Cabbages and neon lights

Captain Silver, a sort of whimsical and grumpy urban pirate, has found himself in exactly the right situation: a right-hand man/underling/accountant, two Danish henchmen, a parrot, a temperamental mother who laments having such a dim-witted son, and above all, enemies (the 4:37 subway and a certain Chmuz, a famous local merchant). Because you need enemies, loads of them, to exist. In this novel, somewhere between Hook and Goodfellas, adults aren't really adults, pirates aren't really pirates, and the city is a playground almost as vast as the ocean.
To illustrate this story, Léopold Prudon took out his box of felt-tip pens. Travel pens, childhood pens, magic pens. The kind that, beyond the burst of color, always leave that faint trace behind each stroke. A trace that tells a little more than the image itself and makes the pen so precious. With great intelligence and a love for the world, Léopold Prudon thus gives color to humor, substance to emotions, and movement to action.