Pantagruel: Livre V, Chapter II 1942

Bernard Reder made this etching, Pantagruel: Livre V, Chapter II, sometime in the mid-twentieth century. Look at the scratching, the lines, the darks against the lights – it’s like he’s wrestling with the metal plate, trying to get these mythical beasts to emerge from the shadows. I can imagine him hunched over the plate, the acid biting into the metal, each line a decision, an act of will. The texture, the way the ink clings to the paper, it’s all so physical. That swirling mass of fur and teeth – it’s like a storm, a primal scream etched in ink. I think Reder wants to tap into something ancient and wild. It reminds me a bit of Goya's darker prints, those nightmares he conjured up. Artists are always talking to each other, across time and space, riffing on the same themes, the same fears, the same desires. In the end, this print is not just an illustration, but an invitation to dive into our own chaotic depths.