Hi Yves,
Many American superheroes are portrayed as “lone rangers,” which makes Jeremiah stand out. Jeremiah and Kurdy are truly “brothers in arms”—not just allies, but partners whose bond deepens over time. It’s fascinating to watch their personalities evolve and reflect off each other, while each remains distinct and independent.
I love how Kurdy acts like a “big brother” to Jeremiah in the first volume—guiding him, watching out for him. But as the series progresses, Kurdy becomes more than just an equal friend. There’s a quiet shift: Jeremiah begins to look out for Kurdy too, in his own way. Their relationship grows not through dramatic changes, but through subtle, mutual care.
Their way of working together shows us what real teamwork can look like. Jeremiah and Kurdy have no “superpowers,” yet with their wits and compassion, they manage to make the world a little better. And that’s the kind of encouragement we need in today’s world.
With admiration,
@vnfire I'm not sure Kurdy was that kind to Jeremiah. But I agree that it was the beginning of a friendship, however shaky it may have been at first.
And it's indeed interesting to note that their personalities tend to converge: over time, Jeremiah becomes (to a certain extent) like Kurdy. He's less of a thug but gradually loses his innocence.
About their partnership, I can only say it's something very common in European comics. Most of the popular series protagonists are duos such as Tintin and Captain Haddock, Spirou and Fantasio, Asterix and Obelix (I don't know if those names ring a bell to you). In his early series, Hermann (with Greg as a scenarist) used the same recipe: Bernard Prince and Barney Jordan, Red Dust and Comanche. So did he in his own series Jeremiah.
Dear Yves,
Thank you very much for your thoughtful response. You've opened three fascinating topics:
(1) Who is Kurdy?
(2) How does Jeremiah evolve?
(3) What is the nature of their interaction?
I first discovered the Jeremiah series through Volume 1, and what struck me most was, of course, Kurdy!
Back then, Jeremiah was just a simple peasant boy with a quiet desire to return to his people. In contrast, Kurdy had left the “Fat Eye” gang and made a conscious decision to fight back. His wit, courage, and versatility—disguising himself as a woman, handling guns and bows, using clever tactics—made him a compelling hero. And Hermann’s vivid illustrations of Kurdy only deepen that impression.
When I said Kurdy acted like a “big brother” to Jeremiah, it’s because the story itself suggests it. Let’s revisit a few key scenes:
Page 10 – Kurdy sleeps with his gun in hand, alert and guarded. Meanwhile, Jeremiah sleeps unconsciously, covered with a blanket, another one tucked under his head. Kurdy quietly takes care of this unknown boy! It’s a small gesture, but does it speak of instinctive protection?
Page 22 – One of the Fat Eye gang members exclaims, “Kurdy! It ain’t like you!” Has Kurdy ever protected anyone before? This line hints at a shift—a moment where he begins to act against his usual self.
Also on the same page, when Jeremiah echoes the question—“Kurdy! It ain’t like you!”—Kurdy snaps: “Shut up! I just did something stupid!”
Why stupid? Kurdy is trying to avoid Fat Eye, and by protecting Jeremiah, does he put himself in danger? That outburst feels like a crack in his armor—anger mixed with fear? Does Kurdy avoid looking at Jeremiah or looking at himself?
Page 24 – Kurdy cooks soup instead of ordering food (the image is so vivid you can almost smell the warmth). This is a soothing gesture for a shaken Jeremiah. Then Kurdy consoles him: “No use crying over spilled milk.” Before heading out, he gives a firm warning: “Meanwhile, Jeremiah, STAY PUT! Is that clear?”
Doesn’t he sound like a protective older brother here?
Maybe not! Kurdy suddenly calms down—not because of Jeremiah, but because he realizes something deeper: He’d rather confront Fat Eye than keep running for the rest of his life. “And get shot in the back some day when we least expect it? That ain't my style!” (Don't we all love Kurdy for this?)
But… when Jeremiah gets caught, Kurdy is forced into a hard decision—one that shifts the story’s emotional weight.
Page 34 – Kurdy asks himself: “What the hell am I doing? Why should I give a shit about that yokel? And why?…”
Yes—why?
It’s not just Kurdy’s question, but ours as readers as well. What makes a cold-hearted opportunist begin to sacrifice himself? The answer isn’t given directly, but it’s felt in every gesture, every hesitation.
And last but not least – Kurdy orders the revolting crowd to cover him as he runs into the Fat Eye tower—alone!
Why alone?
Could it be that he wanted to prevent Jeremiah from getting caught between two enemies?
This moment feels like more than bravery—it’s a tactical choice, and perhaps a protective one?
Taken together, these scenes form a subtle emotional arc. Kurdy begins as a lone fighter, but something in Jeremiah—his vulnerability, his quiet dignity—awakens a protective instinct?
I’ve reread this first volume countless times! Monsieur Hermann makes Kurdy such a compelling figure (Page 40 is a gem!). Every line, every pose, every glance carries weight. He’s rough, unpredictable, but unforgettable.
***
As for topics (2) and (3), I’ll return to them soon—they’re the heart of why this series means so much to me.
With admiration,
