C. Blain, J.M. Jancovici, World Without End (2021)

I normally read graphic books in one day, but this one took me more than 2 weeks… It is huge (large format, hardcover and 200 pages)… but it is also challenging… and depressing. But a very necessary read for those interested in climate change and the impact on our lives. My best friend recommended it to me back in December, and I was not expecting to learn that much, given that we are both interested in the topic already through various means.

I like the art of Christophe Blain, who published several non-fiction (or slightly fictitious) graphic books about serious topics and places you can’t easily access: he’s well-known for Quai d’Orsay, (Weapons of Mass Diplomacy, in the English version) a thinly veiled account of the French foreign office under dashing minister Dominique de Villepin. I have also read a book, part comic, part cookbook, about famous chef Alain Passard who focuses on excellent locally-grown veggies.

This time, Christophe Blain teams up with Jean-Marc Jancovici, a famous (here) French climate and energy expert. The result is this huge book, part story of the world from the beginning to the end (with a detour on quantum physics) part manifesto on what needs to change to adapt to climate change. This was the best selling book in France for the year 2022, and I’m rather impressed by my country people for that particular choice!

This is not an easy book at all. First, it’s quite depressing. Second, it’s quite detailed, at times I felt overwhelmed by the accumulation of facts and of bad news (not a good combination). Third, it is quite polemic in what solution it advocates, because Jancovici is very clearly in favor of nuclear energy. (I’m aware there are a lot of quite, but it’s a book of superlatives)

Jancovici says that nuclear energy has been demonized and that it is nowhere as dangerous as we are told. He also explains that we have an idealized view on renewable energy (solar or wind) and that they won’t be able to replace fuel-based energy. The problem is that I’m not enough of an expert to decide, and most of the readers are the same. I find it refreshing and eye-opening to hear information that is not widely publicized, and that we can have a debate. It shows that the awareness is there already, and that’s good news.

Beyond the polemic on nuclear energy, it would be great if readers would focus on another key message which is to be frugal and moderate. Jancovici says that he sometimes treats himself to a good beef dish (blanquette de veau in French), but that’s a rare treat, and not something he indulges every day. Unfortunately it’s an inner discipline that is hard to foster and sustain. I’m sad that this past of the book might be lost in the noise, and that moderation by choice will be replaced by moderation by obligation.

The one with a Chef Extraordinaire

Christophe Blain, In the Kitchen with Alain Passard (2011)

This book is a weird crossover: part cookbook, part graphic novel. Part reverent portrait of a great chef, Alain Passard, part ironic reportage about following the chef and his assistants for 3 years and falling head over heels for his extravagance. There are recipes beginning each “chapter”, but I’m not sure if they are meant to be made at home by the reader.

Alain Passard is a French gastronomy master, but not the kind of chef that would go on TV. He’s passionate about food and creating new ways to appreciate produces, especially vegetables. He’s practically vegetarian, and keeps several gardens in France that explore old vegetables varieties and grow organically everything that will be used in Passard’s restaurants. He comes out as uncompromising about quality and technique, but as the same time a bon viveur (I love this pseudo-French)

Christophe Blain, the graphic artist, has something for great men. He’s the artist behind Quai d’Orsay, another graphic novel inspired by the memoirs of a lowly diplomat working for the Minister of Foreign Affairs. In that book, the Minister was a man bigger than life, and his assistants were fawning over him and blindly obey his whims. Passard is that kind of genius too, and nowhere is it more obvious than during a double page aside where one of Passard’s female assistant gushes over her boss with blushing cheeks as if she was in love with him.

The result is a very interesting literary and artistic experience, as Blain tries to replicate produces and techniques with his art, by showing hands and faces. His style is quite minimalist, so it’s really a challenge to represent on paper a sensory experience that was mainly based on taste (of course), smell, texture (touch), sound (the din of the kitchen, the reverent whisper of the restaurant) and only partially on sight.

But if you manage to read this book to the end without feeling hungry and wanting to try new ways to cook your usual vegetables, even if you’re not a foodie, I will be very surprised indeed!