to get uncertainty to lie still. It is also where ownership begins in the mind. François, meanwhile, has been pre-sorted in smaller, crueler ways – by schoolyard slur, wartime afterlife, and neighborhood gossip. “The Beast” is most alive when it lets those two bad readings rhyme without forcing them into allegory. François is not a symbol with muddy shoes. Longtail is not a furry thesis with a tail. They remain obstinately themselves, which is why the feeling arrives earned, not pressed on the reader.
At the docks, the whole procedure is already visible. The men unloading the delayed ship are not grand villains. They are worse: they are ordinary. Their loud, well-practiced callousness gives the pages their first ugly jolt. Animals die, money disappears, somebody jokes about “kittens,” somebody else calculates what can still be sold. It lands because no one pauses to call any of it horror. Reduction arrives in dock talk, which may be worse. The same reflex dogs Longtail from dock to veterinary office to classroom to zoo, and it dogs François too, in slurs, nicknames, complaints, and official concern. This town does not merely misread by accident. It misreads by habit.
Here the dialogue quits posing and starts lifting weight. Call it prose if you need to; it behaves more like speech. Zidrou does not chase stately display. He wants banter, irritation, gossip, blundering courtship, and the little sidesteps by which people reveal more than they meant to. Mr. Boniface, François’s teacher, is the clearest example: a man whose faith in comedy makes him look unserious to the adults around him and, more importantly, keeps him from confusing authority with meanness. His jokes are not garnish. They are one of the few ways the book imagines decency in an adult without making him saintly or dull. Jeanne gets some of the sharpest lines because she has no patience for tidy sentiment that cannot survive a fish knife. Even the more lyrical moments arrive almost sideways, as when despair is compared to a heart wanting someone to blow on it like an ember. Most often, though, language here has rougher work to do. Names are not neutral. They are tags, slurs, shortcuts, little bureaucracies of the mouth.
So the school scenes bruise by accumulation. François is not tormented in some operatic register. He is renamed first, mocked second, and made to answer for his father’s history every day after that. The cruelty is cheap, practiced, and all the meaner for being routine. Zidrou is smart enough to keep it small until it stops feeling small. He does not need elaborate sadism. A nickname will do. A laugh will do. A mother worrying aloud at the school gate will do. The reflex that bullies a boy is very near the reflex that later justifies a complaint, a search, a removal. The move from schoolyard taunt to formal procedure is not a fresh argument arriving halfway through. It is the same old argument learning to hold a clipboard.
Outside, there is always one more wet pavement and colder gossip. Inside, complaint and mercy share a room. Jeanne’s house is the one kitchen where mercy still shows up for work, even while muttering under its breath. François’s collection of wounded animals could easily have hardened into storybook uplift, but Jeanne’s exasperation keeps the feeling honest. She has bills, fish guts, stale bread, fish scraps, limited space, a son who keeps arriving with half-ruined animals in his arms, and exactly zero illusions about any of it. What we get is a household built out of leftovers, irritation, and mercy. Feeding matters here. So does bathing. So does hiding. Care is not posture in this book. It is labor: scraps fetched home, mess tolerated, one more body fitted into a room already full. That distinction matters because the book later gives us custody pretending to be care and official concern pretending to be mercy. Jeanne knows the difference. She has had to.
Frank Pé handles the heavier lifting. The palette that moves across dock, street, classroom, market, and kitchen is steeped in fish-water gray and wet-brick brown: muddy roads, cold whites, murky greens, the colors of a place still trying to dry out from war and industry and never quite managing it. Streets shine in the wrong way. Rooms hold damp. Even the calmer panels look faintly smoked over. None of this is here merely to flatter the book with atmosphere. It keeps misery from curdling into décor. Just as important, it keeps Longtail strange without turning him into a mascot. He is funny, filthy, elegant, frightened, tight-wound. Then there is the tail, ridiculous and sovereign. It cuts across panels, redirects the eye, makes settled compositions nervous. The panels do not merely serve the script. They keep saying what dialogue would only blunt.
