Thanks Nordmann.

Regarding the seduction episode, I will propose a full script later today. I will try to set something up that explains why the guy can see she's alone. Also, she's not fed up by the lad, but by the whole situation. More on this later. I'm a bit reluctant to show her demonstrating her superiority at the shooting, as it would somehow break her anonymity. I intend to replace this by disdainful irony.

Any idea about what one can win at a shooting gallery?

Tokens were normal lesser prizes (normally redeemed in the fair as admission tickets for other sideshows). At events such as these souvenirs of the occasion would probably have been among the "better" prizes at these booths too. Candy was also a hardy standby (boiled sweets etc). But you can let your imagination go on this one, I reckon. As long as the prizes are cheap and credible for their time (no fluffy animals!) then I'm sure you would have found a funfair booth somewhere at some time giving them out.

What's the point of this encounter then? What are we to learn about Josie from it and why is it taking place at a shooting gallery? If we learn more about him than her, then as readers are we to assume he will come back into the story at some point? If not, then this is a terribly misleading scene in the narrative.

"Our family  shoots for dinner,  hat feathers and  to keep vermin down," she said, patting her bag. "At all times." She turns to leave, "Do take the prize.... that is good form, is it not?"

Does that help?

There's an article about Neuilly's fair in 1880 (here, French only), which gives hints about what you can buy and/or win:

• bizarre porcelain and glassware
  
• gingerbread, barley sugars
  
• castanets
  
• kittens
  
• coffee cups (which make concierges happy)
  

> What's the point of this encounter then? What are we to learn about Josie from it and why is it taking place at a shooting gallery?

The point is to show Josie troubled mind. The shooting gallery would trigger flashes of war memories.

Ah, ok. And what's the point of the guy then? By introducing him as a lecher at a shooting gallery you're leading the reader on regarding his role in the story and the resolution of the scene. In fact just about anything the reader may justifiably expect by way of resolution is way stronger than the one you've proposed. Can't you find some way to meet this expectation and at least let him exit the story having served it in some meaningful way?

All those prizes look exactly right for the period and place. Well found.

> what's the point of the guy then?

What I have in mind is not very subtle, I admit. The guy would act as a foil to Josy, to demonstrate her disdain for sexist/paternalistic behavior and lack of interpersonal skill.

Then make him more subtle (and realistic at the same time). In a graphic novel you have an excellent opportunity to portray his lecher quality through his features and expression even while he's speaking relatively within "the rules". In fact the contrast works even better than simply having him - quite unrealistically - launch into full verbal "seduction mode". The reader comes away from the image feeling they've shared Josy's insight, and even a little of her discomfort.

You still have to resolve the shooting gallery location though. It's too specific to be simply a mere backdrop to the exchange.

Sylvain wrote:

Thanks Nordmann.

Any idea about what one can win at a shooting gallery?

Chalkware ( plaster of Paris ) figurines, now replaced by stuffed animals. These figurines are known as "carnival chalk"

The original carnival game prizes

Eiffel tower models, then just as now, were already the souvenir of choice in Paris. Chalkware examples abound - and many of them may originally have been won at fairs. During the International Exposition the ornate gateway construction was also being mass produced in miniature.

This is a photograph of a fair from 1900, though it is on St Giles' Boulevard in Oxford rather than Neuilly. The attractions and fashions would be similar.

This one, on the other hand, was taken at Neuilly-sur-Seine during the 1900 Fete.

The Cirque Corvi:



poster for 1902:

This picture was taken at Neuilly sometime between 1895 and 1905, exact date is uncertain. Photographer was Paul Genioux:








Poster for 1900

Thanks Triceratops, I added your pictures here.

From the narrative ... wrote:

At one point, a man makes advances to her and she lets herself be led. He takes her to the shooting stand and shows off by winning her a trinket, while making paternalistic remarks (“Beware of weapons, they’re dangerous, they’re not made for ladies!”). She makes fun of him with covered words (“Are you going to be able to reach the target at this distance ?!”), but he doesn’t realize it. Then he offers her a pastry. While he is talking about him, she thinks of her childhood, of her missing mother. The man, annoyed, ends up walking away.

Ok, I see what you're after here. Josie being shown as completely aloof from the proceedings, even to the point that she absent-mindedly "follows" this guy to the shooting gallery while he goes about his spiel.

