How do you write a biography for someone about whom many basic details, including even their real name and date of birth, are unknown? If that sounds like an impossible task, then you must grant that comics writer and artist Golo has done the impossible with B. Traven: Portrait of a Famous Unknown, originally published in French in 2007, then translated into English by Donald Nicholson-Smith and published by PM Press this year. The book details the life and times of Traven, the anarchist novelist behind the Death Ship, the Wobbly, and, most famously, the Treasure of the Sierra Madre, which was adapted into an Oscar-winning film in 1948. 

Golo’s work has appeared in a variety of publications,  including the satirical Hiri-Kiri and Charlie Hebdo, and the left-wing Libération, all French. His work also has run in the Cairo Times and L’Association, both published in Egypt where he lives. Since I don’t speak French, this was my first exposure to Golo, alias Guy Nadaud. His work is cartoony and relies heavily on caricature. Despite his background in shorter strips and cartoons for periodicals, he has no problem sustaining the longer narrative of a biography. His pace never dragged and I was never bored. 

Both the text itself and PM Press, on the back cover, align Traven’s work with the Zapatista movement from Chiapas, Mexico. Doubtless, Traven would have found much to support in the Zapatista movement including its indigenous roots and its form of libertarian socialism. But in reading this passage from Rebellion of the Hanged you can see that it does not apply just to Mexican natives: “It was no fault of the rebels that they were animated by sentiments of death and destruction. They had never been allowed to express their rights. A blind obedience was inculcated in them by flogging until it became second nature…” He could also have been talking about Kurds in Turkey or the Palestinians.  As an anarchist, Traven must have intended to include these universal themes of exploitation and oppression. Even though his books were released nearly a hundred years ago, there is much in them still relevant today. 

Many parts of the life of B. Traven are an enigma and Golo does not attempt to answer any unanswerable questions. He agrees with most biographers that Traven was the German anarchist known as “Ret Marut,” but who Marut really was is not and seemingly cannot be known. Marut was a radical opponent of the German Empire, of war, and of capitalism. He launched slashing attacks against them from his journal Der Ziegelbrenner (In English, “The Brickburner”). His work escaped censorship because authorities, themselves surely thick as bricks, thought it was a trade journal.

Golo plays with color in depicting Traven’s time as Marut. It is primarily monochromatic, evoking old films and photographs. The color red is the only standout. Red here symbolizes the power of the socialist ideal. It represented deliverance for the downtrodden masses in their destructive revolution against the upper classes. This ideal was a powerful thing—as belief or boogeyman. Despite his political differences, Traven sympathized with the goals of the German Revolution. In Der Ziegelbrenner he cast a “pox on those who are calling for another war!” He was arrested by right-wing militarists for his outspoken criticism and narrowly escaped execution. Traven’s books were to be burned by the ideological successors to those militarists: Hitler’s Nazis. 

Traven became a man without a country, slaving away on a ship all the while he attempted to establish residency someplace other than Germany. He is frustrated by authorities everywhere he turned. True to an anarchist viewpoint, the government officials never come off well in this work. They are overfed and smoke fat cigars. One American diplomat cleans his ears with a pen. During an interrogation scene, Golo’s panels narrow, constricting around Traven and giving the reader a visual sense of what it meant to be so trapped.

Periodically, Golo interrupts the narrative for splash pages of surrealist imagery relating to ancient Mexican history. These splashes are filled with exquisite detail; the eye lingers over his majestic temples, Aztec warriors, and Spanish conquistadors. The history of Mexico and its indigenous people was a repeated touchstone for Traven’s work, especially in his jungle novels, a category including Rebellion of the Hanged. Another series of three splash pages showcase the viewpoint of Der Ziegelbrenner and the social evils Traven and his publication railed against.  

Much of the book is dedicated to Traven’s struggles to make a living. Aside from his time shoveling coal on a ship, Traven performed back-breaking labor in the cotton and oil fields of Mexico. Elements of these experiences made their way into Traven’s novels. It’s difficult to imagine someone who didn’t live the life he lived writing as successfully on the topics of labor and exploitation as he did. It’s not all drudgery though; Golo also details a successful restaurant worker strike and a humorous yarn about a peasant’s attempts to purchase one of Traven’s puppies. 

How Golo depicts Traven’s appearance changes throughout the text. At first, he is shrouded in shadows, since no one knows how he looked during his time as an actor. Later, he is shown with the facial features of Ret Marut, which are known from his mugshot. Finally, Golo gives him the looks of “Traven Torsvan,” widely believed to have been a pseudonym for Traven. It can’t have been easy to decide how to depict such a mysterious figure. Golo makes wise choices.    

While Golo is sympathetic to his subject, his book is not afraid to showcase the unsavory parts of Traven’s life. This is a biography, not a case for sainthood. Near the end of the book, he details how the children of Ret Marut would send letters to Traven asking to be acknowledged. Traven never did so. Traven also never picked up acquaintances he left behind when he fled Germany. Golo doesn’t attempt to explain Traven’s actions, but he does document them honestly, even if they are unflattering toward his subject.

Any readers looking to learn more about Traven are in luck when they get to the end of this book. Unlike several nonfiction comics I’ve read, there is an extensive bibliography and not just of Traven’s novels and short stories. Also included is a list of biographies and scholarly works on Traven. One is in German, but the rest are in English. It’s a testament to Golo’s engaging storytelling that I began searching my local libraries for copies of the books listed. 

B. Traven: Portrait of a Famous Unknown is an exemplary look at the life of one of literature’s most singular personages. If it is successful enough, perhaps it will inspire PM Press or some other publisher to consider translating the creators’ other work. It’s something I’d be interested in reading, if the present volume is any guide. Hopefully, Golo’s book will also rescue the work of one of the great proletarian novelists from (unjust) obscurity.