He is without a doubt the most French of American cartoonists. Some even call him “the Edward Hopper of the ninth art”. Before diving into comics, Miles Hyman long used his elegant lines, his bright colors, without forgetting his cinematographic framing, to place his drawings in the press. His sumptuous illustrations have also been popular in publishing and advertising.

Over the years, his notoriety grew, and he even exhibited his personal work in turn in art galleries in New York and Paris. After having masterfully adapted The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy into a comic strip with the help of Matz and David Fincher, this complete author was offered by Guillaume Musso himself the transposition of his novel The Secret Life of Writers. An arduous bet that he won hands down, after two and a half years of intense work, and a touch of pictorial and cinematographic magic… that neither Hitchcock nor Hopper would have denied.

LE FIGARO. – What was the trigger that led to this adaptation?

Miles HYMAN. – First of all, I received an email from Guillaume Musso in my mailbox. He had just read my album La Loterie which he liked. He found that The Lives of Writers could lend itself perfectly to a graphic transposition, like a mixture of Hitchcock and Hopper. It was during the first confinement. A few days later, I received the novel in the mail. I read it in one go and discovered that this thrilling book was very rich in images. I immediately felt that there was vast graphic potential.

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What did you like about The Secret Life of Writers?

It is a dense novel, rich in atmosphere and suspense, full of false leads, with many stories that intertwine with each other. Some sequences are very visual. I told myself that the challenge was going to be great, but that I had to make it one of my most personal albums.

What were the main axes of your transposition into comics?

I first noticed that there were many factors in Guillaume Musso’s writing that put the reader at ease. Notations around football, cooking, wine, everyday things, which form a set of friendly elements that I had to try to recreate in drawings. Musso’s story is similar to a double revolution staircase system like that of the Château de Chambord. One plot hides another. To fully adopt the text, I had to make it all my own, to respect its delicate mechanics. In the plot, softness and hardness intertwine. It is a novel that is both dark and sunny. I accepted this danger…

What are you afraid of?

As someone who is used to drawing eras such as the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s, I found myself at the heart of a detective story set in a more contemporary world. It was a first for me. But, quickly, I realized that I was not stuck in this or that era. It was a joy for me to fully immerse myself in a modern-day storyline, with cell phones and social media. I found it very refreshing. For the record, in the text, I discovered that the writer Nathan Fawles’ typewriter was an Olivetti Lettera 32. I have also had this machine since the 1970s, and it still sits somewhere in my workshop.

How did you appropriate the characters in the novel?

I made a lot of sketches, many sketches, but without taking inspiration from a particular person. I knew that the protagonists had to be multi-faceted. A bit like in the finale of the film The Lady from Shanghai by Orson Welles when the heroes find themselves in the hall of mirrors. We no longer know where reality is and where illusion is. Like this palace of mirrors, the novel plays with the potential duplicity of each character.

How did you go about recreating Beaumont Island?

To imagine this imaginary island, I first used Guillaume’s numerous descriptions. He created this island as a mix between Porquerolles, the Greek island of Hydra and some islands on the American east coast like Martha’s Vineyard, a place I frequented when my father took me on vacation during my high school years. I appreciate the island spirit. There reigns in these closed places a particular mentality, quite conducive to drama.

How did you use color?

In fact, it was the essential tool for me for this adaptation. I had to give warmth to a sometimes very cold story. In the more austere scenes, I was able to use color, which created something vibrant and seductive that keeps the reader balanced between horror and humor.

How did you work with Guillaume Musso?

Guillaume was very respectful of my work. He made very few corrections. He gave me carte blanche. He trusted me. Between him and me, it was an elective meeting, a beautiful collaboration. Musso gets the picture. He gave me the freedom necessary for me to succeed in this transposition. He released his “baby” into someone else’s hands. It must not have been obvious to him. But I felt limitless support from him. And that galvanized me…