King Ottokar's Sceptre (The Adventures of Tintin)

In which an escapist Ruritanian fancy turns into an ominous allegory for Nazi aggression. On one of those strolls with which Tintin often commences a new book, the reporter notices a mislaid book on a park bench. He returns it to its owner, the chain-smoking, Freud-lookalike Professor Alembick, an expert on seals (of the heraldic variety), who is about to visit the Balkan principality of Syldavia to look at some rare treasures. When Tintin notices some sinister types hanging around the Professor's apartment, and what seems to be a conspiracy plotting in a Syldavian restaurant, he decides to accompany the Professor. On the eve of their departure, a phone call to Alembick is interrupted by screams, but all seems normal as they leave for Klow, the Syldavian capital. Except that now the short-sighted academic can see sheep from thousands of feet in the air, and no longer smokes.
This extraordinary and unique entry in the Tintin canon is priceless for a number of reasons, the foremost of which is the utterly convincing creation of a non-existent realm so consistent in its internal details you can't believe it's not real. Central to this is the travel brochure Tintin reads on the plane to Klow, reproducing in three dazzling full-length pages the history, geography and culture of this great country, including the most amazing pastiche miniature illustrating a medieval battle and an account of the incident that accounts for the importance of the titular sceptre, Byzantine in their colour and beauty. Syldavia is a Ruritanian realm of benevolent monarchs, toy-soldier uniforms, quaint rituals, emblems and customs, all under threat from modernity in the shape of totalitarian imperialism. Its exotic magic is subtly prepared by the lengthy contrasting prelude in Brussels, all drab brown interrupted by the heavy black of the bungling Thom(p)sons. Herge is no sentimentalist, he is alive to the conformity and social rigidity of Syldavian society, but he is also in love with its precarious culture, its nobility and generosity, and makes us love and fear for it too.
The topography of Syldavia, with its castles, river-valleys and fir-lined mountains, and its culture, including the part-Byzantine, part-Modiligiani mural surrounding the throne room, offers unending pleasure to the eye. The action sequences, perhaps because the stakes are so high, reach an agonising pitch. Once again a story of such potential gravity is primarily driven by Snowy's appetite, his search for bones providing a feast of visual jokes. The Thom(p)sons are their usual luckless joy, this time a winking Tintin joining in with us in the laughter. Making 'Sceptre' even more perfect is the introduction of another recurring Herge character, the prima donna Signora Bianca Castafiore, that overweight interpreter of operatic waifs whose piercing voice tests even Tintin's goodwill, and prompts the exodus of animal life from forests whenever she drives by.

Every now and again you need something uncomplicated to read, and Tintin always does the job for me. King Ottakar's Sceptre would have to be my favourite.

Tintin finds a briefcase on a park bench, returns it to its rightful owner, and gets mixed up in a plot to overthrow the king of a small east European state. Who is behind the plot? Why are they after Tintin? And can Tintin warn the king in time?

I wish life was more like Tintin. I remember going to the local library when I was young and checking out Tintin books. One a week, we were allowed. They had Tintin, Asterix, and a few Lucky Lukes I think, but maybe I'm remembering that from a French exchange I did in school. I never really got into Asterix, but Tintin was different. Interesting adventures, detailed plots, cunning twists. His world is a simple place. People say what they feel. They don't play games. They don't say they're going to call and then don't. They don't leave their mobiles off when they said they would be in for you to call. If there's a problem, you know somehow you can solve it, and you don't end up feeling like you're wrong all the time. There aren't any messy work pressures, no relationship complications, no girlfriend issues, there's just a boy and his dog solving a crime. I grew up thinking things would be like that, but I was obviously wrong. I wish the world could be more like it is in the books, in basic colours and with a happy ending. But it's not. It's all grey areas and murkiness and there's not a lot you can do about it. Except read the books, and hope, and try and imagine what things would be like. So if you feel lost and alone and it's another long night and you can't get to sleep because you can't stop thinking about everything, why, what, where, when, who - then trust me. Tintin is the answer.

So begins the story of King Ottokar's Sceptre, the eighth story in the Adventures of Tintin series. One would think if one were Tintin, one would know better than to endeavor to return a lost briefcase to its owner. Although then, of course, there wouldn't be any story.

