"The Fantastic Adventures of Marco Polo"

You may have heard of this story, sort of: Scarpa mentions it in an interview that was published along with the US printing of "The Blot's Double Mystery."  Specifically, there is this exchange:

It seems that this and other stories you have written and/or drawn have been influenced by American film noir…

Positively.  I have often been inspired by that kind of movie.  I have always been fond of the cinema.  In a story I did a few years ago, where Donald Duck and many other characters interpreted the cast of Marco Polo, I inserted memories of Gary Cooper's interpretation of the character, and in one panel I even used a take from John Ford's Stagecoach.

So…now you know.  Tragically, I have not seen either of the movies in question (I know, I know; Stagecoach is a classic, or so sez everyone).  The Cooper vehicle DOES seem like a good movie to watch if you want to see white people playing Mongols!  So there's that.  But anyway.  If you read that and vaguely wondered what the story in question was about--well, this is it.

I made an English version of it.  If you want, you can download it before reading the rest of this entry.

And guess what: I recommend reading it.  'Cause it's solid stuff.  It's written by Guido Martina, and it has definite similarities to "Master McDucato," and HEY!  GET BACK HERE!  No, I swear!  It's a LOT better!  What it has in common with that story is that it's a lengthy picaresque with a lot of fairly low-key incident, but it lacks that other story's bizarre quasi-educational element, and it has a real sense of epic grandeur, helped by Scarpa's excellent artwork.  You don't wanna miss it.

Well, probably you don't.  I'll allow that it's not perfect.  The biggest problem that you may have with it is that the connection between the characters in the Marco Polo story and the ducks who play them is, while not entirely absent, extremely tenuous.  Also, the present-day framing segments are, uh, kinda weird, in a way that may or may not work for you.  And, of course, there are individual plot bits here and there that are problematic, which I will of course point out.  On the whole, though, it may not quite deserve its inducks top-100 status (#97 as of this writing), but if a story of this type is going to be up there, better this than "McDucato" by a long shot.

I'd say that my script is probably a little more restrained than past efforts, but it still includes plenty of silliness.  Thing is, I don't know if this is a reflection of the original Italian, but the French script is really intensely functional--there's not much of an effort being made to add color to the proceedings.  So, it was necessary to to something about that.  Pretty much the usual thing, I suppose.  For whatever reason, this project felt way more time-consuming than the others I've undertaken--probably because, while it's shorter all-told than "McDucato," it's not divided into distinct chapters (at least, not in this four-tiered version).  And it is twice as long as "Faustus."

Note Clara Cluck standing in the background there for no reason.  She sorta hovers around on the periphery while contributing absolutely nothing to the story.  It's really weird.  There's something similar in Scarpa's Robin Hood story, where she just appears in one panel, does nothing, and then is gone.  Was Scarpa just a huge closet Clara fan for some inscrutable reason?

There's this framing device where they're trying to get this TV show off the ground.  As far as these things go, I suppose it's marginally more sensible than a weird historical travelogue about Tuscany, but…not that much more so.  We also see here the beginnings of Scrooge's insanely counterproductive cheapness, which will become a running theme.  What???  You need ACTORS for a TV show?!?  Man, THAT one came out of left field.

This story doesn't have as many blatant historical errors as "McDucato," but it does have some, starting with the fact that in the French version (and, presumably, in the original Italian), the names of Marco's father and uncle were reversed, so Scrooge was Niccolò, and Ludwig was Maffeo.  The last thing I need is enraged Marco Polo fanboys on my ass, so I fixed it.

That is indeed what "The Million" refers to, referring to the belief that Marco was lying his ass off about this stuff, which I gather is still a matter of controversy.  That could've been an opportunity for some interesting ontological questioning of this whole narrative, but the story never goes there.  

Things get off to a bit of a slow start, with this business where everyone refuses to believe our heroes are the REAL Polos.  I played up the ridiculous faux-melodrama, because what else can you do?

"Pietro"--as you've noticed if you've read the story, the business with their guide (played by an Orientalized version of Fethry) is really inconsistent.  In the French version, Marco doesn't even refer to him by name here, making things even more confusing.  The thing is, he just vanishes for significant parts of the story when he's clearly supposed to be present.  It's really disorienting, especially when you don't know who he is or what he's even supposed to be doing when he is there.  I specified that he's only "Half-Mongol" to make it somewhat more plausible that he could be named "Pietro."

