Private detective Fernández Britten is an old hand at confirming the dark suspicions of jealous lovers and exposing ugly truths of all varieties. Battered by years of bearing ill tidings, he clings to the hope of revealing, just once, a truth that will do some good in the world. It is a redemption that has long eluded him.
Then Britten and his unconventional partner, Brülightly, take on the mysterious death of Berni Kudos. The official verdict is suicide, but Berni’s fiancée is convinced that the reality is something more sinister. Blackmail, revenge, murder: each new revelation stirs up the muddy waters of painful family secrets, and each fresh twist takes the partners further from Britten’s longed-for salvation. Doing good in the world, he discovers, may have more to do with silence than truth.
When one thinks of modern crime comics, specifically the art, there is probably one word that never comes to mind. Lush. Yet I can think of no other word to describe the art of Britten and Brulightly. In fact, it might be the rare crime comic in which one talks about the art first and the story second instead of the other way around. But there is no better place to start.
The master that this art serves isn’t style, at least not in the way that other Frank Miller-inspired art does, but rather atmosphere. The world of Britten and Brulightly exudes atmosphere. On the many rain-filled panels, you will at least once be certain that your fingers are going to come away wet.
The use of secondary materials as a device in Britten and Brulightly, such as case files, notes, and a personal, handwritten diary, shape the story and add a depth to the story in a way that other crime comics can’t come close to. There is almost a secondary world quality to it.
The past of the main character is alluded to but kept from the reader, as its reveal wouldn’t serve the story, though the reader is left to wonder. One of his quirks is revealed in the identity of his partner, Brulightly. If this odd coping strategy is indicative of his mental state, then perhaps he’s not as well off as he appears to be on the surface.
The book ends with the line “But at least I have saved one person from the truth.” It almost flies in the face of the idea of order over chaos and the prevailing of justice that many proclaim to be the backbone of the mystery genre, and it does so in a way that only a good noir can.
Britten and Brulightly is a deeply moving and richly rewarding experience that all mystery, crime, and comic readers should make time for.