Beneath the bustle, the gears are better hidden than they first seem. For a first volume, the book is admirably impatient. Longtail begins as hidden cargo, becomes an escaped anomaly, then a house secret, then a veterinary nuisance and curiosity, then a classroom attraction, then an official problem with paperwork attached, then zoo property. Each fresh act of recognition makes him easier to process and harder to spare. François moves through a quieter version of the same machine. He begins as a bullied schoolboy and ends attached, in official eyes, to disorder, danger, and a household that needs correcting. That ratchet is the real motion: here, recognition arrives dressed as concern and behaves like exposure. What begins in Jeanne’s kitchen keeps ending up under somebody else’s fluorescent light.
The classroom strips the mechanism nearly bare. For a brief stretch, Longtail’s visit to school produces delight rather than panic. Children ask idiotic and excellent questions. Boniface turns the whole affair into a drawing exercise. The animal becomes a source of wonder, curiosity, and comic overflow. Then the scene sours in an instant. There is mess, rough handling, laughter, panic, a climb, a dangling tail, a near fall. Once Longtail becomes spectacle, he is already halfway to becoming evidence. In one sense, the novel’s whole design exposes its joinery right there. Something extraordinary enters a room; the room turns it into an event; the event demands management. Slapstick and danger share a page. Some readers will dislike that on principle. I think the book needs exactly that tonal burr. Here, humiliation is funny until it suddenly is not, and public amusement becomes the warm-up act for punishment.
Then the letter arrives and throws the whole story into a harsher scale. Franz has returned to Germany, to a wife and daughters. He asks Jeanne not to write again, not to come, not to keep trying. To her people he will always be the filthy foreigner. He says this not with melodrama but with the cruelty of a man tidying up his own life on company time, as if retreat had hardened into the arrangement history made easiest for him and cruelest for Jeanne. The war is over, he writes. So is their love story. Open it, and the whole book shifts its weight. Jeanne has not been living inside a romantic mystery. François has not inherited a tragic silhouette. What they have inherited is a social afterlife – the long, ordinary afterlife of one man’s exit and one town’s refusal to forget how it prefers to sort people.
The risky contraption at the center of “The Beast” should not quite work, and somehow does. The book takes a creature associated with comic elasticity and puts him in a world of seafood stalls, schoolyard malice, wet pavements, municipal procedure, and postwar shame without sanding down either side of the contrast. Its smartest formal move is also its simplest. Longtail is not merely in the story. His body keeps disturbing the forms the story wants to put around him. The tail is funny, yes, but it is also a line of refusal running through the page.
Control, here as elsewhere, returns with its hand out. Several authority figures arrive in thick strokes – the pompous vet, the procedural police, the adults whose first social instinct is complaint. Their function is clear, perhaps a little too clear. The book’s moral arrangement can look neat in places, with warmth clustered in Jeanne’s cluttered kitchen and coercion clustered anywhere tidy enough to file a report. Dishonest is not the word. Selective is closer. The book simplifies exactly where it wants the pressure to fall. Whether that reads as force or flattening will depend on how much tonal scrape a reader is willing to tolerate.
The roughness is deliberate. Without it, “The Beast” would risk becoming tasteful and dead. Its language of safety has the nasty trick of sounding pre-worn for reuse. Its interest in trafficking is concrete, not there for respectable seasoning. Its schoolyard cruelty has the queasy ring of something still in use. Its official language around danger, safety, and removal sounds familiar in the worst way. But its eye stays fixed on habits, not headlines – on those quick, mean, labor-saving reflexes by which people stamp first, sigh second, and take custody third.
