Review by Karl Verhoven

Florence Magnin wastes no time hooking readers into the mysteries of her mystical drama, opening with a scene of two men, one bold, the other timid, wandering through rural Ireland in 1801 and stumbling on a foreboding, mist shrouded place. The remains of fearsomely adorned Viking boats are accompanied by skulls on poles, yet of creatures unknown on Earth. Onward they go.

Cut to exotic dancer Emilie in Monmartre in 1923. On the day she’s sacked she also receives a lawyer’s letter, and that leads to the inheritance of the title. It’s a house and surrounding lands in Ireland, abandoned for over a century when Emilie’s distant relative died. She’s advised to sell immediately, but prefers to visit. Readers see what Emilie doesn’t, that there’s an element of manipulation.

Magnin has put an incredible amount of work into Emilie’s Inheritance, certainly in terms of an engaging plot, but more so in the careful art. Not only does the story require the convincing replication of two distinct eras, but well before the end it’s also opened into fantasy. Magnin’s detailed precision has a beauty throughout, the exception being the noticeably ordinary looking people, which is a welcome change from the idealised glamour usually applied to comics.

“The arrival of a tramp in that godforsaken hole won’t raise any eyebrows” informs readers the pleasant viewing Emilie anticipates is unlikely to occur. As she journeys there, she reads her ancestor’s diary, which continues from the opening sequence and becomes ever more incredible, yet also a warning.

On the basis of this opening volume there’s a little of Outlander’s romanticising both the past and the British Isles about Emilie’s Inheritance, although Magnin completed her series long before the TV show began airing. The supernatural aspect is explained to Emilie via the diaries as she travels, and Magnin plays up the strangeness by having Emilie’s arrival in Ireland coincide with the local harvest festival, allowing for exotic illustrations. By the end more than enough mysterious events have taken place, but the assumption is of Emilie as an innocent pawn, whereas we know her career ensured she’s not as naive as others believe. Magnin plays her part in perpetuating mystery by casting doubt about what’s real and what’s a fever dream.

It’s been a heady brew so far, and more awaits in Maeve. Perhaps there the peculiar friends of Dorothy comments will be explained.