This is perfectly valid a scenario, though just as effective (probably even more so) if the guy isn't portrayed as a complete lecher but simply a good natured chancer who literally cannot see that her mind is a million miles away. He goes through the motions of impressing her, though his comment about weapons and ladies is a little too "out of the blue" and could be toned down or even eliminated. His actions already mark him out as a patronising and chauvinist individual, and this can always be accentuated anyway through how he's drawn on the page too. No need for the overkill.

In the narrative as you posted it she obviously snaps out of her reverie enough to have a pointed dialogue involving sexual innuendo, which is also a bit too much - switching straight from being a million miles away to suddenly being Groucho Marx just doesn't work well. Instead I reckon it would be enough simply to show that she suddenly snaps into focus regarding where she is and who she's with (based on something he says - preferably interrogatively) and then departs with a pithy one-liner, though more in line with Priscilla's earlier suggestion in tone than open insult. In other words it is she who ends the encounter, not him, probably even while he was in mid-sentence. And all the thinking about her mother, childhood etc, should have happened prior to this point anyway. That makes for a more satisfyingly dramatic encounter while still covering all the base points you intend to convey.

> Instead I reckon it would be enough simply to show that she suddenly snaps into focus [...] and then departs with a pithy one-liner [...]. In other words it is she who ends the encounter, not him

Thanks Nordmann. You've read my mind: this is exactly what I've done in the layout. I've even showed Josie somehow regretting her behavior toward the poor lad. 

I'm late on the translation work. I will provide the English layouts in the coming days (the French version is here (I'm also completely reorganizing the website)).

Winchester 1894 Model:

Given what I've read about the various Winchester models, I'd favor the Model 1892 Carbine (more Ninja-compatible):


http://www.winchesterguns.com/products/rifles/model-1892/model-1892-current-products/model-1892-carbine.html

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Winchester_Model_1892

Good choice.

wiki;

Admiral Robert E. Peary carried an 1892 on his trips to the North Pole, and Secretary of War Patrick Hurley was presented with the one millionth rifle on December 13, 1932. Famous Amazon explorer Percy Fawcett carried a Winchester 92 on his expeditions and the famous jaguar hunter Sasha Siemel also used a short barrelled Winchester 92 carbine (with a bayonet attached). The Royal Navy used 21,000 examples during World War One.

The story will involve conflicts between colonial powers. I will tell you more about it in a week or so. 

Talking about colonialism, here is a US advertisement representing Admiral Georges Dewey in 1899:

That is some image, Sylvain! You really should post it on Priscilla's Soap thread. Love the missionary offering a nice tablet of Pears' Soap - cleanliness is next to godliness? - it is a missionary, isn't it?

> You really should post it on Priscilla' Soap thread

Done!

> it is a missionary, isn't it?

I believe so, although the hat's color looks a bit awkward to me.

A first insight of the Fête de Neuilly graphics (bottom frame):
 

Very nice artwork, Sylvain, and the last frame of Neuilly I thought was, given the limitations of a 'bande dessinée', very redolent of the period, place and particular circumstances. The bearded gentleman seems vaguely familiar, although perhaps slightly more hirsuit to how I originally remember him, although he would indeed be 20 years older in 1900: do I detect a hint of Renoir's 'Luncheon of the Boating Party'?


,

You probably nailed it. I mainly provided Silvio with photos (see here), but as an artist, he probably has many artistic references in mind. I will ask him one of these days.

About women disguising in men, as discussed earlier in this thread:

Georges Sand (1804-1876), Story Of My Life, see a larger excerpt here

So, I had a “sentry box redingote” made for myself, out of thick gray
cloth, with matching trousers and vest. With a gray hat and a wide wool tie, I
was the perfect little first-year student. I cannot tell you the pleasure I derived
from my boots-I would gladly have slept in them, as my brother did in his
youth, when he put on his first pair. With those little iron heels, I felt secure on
the sidewalks. I flew from one end of Paris to the other. It seemed to me that I
could have made a trip around the world. Also, my clothing made me fearless.
I was on the go in all kinds of weather, I came in at all hours, I sat in the pit in
every theater. No one paid attention to me, no one suspected my disguise.
Aside from the fact that I wore it with ease, the absence of coquettishness in
costume and facial expression warded off any suspicion. I was too poorly
dressed and looked too simple-my usual vacant, verging on dumb, look-to
attract or compel attention. Women understand very little about wearing a disguise,
even on the stage. They do not want to give up the slenderness of their
figure, the smallness of their feet, the gracefulness of their movements, the
sparkle in their eyes; and yet all these things~specially their way of glancing-
make it easy to guess who they are. There is a way of stealing about,
everywhere, without turning a head, and of speaking in a low and muted pitch
which does not resound like a flute in the ears of those who may hear you. Furthermore,
to avoid being noticed as a man, you must already have not been
noticed as a woman.

