Hearts at Sea by Pedrosa

Jean-Paul is living in some minor city in France, probably near the German border. He works in his family's business - something to do with handcrafted wooden toys - and is old enough to have struck out on his own or aimed at his own goals in life. But that has not happened: he's quiet, and solidly under the (comfortable, friendly, but still smothering) guidance of his mother. His friends seem to be all connected to the business, his life is quiet and circumscribed, there's no sign he's ever had a girlfriend or lover despite endless fantasizing about a woman he meets while jogging every day.

One day he snaps, for no obvious reason. He's supposed to do yet one more thing for his mother and the business, but, instead, goes off on a cruise. It's not clear where the boat is going - my guess is out in the Atlantic, maybe to the Canaries or Azores? but it could also be the Mediterranean. It's sunny and warm, and he's part of a group of mingling singles, which he does not fit into at all.

Hearts at Sea was (Cyril) Pedrosa's first solo bande dessinee, published in 2006 after a few collaborative works and a few years in the animation mines. It's remarkably quiet and assured, entirely focused on Jean-Paul though viewing him entirely from the outside in a naturalistic way. We can assume Pedrosa sympathizes with Jean-Paul - that's why he's telling this story, right? -  but we never get into Jean-Paul's head or entirely understand him.

But then, do we ever understand anyone? I don't know if I could honest say I understand myself.

This is Jean-Paul's story, in one album-length book. It takes him from that point where he's clearly unhappy in his life, and unsure what to do, through an eventful cruise - though not eventful in any of the ways he probably fantasized or hoped for; he's not good at interacting with other people and not entirely clear on what he wants or how to get it - and to the point where he makes a major life decision at the end.

So it's a low-key story, entirely on an interpersonal level. There is some action; single cruise ships do lend themselves to some activities, particularly those fueled by intoxicants. But it's, in the end, a story about people, and mostly this one person.

Pedrosa did bigger stories after this, and became even more assured - Three Shadows, which I still think is a masterpiece, came immediately afterward - but this shows well his strengths. There's the rumpled people, the precise colors, the creased and individual faces, the occasional visionary sequences, and the deep understanding of people. It was a fine start, and it's still a fine book.