The briefcase belongs to Professor Alembick, a sigillographist (defined in the story as a collector and admirer of wax seals - I have yet to discover whether or not this is a real word). Of course, the quintessential slew of dastardly figures are immediately out to get Tintin. The eccentric sigillographist himself seems safe enough ... or IS he? ...

Eventually this adventure leads Tintin and Snowy into Syldavia (ruled by the titular king), a fictional country which was to play a prominent role in a number of later adventures. There their mission - frought with the perfunctory peril at every turn, of course - is to return the monarch's missing sceptre to him. This story is notable in that it introduces the great character of Bianca Castafiore, the world-famous opera diva who only sings one song.

The next few stories also introduce major players, and it is then that the series truly finds itself In The Zone -- perhaps not an expression Herge would have used (assuming it has a French equivalent), but personally I like to think he might have.

Reading the Tintin adventures when I was a kid changed my life. It was my first exposure to the graphic novel experience. back then you got them a chapter at a time, later in complete book form like this. They were adventure stories with exciting action, mysterious puzzles, hilarious characters, and real world concepts I could understand. I buy them now for my nieces and nephews to read when they come over, but I have to read each one again as well. I very much like this extra-large softcover edition. The art work is much better presented and you can really put you whole focus into the story. I can't afford the hardcover editions so this is the next best thing. Not a one of these is bad. I'm working on collecting them all.

I always really enjoyed this installment in the Tintin series, from the central- or maybe eastern-European location to the dry humor to the artwork! I love that Herge went to such lengths as to write a travel brochure for Tintin to read on the plane, too; very informative. Great book.

Tintin is my childhood hero and this is pure nostalgia :) As far as the book goes, the print is of high quality and the text is at a large enough font that it is easy to read.

tin tin the classic I liked the glossy paper which was not the case in old days so it is more durable

This is pretty much Tintin's last "solo" adventure - in the next book The Crab With The Golden Claws he meets Captain Archibald Haddock, and the pair are inseparable forever after. This book also has some unusual aspects - it is here that the cold war re-enters the picture, albeit several years before it officially begins; while Tintin in the Land of the Soviets dealt with the Communist menace, ensuing books dealt with more far-flung matters (India, China, the Congo, America, South America), with a hint of Nazi menace in The Black Island (the title was banned by the Nazis during their 1940-1945 occupation of Belgium); King Ottokar's Sceptre deals with the possibility of war in the Balkans, and is Herge's first book to be published under the occupation (he published six titles during these years, each of them trying to be as apolitical as possible: King Ottokar's Sceptre, The Crab With The Golden Claws, The Shooting Star, The Secret of the Unicorn, Red Rackham's Treasure and The Seven Crystal Balls).

The story starts off with Tintin befriending another eccentric professor, Hector Alembick, a world-famous sililographist. Somehow, this leads into an adventure where Tintin becomes the quarry of counter-agents from Syldavia (that is, they're Syldavian but they want to overthrow the government so that neighbouring Borduria can take them over - the referenced countries may be Romania and Bulgaria, respectively). Thompson and Thomson stage a re-appearance (where they detective-like treat Tintin with suspicion, probably the last time they behave with any sort of professionalism), someone gets amnesia (happens a lot in Tintin from this issue onward), Tintin survives a fall from a plane without a parachute, he deals with loyalists and traitors, and Bianca Castofiore makes her first appearance. Wily Tintin survives various attacks and betrayals, finally getting past the corrupt royal aid-de-camp Colonel Jorgen (who is un-named in this book, but is called Jorgen when he re-appears in Explorers on the Moon). He helps the king, he works on the case of the missing sceptre, he does another border run (viz The Broken Ear), he steals another plane (viz The Black Island, sorta), and the story ends happily ever after.

My grand kids liked it, even tough its a little old.

Another great story by Tintin, this way in Central Europe. Good entertaining story and lot where we meet Bianca Castafiore for the first time.

I always liked this book in particular as it reminded me of the Prisoner of Zenda, I also like how the author creates two countries and their history to develop a nice plot. It's always great to read these books again.

A total pleasure for all ages.