5 out of 5

Yeah, they got me.  Since I was sort of ‘eh’ on the last Blake and Mortimer I read (Swordfish pt. 2), excepting that it seemed like the characters and vibe would / could be more rewarding the more I read, I was maybe secretly hoping to dislike this volume so I could save some room on my shelf.  I also feel like I’ve echoed this sentiment regarding some other books, so apparently I secretly hate the things I own, which I’m sure is an expression of self hate.  Save me, y’all.

So part of the success of ‘Oath,’ for sure, is that it’s self-contained.  And while my followup comment might be linked to that, I think it can be taken separately: that the largest contributor to what made this book for me was that its intentions were clear from the start – Yves Sente and artist André Juillard set out to make a classic adventure tale, and they land it, panel after panel.  In comparison, ‘Swordfish,’ being, I believe, one of creator Jacobs’ first Blake & Mortimer tales, felt a little stalled between finding a humorous tone, or a bumbling detective tone, or action, or historical…   ‘Oath’ is just set up like your favorite 80s TV detective tale – a historical preface that becomes relevant later, a ‘supernatural’ element that can be explained away logically, a link to a character’s past, and etc.  Current American / Brit books would try to do this to a certain extent with the noir revolution brought on, in part, by Ed Brubaker, but the Tintin-esque vibe of Blake & Mortimer – or, rather, that European flair, I suppose – makes this so much more innocent; it’s not a cheeky take on the genre, it’s how the characters and stories were designed.  Now at the same time, our modern creators have absolutely stayed true to Jacobs’ work: although the tone is more focused, I can instantly recognize the characters and their bond.

The tale concerns some thefts from a museum, along with a horrid string of murders of the owners of the items stolen.  Captain Blake seems connected to the group that’s being offed, but Mortimer finds himself involved first, having been called in by a student working at the museum to give some lectures.  The ‘happenstance’ of both men being involved in the same scenario is executed masterfully, as well as the eventual reveals that make the reasons for things playing out as they did clearer.  Sente, in his brief interview in the back, admits to being able to have fun with some real history that Jacobs wasn’t able to work into his tales, but as a reader who loathes history, I was pleased with how he kept the focus on the mystery, leaving the historical references as fun details.  The pacing of vol. 16 is perfect throughout, though we’ll allow that Yves goes in for a full talking heads page (which was big in the Swordfish volume I read) as a tribute to Jacobs.

On the art side, Juillard’s figures have the benefit of the years of work before him, but the layouts are just awesome.  Several times he pops detective clues into the background, which makes you scour each and every face you see… though just as many are truly just part of the background and no more.  Because it’s done with the same foreground / background focus (he’s not purposefully drawing reader attention to the clues  more than the non-clues), instead of seeming like a hokey device, it really instills a sense of presence to the proceedings.

To drop a reference out of left field, the recent spate of Marvel flicks have given us some pretty solid adventure tales in recent past, but they are, undoubtedly, spectacles all the same.  It’s been a long while since we’ve gotten something as relatively grounded (but fantastic) as, say, the original Indiana Jones – just an honest-to-god thrill, done with smiles and grit.  And in comics, in its pure form, it’s a pretty rare thing too.  But Sente and Juillard’s addition to the Blake & Mortimer series just capture the vibe from start to finish.