It's the last sentence that's important. Sand wasn't trying to overtly disguise herself as a man - in fact as she says herself this was something to be avoided, defeating the purpose of the exercise - achieving relative anonymity in public - by drawing undue attention to herself. The key therefore was not to be noticed as a woman either, in other words to avoid notice at all. In that sense in the 1830s one couldn't have wished for a better garment than a deringote, or frock-coat. This garment was almost the unisex coat of its day, often making men look effeminate or women masculine depending on the cut.









Women had taken to using a redingote - originally a man's garment - first on practical grounds for when horse riding, and then as it developed to be an acceptable garment to be seen outdoors in generally, even sans-cheval.

Alas for your heroine the deringote had long gone out of fashion by her time and it's difficult to think of a similar garment that would hide one's sex while still retaining some sense of fashion - ie. not then advertise you as a labourer or generally poor person.

There's also the admittedly rather unusual example of Jane Dieulafoy: another role model for your heroine, perhaps.


Jane Dieulafoy, aged mid 40s, in about 1895.

Born Jeanne Henriette Magre in Toulouse in 1851, she married Marcel Dieulafoy (born 1844) in 1870, the year the Franco-Prussian War began. Marcel volunteered and was sent to the front, and his nineteen-year-old wife, Jane, accompanied him, wearing a soldier's uniform and fighting as a marks(wo)man by his side. With the end of the war, Marcel took employment with the Midi Railway Company, but during the next ten years the Dieulafoys travelled extensively in Egypt and Morocco to pursue their mutual interest in archaeology, and after 1879 they basically devoted themselves full-time to archaeological research, often conducted 'in the field'. During the 1880s they travelled widely in Persia and conducted a major excavation at Susa, where they found numerous important artifacts and friezes, many of which they had shipped back to France. One such find is the famous Lion Frieze, still on almost permanent display at the Louvre. For her contributions the French government conferred upon her the title of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor in 1886.

By then she was an excellent shot; an accomplished horsewoman; had experience of haggling to release hostages as much for getting a good price on a cheap blanket; could apparently get along with nearly everyone she encountered from hairy-arsed French 'poilus' to the President of the Republic, or from a Persian muleteer to the Shah himself; spoke several languages including English, Spanish, Italian and some Arabic; and also wrote two novels, one of which, set in ancient Susa, was later adapted into an opera by Camille Saint-Saëns. During WW1 Marcel volunteered to go to Morocco as part of a diplomatic mission and again Jane accompanied him, while she continued to lobby the French government, with some success, for women to be allowed a bigger role in the military. But while in Morocco she contracted amoebic dysentery and was forced to return to France where she died in 1916. Marcel died in 1920. The childless couple left their home in Paris to the French Red Cross who continue to operate an office from the building to this day.

During her travels abroad, Jane Dieulafoy preferred to dress in men's clothing and wear her hair short, because it was otherwise difficult for a woman to travel freely in a Muslim country. She had also dressed as a man when she fought alongside her husband during the Franco-Prussian war, and so she habitually continued dressing in men's clothing when she came back in France. This was against the law in France at the time, but when she returned from the Middle East, publically fêted and with Presidential honours, she received a special 'permission de travestissement' from the Prefect de Police. About her cross-dressing she wrote, "I only do this to save time. I buy ready-made suits and I can use the time saved this way to do more work". She considered herself fully an equal to her husband - in 1870 they had contracted a somewhat unusual for the time, but entirely legal, form of marriage, based on complete mutual equality - but she was also fiercely loyal to him and voiced her opposition to the idea of divorce, believing it degraded men and women alike.

Jane Dieulafoy was a remarkable woman - well ahead of her time, in both ideas and actions, and certainly no dilettante cross-dresser - but I find she's mostly forgotten these days.

Jane Dieulafoy looks very interesting, as part of the story takes place in Persia. I will have a look.

This is just a link to Wiki commons, Sylvain. Photographs by Antoin Sevruguin of Persia around about 1900:

Antoin Sevruguin

Young woman smoking a qalyoon