This whole "Noah's Ark" section is interesting just because, as has been noted, overt religious themes are generally not a Disney-comic thing, for obvious reasons.  Not that this is particularly religious, but the characters do find Noah's Ark.  A thing like that!

One might object that this sequence is pointless, but this story lives or dies on the accretion of an epic sense of scope out of these smaller episodes.  In that sense, I think it's okay.

Ah, yes…there are three points where Scrooge breaks in to complain about how expensive this is going to be, neatly dividing the story neatly into four parts, which is how it was originally published (in three-tiered format, natch) in Topolino.  

Now, of course, Scrooge's behavior is often penny-wise/pound-foolish to the extent that it's difficult to see how he could possibly have ever accrued such a fortune, but I've never seen that go any further than it does here, where he completely axes the first three episodes in the name of saving money.  Of course, it's basically a joke, but it kinda makes it seem like he's is sliding from "miserly" to "mentally deficient."  Well, that's ol' Guido for you!

And here's another place that's sort of dubious from a contemporary perspective: it is, I suppose, possible or likely that the Polos would've had no particular moral qualms about slavery, but look, these people are supposed to be likable to us, and disregarding the slaves in order to pretty blatantly steal jewels?  Huh.  I don't know about this Martina person.  I really don't.

An' if anyone doubts that it is sometimes very necessary to embellish scripts, note that in the French version, those speech bubbles say "See those cows?" "And those sheep?" and "and those enormous donkeys?"  What…so we're in kindergarten now?  Yeesh.

Scarpa consistently does these sweeping landscapes really effectively, which is good, because it's what the story needs to be what it wants to be.

Let it also be noted that at various points, I consulted the actual Travels of Marco Polo for names and things.  Here, f'rinstance.  King Nogodar is a real figure mentioned in the Travels, but in the French version, his men are referred to as the "Ischerans."  Who the fuck are the Ischerans?  Well, google will not tell you.  I can only assume that Martina pulled that name out of his ass, which makes all the less sense when you learn that these guys did have an actual, honest-to-goodness name that is mentioned in the text.  Strange stuff.

"Hey, Turkeys are a new-world bird!  Blah blah blah I'm so smart!"  Shut up!

This unfortunate bird was actually referred to as a duck in the French, but even though there's Barksian precedent for this sort of thing, it just seemed a bit much to me, and I ask you: how many other birds can you think of that look like that?  It just seemed like there was so much Disney precedent for turkey being the roast bird of choice that I flippin' well went for it.  Blame it on poor research on Mickey's part if you want.

Can't claim that the "mirages" segment is terribly original, but give the story credit for putting our heroes in some of the mortal-est danger you'll ever see in a Disney comic.  And, again, at least it looks good--although someone's going to have to explain to me what that thing that the boater hat's sitting on is supposed to be.

Not to harp on the theme too much, but doesn't that landscape there look good?  In a very appropriately Chinese sort of way?  It's things like this that initially enchanted me about this story.

And THIS--jeez.  I don't know what else to say.  'Course, the coloring ain't half bad, either.  Credit where due.

Ah, Kublai Khan.  I tried to play up his child-like nature in the translation.  I'm not sure if that's how we're meant to see him, but it's certainly how he comes across.  This right here with the jewel is a pretty funny joke, I think.

I…am sort of at a loss re these "Tablets of Power."  MP's Travels do make mention of tablets that Kublai would give to his messengers to authorize them to act on his behalf, but nothing, obviously, like these, which appear to be…actual magic?  It's hard to say.

And now, we reach our absolute zero of solipsism, as I use the same fake-Italian name for the Little Booneheads that I made up for "The Dungeon Tower."  Yes!

"Rock-ai?"  Yeah, it's hard to say what a good Chinese-sounding name would be for Rockerduck.  He's called "Flairor" in French (his regular name being "Flairsou," to contrast with "Picsou").  This is what I went with, somewhat arbitrarily.

