Poem Strip. Dino Buzzati. Translated by Marina Harss. New York Review Comics. 2026. 224pp. $22.95.
There’s a certain sense of freshness to Dino Buzzati’s Poem Strip, a work of comics originally published in 1969, while also carrying its own particular baggage. That fresh look and feel is the one-panel-per-page format which can be a good approach. Originally titled, Poema a fumetti, it is a graphic narrative that “modernizes” the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. It has been translated into English and the latest edition is now out by New York Review Comics. It’s great to have a new edition out, for many reasons. There’s as much to learn as there is to admire. I think two things can be true at the same time: here is a significant work; and here is something we might push back on just a bit.
The original Italian, Poema a fumetti.
Buzzati, at 63, was entering the later stage of life when he created this book which is ultimately a meditation on mortality. This is Buzzati, known mostly as a novelist (The Tartar Steppe), leading the charge. For his first and only foray into comics, Buzzati floods his work with a sea of provocative and disturbing images of women, like a drunken Surrealist. Given that Buzzati did not have a background as a cartoonist, the years or decades of thinking in those terms, it’s not farfetched to say he might have made some overzealous rookie missteps. He pressed his foot down hard on the pedal, that much is certain. With a lurch, by accident or not, this moved a lot forward.
A shaggy dog, or bull in a china shop.
Remember, Buzzati was primarily a novelist. He was not attuned to the comics medium. The narrative plods along. And he loads up on images sourced from what appears typical sources, fashion magazines and porn. What I’m seeing is image after image of deer-in-the-headlights poses of women, mostly nude, acting as “assistants” to our hero, Orfi, as he descends into the underworld. The images reach their crescendo with a depiction of a nude woman strung up like a pig on a fire pit. Pretty nutty stuff. Good? Bad? Genius? What I surmise is that the subtext, or real driver to this work, is of an older man looking back with regret as old age stands in the way of any further carnal desire met at youth’s fever pitch. That reasoning would tie things up rather well. I’m not against this book at all. I don’t really see it as a masterpiece, per se. I do see it as a shaggy dog, or a bull in a china shop, that zigzags its way through. And that’s a great thing in and of itself. At the end of the day, you can still say that Buzzati made a contribution, laid some of the countless groundwork toward comics art that pursues more mature themes. We do want more weird comics, especially well thought out and well designed weirdness.
Ostensibly, this is a modern retelling of the ancient Greek tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice. Orfi is a hipster musician; Eura is his girlfriend who is abducted by supernatural forces. Orfi searches, pleads, begs, even sings, his way to Eura. A bargain must be struck with the captors, as the myth would have it. If Orfi can leave with his beloved Eura without looking back at his captors, they are free to go. Otherwise, as the legend would have it, no dice. That’s the elevator pitch, so to speak. The reality, once you’re committed to reading, is a lamenting over old age and the end of any further lustful adventures.
Dino Buzzati revels in this lamenting. It’s an eternal dance with death. No matter how enticing or alluring, each of the maidens depicted are already dead, at peace with their fate. The bright day will inevitably give way to the infinite night.
This is a new English translation by Marina Harss. Her contribution is a wonderful compliment to this work: very natural, always moving the narrative, or poetry, forward. The slowest section in the book is a number of pages devoted to Orfi’s lyrics as he sings for Eura’s release. It’s enjoyable and I believe the Harss version saves it.
From sex to death.
The story of Orpheus and Eurydice, with a decidedly mod retelling, and regretful ode to lust and mortality, is what it is or was what it was. This new edition invites you to see for yourself. Unfortunately, there is no introduction or afterward or anything to guide the contemporary reader into this work. It would be wonderful to have such a written piece to accompany this most intriguing forerunner to the world of mature comics art.
