Chapter 4 another Dutch-Iligh connection

In Chapter 4 of 'The Tears of Iligh' Aicha introduces another connection with Holland. Aisha tells about the secret documents both in Arabic and Hebrew and both on paper and parchment and how in 1982 a Moroccan scientist Paul Pascon was allowed to look into some of the documents. He had won the trust of the family. He wrote a study about the economical history of the small realm of Iligh. To him it was special for several reasons and he wanted to come back and write more and even start digging in the ruins that surround the Casbahs. Unfortunately Paul Pascon had died in a road accident in 1985. Some people thought it suspicious how he had died. Aisha then remembered there had been Dutch among the students who had done research with Paul Pascon in Iligh. She couldn't remember their names however. Back in Amsterdam Bert was on the internet again. She found the study: La Maison d'Iligh. It was out of print. One of the names listed on the cover was Herman van der Wüsten. That sounded Dutch. He was a retired professor and so was the other Dutchman Paolo de Mas. In contrast to Van der Wüsten, Paolo de Mas had kept up an interest in Morocco. Het had been director of the Dutch Institute in Morocco and had written a book about its history with another Dutchman. In 2011 he had been back to Iligh with a TV crew. Paolo de Mas proved helpful and a source of information even though it was given in fits and bounds. It had been 25 years since any outsider had had access to the archives of the family. At last meeting Aisha again now in the company of Peti Buchel the artist of graphic stories in Agadir, she promised that her father would not only receive them, but also give them access to the archives of Iligh. There was one catch, the two had to promise to bring Iligh again under the attention of the academics. The sketch is made after a photo depicting Paolo de Mas in 1984 in the company of a then young scion of the Aboudmiaa family, Hamdi.

From paper to tablet

Graphic Stories were designed and executed on paper. First came the story (typed or handwritten). Then paper was cut to the size of twice the page. With a pencil a template of frames was composed. Next the action and text was drawn also in pencil. Changes could be made by applying an eraser. When satisfied with the pencil sketch the pen and ink came out. In my case a pen that I dipped in a pot of Indian Ink. If a mistake was made white paint was painted over the black ink to blot out the offending bit. If the mistake was of major proportions the scissor came out to cut away the botched up frame(s). The new frames were then drawn on a separate piece of paper and fitted in the hole with the use of glue. Colour was added on a different piece of paper that was put over the original drawing that was put on a light box. Grey shading came from prefab sticky screens of dots. The same applied for stick-on fonts. A screen with dots of the desired density was put over the drawing (on the light box) and cut to size with a surgical knife and then stuck on. It had all to do with how the end product was processed at the print works. It was labour intensive to say the least. If you think I learned these procedures at the college of art, you're wrong. Graphic stories were not seen as art and therefore not taught. I taught myself after I left school, talking to friends and by browsing through shops specialized in artists materials. This way of making graphic stories came to an end with the introduction of the personal computer.

The little matter of lettering

The written text in a graphic story is often as important as the images. It is expected that the graphic artist also has a good hand in writing out the letters of the text. Not me! I was never any good at lettering. I was so bad that the publisher of 'Moord in Iran', my graphic novel set in Iran decided to hire somebody to write the text into the balloons and frames. Unfortunately his style of lettering didn't correspond with my style of drawing at all. It was a hard lesson. No more pussy-footing. From then on I taught myself to write well. In the 20 or so years I worked as a cartoonist I did a lot of lettering. It became second nature to me. However after I was 65 I noticed that my lettering became more shaky. All my life my hand had had these funny little spastic jerks and trembles. For and outsider it often looked horrifying to see me DIY-ing. On paper I had never trouble drawing a straight clear line. But after a certain age the jerks and trembles also started to appear on paper. In particular in my lettering. As a cartoonist I would draw straight on paper, scan it and if necessary work it out in Photoshop on the computer. Actually more and more of the actual work was done on the computer. Why not have a font made of my own lettering? There is software you can download for free that makes a Font out of your writing. You print out a template and draw in with a marker the alphabet. Not me. I couldn't get my jerky, shaky hand to write into the small frames on the template. The letters were all over the place. I had to hire somebody to make a font out of my lettering. It didn't come cheap, but it was just in the nick of time.