(The idea being, of course, that this is where Rock-ai has taken the stuff.)

Again, nice art.  Brilliantly enough, the French version variously calls this place "Saianfu," "Saingfu," "Saïangfu," and "Saîangfu."  I wouldn't swear to this, but I sorta kinda think what they might be going for is what we would most likely think of as "Xanadu," where Alph the mighty river ran through caverns measureless to man.  But it's hard to be sure, and in any case, the real Xanadu was Kublai's summer palace, so it just seems to be confusing matters to decide that it's actually this place.  

Again: Kaidu's daughter was named "Maigèrh" in French, but Khutulun is actually a real historical figure.  Apparently, she would wrestle with prospective husbands, and when she won they'd have to give her a hundred cattle.  Ultimately--again, per Wikipedia--she scored ten thousand cattle this way, which is a pretty sweet deal for sure.

Do you think it's odd that Trudy is playing Pete's daughter here?  Well, wikipedia sez that "the people alleged that she maintained an incestuous relationship with her father," so there's that--though it sure sounds to me like "the people" were just being dicks because they were unnerved by the idea of a strong woman who didn't want to get married.

Also worth noting: in real life, Kaidu was Kublai's nephew.  But given the species difference, that didn't seem like it would be such a great idea here.

The Khan's daughter is, once again, an actual person, named Cocachin (spelling may vary according to system of Romanization), but for some reason the French refers to her as "Minh-Ouch."  Yeah, ya got me.  And as far as cartoon ducks go: not bad-looking at all, I must say!  In the French, she's called his niece, but she was his daughter.

If you think the above panels are cool in and of themselves, you may like this story.  If not, perhaps not.  I sure do.

This narrated montage sequence is really good for showing the passage of time.  It's little things like this that all add up to make this story really work for me.

This business is apparently historically accurate, at least according to Marco himself: as far as I know, there's no indication that there was romantic tension between him and the princess, but she really went off to Persia to marry the king, only to be compelled to turn back due to civil war, at which point the Khan determined that a sea voyage would be best, and sent the Polos--whom he'd previously refused to let leave--to go with her.  And if you find this history lesson super-boring, this may not be the blog entry for you.

This little romantic drama is to be admired for its compactness, I think.  To me, it inspires real pathos, though it must be admitted that I changed it a little: see, in the French version, Marco's just like "oh no, I can't go off with her; if I did that, I would be betraying the Khan's trust!"  Now, this may well be an accurate summation of what someone in his situation would've thought at this historical juncture, but it's really kind of the most patriarchal thing ever, isn't it?  "Oh no--if I allow her to have personal autonomy, it will violate the manly bonds of friendship I have with the Khan!"  Her feelings are sacrificed in the name of…well, not much of anything, really.  And if we're supposed to sympathize with Marco, as we are, this is a bit much to take.  So, I pushed it a little: we may not like the way these power structures work, but we can accept that they do, and that going against them like this very likely would cause a major diplomatic incident.  Thus, our young lovers are victims of the system, rather than being complicit in it.  

That works better, for me--which is good, because this is not an emotional dynamic that one sees much of in Disney comics, which I like.

…but seriously, I don't know what the deal is with this.  The Polos escape their predicament by purest deus ex machina here.  I mean, it is, I suppose, meant to represent the awesomeness of Marco Polo, but…given that this is the final action in the story, you might hope for a bit more.

As for the ending ending…well, it's a typical sort of thing, for better or for worse.  The French version is kind of dumb, because there, Scrooge suggest that Brigitta should be in it, but before he even says who she should play, Daisy flies off the handle, which is really just bizarre, because A) why would she possibly assume that Brigitta would play Cocachin, a part for which she is obviously too old?; and B) since when does Brigitta of all people inspire sexual jealousy in Daisy?  Bah.  So anyway, I did my best to make it less dumb, though it has to be allowed that it's still a little dumb.

So, there you have it.  I realize that this story is very open to criticism, but I can't help kinda loving it.  From the first time I read it, I knew that I would have no choice but to English-ize it.  This is a kind of story that has literally never been published in the US; you can see why, but it's still very much worthy of consideration.  Um…download it today!  I don't know what else to say.