So maybe the way I lead off is by admitting there are a lot of silly names in Asterix, Vol. 1, the recent (2021) US omnibus of René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo's first three bandee dessinée of that series. Roman camps called Laudanum and Aquarium, major leaders named Vitalstatistix and Marcus Dontmesswithus, Goths named Rhetoric and Lyric and Satiric - that kind of thing.
They're amusing funny names: they work on the level they're aiming for. But a book that starts off with funny names for humor is not going to get sophisticated - it's going to be slapstick and alarums and goofy misunderstandings and a whole lot of stylized, punch-em-up, nobody-really-gets-hurt violence.
It's somewhat classier than the US version of that kind of comedy might be - I tend to think the US jumps right into stoopid humor like the Three Stooges when it descends to slapstick, and Asterix has more thing-everyone-knows-from-history jokes. Well, it would, wouldn't it?
Anyway, let me explain the set-up, for anyone unfamiliar: Asterix is the little guy on the cover. He's a Gaul, in 50 BC, living in the one small plucky village in Gaul (modern France, more or less) that was not conquered by the Romans. Roman camps circle that village; they have not given up. But the Gauls, our heroes, are smarter and sneakier and have powerful magic and are the protagonists, so they will always win. In particular, druid Panoramix makes a magic potion that gives drinkers super-strength, which Asterix (and probably others) use to beat up Roman patrols on the regular.
Gauls are plucky and have names that end with X. Romans are stern (if leaders) and vaguely cowardly and work-avoidant (if legionnaires) and have names that end with "us". There are some Goth (German) stereotypes later, and some people who seem to be Italian (I guess civilians and not from Rome itself) as well. I expect, as the series went on, we got Britons and Poles and Turks and who knows what else, with their characteristic foibles and quirky names, and that they were all always bested by our heroic Gauls.
The three books here originally appeared in French in the early 1960s, and have been translated by Joe Johnson for the 21st century in language that keeps the goofy, kid-friendly, mid-century tone of the originals. (Note my massive assumption there; I don't read French and have never seen "the originals" as such.)
First up is Asterix the Gaul, which sets it all up: small village, Romans circling, trying to find out why the Gauls have been able to hold out, that whole thing. A Roman soldier (Caligula Minus, aka Caliguliminix) infiltrates the village, learns about the potion and runs back to his centurion, Crismus Bonus. So the Romans capture Panoramix, to get the secret of the potion, but Asterix also gets himself captured and the two Gauls outwit the Romans repeatedly before finally "escaping" just as Julius Caesar himself shows up for the big ending.
Asterix and the Golden Sickle sees Asterix and his buddy Obelix (the usual giant soft-hearted guy, who has permanent super-strength from being dipped in the potion as an infant) heading to Lutetia to get Panoramix a new golden sickle from Mettallurgix. Of course it's not that simple: there are bandits and Romans and a sickle-market-control scheme, among other things. Asterix and Obelix are imprisoned multiple times, breaking out each time as soon as it's funniest. Obviously, by the end, they get the sickle they need, foil the bad guys and get Metallurgix back to his shop.
And then there's Asterix and the Goths, which also centers on Panoramix getting kidnapped, which seems like a weird thing to become a standard plot this early. He goes to the annual gathering of druids, yadda yadda yadda, and is dragged over the border by Goths who want to invade and were looking for a secret weapon to help them do that. Asterix and Obelix give chase, getting tangled with Goths and Romans and bandits along the way, before fomenting a massive all-against-all power struggle among the Goths and returning triumphantly with Panoramix.
Again, these are stories originally made for maybe middle-grade kids: quick, fun, with lots of appropriate jokes and physical comedy, set in a vaguely familiar historical milieu. They come across as slightly more highbrow to Americans, especially three generations later, than I think they did to the original audience. The current editions are a decent size, though smaller than the original album format - and I do think books like this, full of small panels and lots of dialogue, are best read at their original size. And, of course, if you like this one, there are a lot more - I think Asterix #40 was recently published, by a new generation of creators.
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