I love comics

When it comes to comics, there seem to be two kinds of people: those who get it, and those who don´t. I feel very sorry for those who don´t. I don´t know who I´d be today without Tintin, Asterix, Lucky Luke or the Phantom. Hergé probably did more for my morals than my parents and teachers did and René Goscinny taught me history. If I know a latin proverb or quote, I got it from him. 

My earliest memories of comics are when my grandfather, in his inimitable style, read Donald Duck to me and my brother. I was probably four or five years old. I can still hear his voice as he reads the giggling sounds of Huey, Dewey and Louie. As a child, I subscribed for a comic paper called "The Phantom" that also included comics like Rick O´Shay (with his memorable gunslinger friend, Hipshot Percussion) or "The Gauntlet of Faith". When I moved away from home my mother continued to subscribe and I don´t know for how long my parents kept it. Perhaps they still read it today...

And what about the adventures of Spirou, and Gaston? Or Valérian and Laureline? Yoko Tsuno? Blake and Mortimer? I can go on and on. 

In my middle age I still read my old comic books when the flu hits me. My husband collects old Donald Ducks. And I loved "From hell" by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell (the movie was nothing like it!). But mostly, there are the Swedish comics. Like "Rocky" by Martin Kellerman.  Or "Assar" (the runaway hotdog!), by Ulf Lundkvist. Or, my latest find (yes, I´m very late to it, she has been around since the 80´s, but what the heck): "Fucking Sofo" by Lena Ackebo. Fucking brilliant.

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