In a post apocalyptic world, man is destined to meet Atila, a young and beautiful woman. Segura & Ortiz bring us this story of darkeness and destruction.
Antonio Segura Cervera fue un guionista de historietas valenciano que comenzó a trabajar en el medio en los años 80s.
Escribió obras para grandes autores españoles, muchos de la comunidad murciana (Bermejo, Ortiz, Leopoldo Sánchez) o valenciana (Miralles), dando lo mejor de sí mismo en series como Hombre, Bogey, Kraken, Sarvan (éstas, con Bernet), Burton y Cyb, Juan el Largo, Eva Medusa y otras. A partir de 1997 colaboró con la editorial italiana Sergio Bonelli en series como Tex o Magico Vento, a menudo acompañado de Ortiz.
Hombre fits in with a certain mode of dark anti-hero stories that were coming out of European comics starting in the sixties and coming to a climax in the eighties with Metal Hurtlant, 2000AD, and other anthologies. The world is a deadly place where life has little value, and our emotionally distant hero does everything he can to survive, even as his friends and loves die around him.
Hombre is coming out of the same backlash against idealism that produced Yojimbo, the Spaghetti Westerns, and Revenge Films. It's ironic that this backlash has become, in recent years, idealized in itself, as we can see from so many cliche treatments of the same violent, isolated men.
But Hombre is not without a sense of self-awareness. Our hero constantly strives to be an island, separate from the world, claiming he cares nothing for the lives of those around him, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself thrown in with people who he grows to grudgingly respect, or even to love.
He tries to protect these people, but in the end, he always ends up alone again. The repetitive nature of the story allows the character to maintain his identity as the gruff loner, resetting at the end like a sit com, but this doesn't really hurt the book.
Each story is a separate entity, exploring different ideas and relationships. They are self-contained (which is important for a comic appearing in anthologies), but taken together, they produce a grander arc.
The whole thing is very Howardian: we have our dark hero, always surviving, like Conan, in a series of thinly related episodes across his entire life, painting a picture of the man, his world, and his experiences. There is also the touch of chauvinism, and though this isn't an erotic comic, it does deal with sex and nudity with more aplomb than an American might, and there is a consistent worship of the feminine form.
It can get a bit silly, with all the toplessness and women caught bathing, but it's not entirely one-sided: there are naked men, too. One problem is that the men are usually drawn with a lot of character, while the women tend to look rather similar (though this improves in later issues).
There are also occasional reversals in the portrayal of female sexuality, so that women are often stronger than the men give them credit for, and almost always find the main character's sense of 'chivalry' insulting. It's usually clear that the protagonist is not a role model, and we are not meant to sympathize with his views.
But there was a certain lasciviousness in the way comic portrayed women, and though the storytelling, characterization, and art tended to deserve four stars, I'd take the rating down when the lecherousness was played too straight.
The art really is lovely, though. It's vibrant, well-inked, and captures the world very well. The characters feel very human and dirty, and on the whole, the words and images compliment one another very well.
Between the strong, evocative art, the amoral (yet heroic) main character, and the deconstruction of the Western, the comic rather reminded me of my favorite title, Blueberry. However, Hombre is less varied; it doesn't depict the same range of emotions and moods, nor the complexity of plot, nor does the main character change over the course of the series.
But then, these are all things one would expect from a collection of short, serialized stories. Hombre knows what it is, and it delivers on it's premise, with great art, strong storytelling, and its saving grace: a sense of irony. All in all, it's exactly the sort of story you expect from a mature European anthology, and that's the reason we keep buying them.
I love Post-apocalyptic stories, and I especially like ones that aren't the run-of-the-mill post-nuclear cold war story - something different. The world of Hombre, the main anti-hero of this book, has been devastated for some reason (this is book five so it isn't explained, sounds like social collapse they way it is discussed) and he travels around as a lone survivor much in the same way Max does in the Mad Max series. This world is basically like the American old west - full of lawlessness and hardship as well as horses. This particular volume opens with Hombre trying to live a normal life, when a group of evil men rip that from his arms. He meets up with a young Barbarian girl named Attila that shares his common goal of revenge against said man - but she makes him realize how dark he has truly become.
Hombre was a Spanish comics series written by Antonio Segura and drawn by José Ortiz, first published in 1981 in the magazine Cimoc. This translation was run in Heavy Metal magazine at some point in the 1980's and contains many of the trappings of many adult comics including gratuitous naked women. This isn't a bad thing, but I wanted to point this out in case somebody rolls in assuming this is a wholesome book or something.