Review by Frank Plowright
Dino Battaglia’s work is massively revered in Italy, and widely respected throughout Europe, but until now none of his projects have been translated into English. That may be because he died in 1983, long before translations of European work became commonplace, or perhaps it’s because he was only ever associated with a single series, and even then there were only two complete volumes of Inspector Coke’s investigations.
Coke is an introspective police detective who confides in his cat and works in Edwardian era London, a place, he discovers, facing seemingly supernatural threats, certainly beyond the common knowledge of the times. Battaglia has a very distinctive approach, his art avoiding sensationalism at all costs despite the possibilities his plots invoke. The result is very dry for first volume The Crimes of the Phoenix, featuring page after page of beautifully illustrated portraits occasionally interrupted by brief bursts of activity, but with the perpetrators drawn in a manner that cloaks them, whether in shadow or light. A gothic atmosphere prevails throughout, and locations and technology are evocative when supplied, but minimally used.
The Mummy and The Monster of the Thames are more confident works, less reliant on conversations, and more imaginative in staging those that do occur. Battaglia’s not above invoking cinema cliché, but makes good use of the strangeness of events and the reactions of people to them. Coke, though, remains a stoic and persistent investigator able to accept the impossible when all else has been discounted.
While grateful for Epicenter’s presenting Battaglia’s art in English, the gratitude comes with caveats. Rather than individual paperbacks, the choice is for attractively uniform hardcovers in a sturdily produced slipcase, all of which raises the cost. Whether or not that’s your preferred format comes down to opinion, but surely most wouldn’t to see several pages of adverts for other books in a premium product. By far the most irredeemable feature, though, is poor translation. This afflicts both Igor Maricic’s translation of the accompanying essays and appreciations and Vladimir Jovanovic’s work on the strips themselves where it’s a constant distraction. Here’s Coke interviewing a prostitute who’s revealed she’s been cut with a knife: “Come on. Calm down. It’s only a smear wound. A scratch. It will heal soon and no mark will be left. But let’s go back to your bad encounter: you grabbed onto his sleeve and tore off a few things that then fell to the ground”. It transmits as online translation from the original Italian, paying no attention to English speech patterns and phrasing, and similar examples blight almost every page of the first two books. There’s improvement on the third, but overall it’s downright shabby for a $60 product.
The translation intrudes so severely that it diminishes Battaglia’s work. He’s produced well paced, atmospheric and intriguing plots, and they’re torpedoed by the translation. Also unfortunate is Battaglia’s death before completing the final Inspector Coke story. Roughly half of The Monster of the Thames was written in 2019 by Beppe Vigna working from Battaglia’s notes and completed by artist Corrado Roi. While using Battaglia’s style and layout methods, Roi’s pages possess an individuality, and that’s better than a slavish imitation that isn’t quite pulled off.
Because two books are so poorly translated the overall quality doesn’t match the Italian editions, but this is still one mightily impressive artist, and his art is worth seeing. Unless Epicenter later release a new print, though, that may be difficult as only 750 copies of the slipcased edition have been produced and you have to buy it directly from them.