I land at 87/100 – 4 stars on Goodreads: sharp, bruised, and often unexpectedly lovely, though not so fully fused in tone or human complexity that resistance simply melts away. What comes back afterward, uninvited, is not only Longtail’s body, though Frank Pé draws one hard to forget. It is the sequence the book keeps repeating until you cannot miss it: crate, classroom, complaint, cage. Each is a little machine for turning concern into procedure. “The Beast” never lets us forget how often the world pretends that naming has settled the matter – and how quickly, once that pretense takes hold, someone eventually appears with a truck, a cage, a clipboard tucked under one arm, and language neat enough to make all three sound like the kind of thing sensible people call unavoidable.
March 13, 2021
After reading another book by the aptly-named publishing house, European Comics, and absolutely loving it – I decided to wade into their catalogue to see what else they had to offer. I picked Marsupilami based on the cover, as it looked fairly interesting. I’m glad I did because this was a great comic in each and every way.
“Belgium, 1955. A mysterious animal is caught in the jungles of South America and transported to Europe on a cargo ship, where it ends up starving and half-dead on the outskirts of Brussels. François, a young boy with a fondness for taking in strays, finds it and brings it home to his mother and his menagerie—his best and only friends. As the son of a departed German soldier, François is the favorite target of every bully in school. Nobody can identify the strange creature with the voracious appetite and the stupendously long tail, and François figures his new pet is perfect for show-and-tell… But with a wild beast and a small classroom, things quickly get out of hand. Will this spell the end for François’s new animal friend? The real story of the legendary Marsupilami!”
Marsupilami is an interesting story, not too different than a typical “dog bites somebody and the villainous neighborhood busybody wants it put down” story with a number of interesting twists. First and foremost – the setting. This takes place in Belgium a decade after the end of World War II. With the war over, some wounds take time to heal, and being seen as someone that had ANYTHING to do with the German occupation put that person in a bad place. Thus the plight of our hero Francois, a boy relentlessly bullied at school due to being the lovechild of a Belgian Woman and a German Soldier, he retreats into a world of taking care of exotic animals in his very own home menagerie.
Next up we have the “dog” which is a crazy cryptid of some sort – seemingly a monkey with feline attributes and a 30 foot long tail. I was initially worried this would be a simple horror story with “The Beast” going on a rampage, but truthfully he seems pretty intelligent and acts only in self-preservation. whether it be animal smugglers, or The bullies at Francois’ school – something is always trying to attack the poor creature. Francois and his family, including the animals, are his only allies, it seems.
This was part one of a two part story, it’s hard to read it without the other half, but I quite enjoyed this. The setting was awesome, and the tropes were used well to create something wholly unique. I can’t wait to finish this, but hope that it doesn’t end on a huge downer.
“Belgium, 1955. A mysterious animal is caught in the jungles of South America and transported to Europe on a cargo ship, where it ends up starving and half-dead on the outskirts of Brussels. François, a young boy with a fondness for taking in strays, finds it and brings it home to his mother and his menagerie—his best and only friends. As the son of a departed German soldier, François is the favorite target of every bully in school. Nobody can identify the strange creature with the voracious appetite and the stupendously long tail, and François figures his new pet is perfect for show-and-tell… But with a wild beast and a small classroom, things quickly get out of hand. Will this spell the end for François’s new animal friend? The real story of the legendary Marsupilami!”
Marsupilami is an interesting story, not too different than a typical “dog bites somebody and the villainous neighborhood busybody wants it put down” story with a number of interesting twists. First and foremost – the setting. This takes place in Belgium a decade after the end of World War II. With the war over, some wounds take time to heal, and being seen as someone that had ANYTHING to do with the German occupation put that person in a bad place. Thus the plight of our hero Francois, a boy relentlessly bullied at school due to being the lovechild of a Belgian Woman and a German Soldier, he retreats into a world of taking care of exotic animals in his very own home menagerie.
