Havana Split Vol. 1, Graphic Novel

At this point, it seems pretty clear Edmund Burke was right to caution restraint when it comes to Revolutions. Aside from the Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution, every revolution since the American Revolution has brought even greater suffering and oppression than the people endured under the prior regime. Look at the Iranian, French, and Cuban Revolutions. Yet, activists and college kids still think it is cool to be a revolutionary. Cuba is a perfect case in point, but this graphic novel ignores all the future censorship, imprisonment, and torture. Instead, Brremaud largely tells a cynical gangster story in Havana Split, Volume 1, illustrated by Vic Macioci, which goes on-sale tomorrow.

Apparently, the CIA kicked John Botia to the curb, because he was too violent. Nevertheless, he is one of the good guys. Since then, he has worked for Arnaldo Valdes’s sleazy detective agency, reluctantly partnering with slimy Jose Cojones, who makes it even sleazier. Valdes’s daughter Lily Turner left them because of their seediness, but she returns after her mother’s death, having tired of her step-father, for undisclosed reasons.

It turns out to be a heck of time to visit—and not just because of the ruthless Communist guerillas in the jungle. Using a gambling debt as a pretext, gangster Don Alfonso kidnaps Valdes, demanding Botia and Cojones abduct his rival’s lover, in exchange. Ordinarily, “The Ambassador” is nobody to trifle with, but his irrational love for the starlet Concepcion has become a clear liability, which Don Alfonso intends to exploit.

The gangster versus gangster skullduggery is reasonably amusing, but Brremaud constantly undermines the good will with kneejerk anti-Americanism. It is particular insulting to the memories of the 141 fallen CIA officers, who are commemorated with a star on the Agency’s Memorial Wall. Basically, this graphic novel accuses the agency of mass murder, just to appeal to some readers’ biases. That’s pretty irresponsible (especially since there is not a single word of implied criticism of Castro and the horrors to come).

It is a shame, because Macioci’s art nicely evokes the hip, sophisticated vibe of 1950s Havana. Rather ironically, they also include the great Cecilia Cruz in a scene, because Castro loved her music, but she despised the dictator and mourned the pain he inflicted on her nation.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the most interesting characters are the gangsters, the Ambassador and Don Alfonso, because they do not need to serve as ideological proxies. In fact, Botia’s estrangement from the CIA seems rather baffling, since he is not exactly presented as a paragon of principle.

Arguably, the smartest, shrewdest sequence of Havana Split comes when another gangster assures Botia’s former CIA colleague that he is willing to work with Castro, mistakenly believing that is what the Agency wanted. It is incredibly dangerous to send mixed signals on foreign policy issues—and we did that with Cuba. That is one lesson to take from the graphic novel. However, its extreme ideological messaging constantly overshadows the story and kills the fun. Not recommended, Havana Split releases tomorrow (9/22) at book and comic retailers.