Tiziano Sclavi. The Dylan Dog Case Files.
Shook, David
Tiziano Sclavi. The Dylan Dog Case Files. Bojana Dozic et al., tr.
Milwaukie, Oregon. Dark Horse. 2009. 680 pages, ill. $24.95. ISBN 978-1-59582-206-2
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
Dylan Dog is a London-based nightmare investigator conceptualized
by Tiziano Sclavi. He is the protagonist of a comic book printed
serially in Italy, with a rotating cast of Italian comics artists and
dialogue writers including Angelo Stano, Andrea Venturi, Giampero
Casertano, and Reed Chaval. Dog is a heartbroken playboy, more often
whimsical or lucky than brave, accompanied by his assistant Felix. He
is, however, instantly likeable, with his propensity for model ships,
clarinet, and his VW Beetle. His sidekick Felix is a weak foil, an
oddball utterer of jokes so corny that their translation into English
must have been difficult--perhaps a backhanded compliment to the
multiple translators (among them Bojana Dozic, Hazim Kazic, and Violeta
Jurkovic) of the volume.
Entirely in black and white, the book's art is consistently
proficient but not noteworthy. At times, especially in "Zed,"
for example, it appears sloppy. The variety of artists isn't
noticeable; they have done a good job of rendering Dylan Dog
consistently, and that ambition perhaps canceled any possibilities for
greater visual interest.
The text of The Case Files does contain a rich amount of highbrow
allusions, especially to classical music and literature. There is also
some interconnectedness between the stories, though reading them out of
order would not detract much from their meaning. One consistent theme is
the series' efforts to humanize monsters--often beginning with
situations of political incorrectness (like "Johnny Freak,"
about a deaf-mute child amputee) but end in true compassion, without
patronizing their subjects.
The book quotes Umberto Eco on its cover, ranking Dog alongside
the Bible and Homer in terms of entertainment value. Superficially, that
is perhaps true. The Case Files are entertaining, though they vary
rather little. By the end of each story, Investigator Dog has solved
whatever mystery was set before him, if it hasn't been otherwise
resolved. Nightmares include zombies, prostitute killers, mysterious
realities, and the like; none is particularly noteworthy on its own.
Umberto Eco on the beach in Greece, vacationing from writing On
Ugliness, reading and rereading Dylan Dog, does not grow bored.
David Shook
Los Angeles