Next up we have the “dog” which is a crazy cryptid of some sort – seemingly a monkey with feline attributes and a 30 foot long tail. I was initially worried this would be a simple horror story with “The Beast” going on a rampage, but truthfully he seems pretty intelligent and acts only in self-preservation. whether it be animal smugglers, or The bullies at Francois’ school – something is always trying to attack the poor creature. Francois and his family, including the animals, are his only allies, it seems.
This was part one of a two part story, it’s hard to read it without the other half, but I quite enjoyed this. The setting was awesome, and the tropes were used well to create something wholly unique. I can’t wait to finish this, but hope that it doesn’t end on a huge downer.
April 5, 2021
CW: Nudity, animal death (please tell me if you see anything missing)
Having read the comics during my childhood, I was curious to see where this new take on the classic and goofy Marsupilami would go. I was certainly shocked, but not disappointed. Already from the cover, I knew I was in for the ride, yet the first few pages still shocked me with graphic drawings of dead animals. This book takes place in post-WW2 Belgium, and we follow a little boy whose mom had him with a Nazi soldier, both are ostracised and mocked, and the child gets bullied at school. The entire story starts when the little boy brings in an odd looking stray animal into his home, like he usually does, except this one cannot be identified as any known species.
Considering this is a duology, my biggest praise for the plot is that I cannot wait for the second part. The cliffhanger at the end broke my heart and I desperately wanna know what happens next. I really enjoyed the story and its multiple little subplots and mysteries it has going on. It starts off slow as the audience is introduced to the characters and the setting and then quickly picks up.
The characters. I loved them. One of the parts I enjoyed most about this book was the menagerie of strays that the boy has brought home. The name Tripod for the three legged dog made me laugh, and seeing all the interactions the animals had with each other was a sweet break from the otherwise grim narrative. The little boy is shown to be strong and determined, especially when it comes to animals in need of help, and although the mom seems to be reluctant at first, she obliges every time. The dynamics between everyone warmed my heart.
I loved this book, even with the sharp contrast it has to the original comics. The art style is also very different, but very characteristic of an older comic style, matching the tone of the book perfectly, as well as having very detailed and complex illustrations. People who like plot driven and character driven stories will enjoy this as it focuses on both, which can be difficult for graphic novels. I would recommend this to people who like darker tones in their stories with a little sprinkle of wholesomeness as well. :)
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
Having read the comics during my childhood, I was curious to see where this new take on the classic and goofy Marsupilami would go. I was certainly shocked, but not disappointed. Already from the cover, I knew I was in for the ride, yet the first few pages still shocked me with graphic drawings of dead animals. This book takes place in post-WW2 Belgium, and we follow a little boy whose mom had him with a Nazi soldier, both are ostracised and mocked, and the child gets bullied at school. The entire story starts when the little boy brings in an odd looking stray animal into his home, like he usually does, except this one cannot be identified as any known species.
Considering this is a duology, my biggest praise for the plot is that I cannot wait for the second part. The cliffhanger at the end broke my heart and I desperately wanna know what happens next. I really enjoyed the story and its multiple little subplots and mysteries it has going on. It starts off slow as the audience is introduced to the characters and the setting and then quickly picks up.
The characters. I loved them. One of the parts I enjoyed most about this book was the menagerie of strays that the boy has brought home. The name Tripod for the three legged dog made me laugh, and seeing all the interactions the animals had with each other was a sweet break from the otherwise grim narrative. The little boy is shown to be strong and determined, especially when it comes to animals in need of help, and although the mom seems to be reluctant at first, she obliges every time. The dynamics between everyone warmed my heart.
I loved this book, even with the sharp contrast it has to the original comics. The art style is also very different, but very characteristic of an older comic style, matching the tone of the book perfectly, as well as having very detailed and complex illustrations. People who like plot driven and character driven stories will enjoy this as it focuses on both, which can be difficult for graphic novels. I would recommend this to people who like darker tones in their stories with a little sprinkle of wholesomeness as well. :)
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
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