New Asterix Comic Lands in Portugal, Lisbon in the Spotlight

Visitors to Lisbon bookshops this week keep bumping into the same question: how did Astérix and Obélix take so long to reach Lusitania? The 41st album of the legendary series finally answers it, spinning a sun-drenched romp through ancient Olissipo that doubles as an affectionate tour of Portuguese identity.

Why Portugal was the missing tile in the Asterix mosaic

From the outset, the new story treats Lusitania as more than a backdrop. It showcases the intricate calçada portuguesa, mournful strains of fado, and even the guerrilla hero Viriato while letting the familiar slapstick of sunlit coast battles drive the plot. The result, say readers at early-morning release queues, is the feeling that Olisipo has been sitting on the map beside Paris for decades. Scriptwriter Fabcaro and illustrator Didier Conrad weave these references into the usual potion of puns so deftly that Obélix seems to have been born craving bacalhau the whole time.

Research trips, saudade and garum: how Fabcaro and Conrad built a Lusitanian playground

To avoid postcard clichés, the creative team steeped themselves in saudade—the Portuguese blend of longing and hope. That word, saudade, drives a key gag: Roman legionaries lay down their shields when a melancholic ballad reaches camp. The pair also dug into culinary archaeology, reviving garum alongside azulejos motifs and the shimmering Atlantic light of Azenhas do Mar. Pages are dotted with nods to the Roman occupation, embroidered folk costumes, glasses of Portuguese wine, and a concern for historical accuracy rare in mainstream comics.

An inside look at the Lisbon print run and pre-sale frenzy

A global first print of 5 M copies would feel distant if not for the 80 000 Portuguese edition rolling off presses in Alfragide. Retailer FNAC unlocked doors at midnight in NorteShopping, Porto, and elsewhere, pairing signings with early-bird events. Crowds at El Corte Inglés in Lisbon tackled thematic quiz nights, while nationwide pre-orders kept ASA’s switchboard blinking. The local arm of ASA publishing reports that sales outpaced the previous album before launch day was over.

Historians cheer, but keep their red pencils ready

Academics specialising in classical Iberia applaud the album’s contextual fidelity, pointing to tiny shards of archaeological detail—from amphora shapes to Celtic jewellery. Still, a few wonder whether the balance between humorous stereotypes and fact will hold. The depiction of the Viriato legend is already the subject of conference scrutiny and upcoming academic panels. Yet most scholars concede that the comic is a triumph of cultural diplomacy, placing Roman Lusitânia in living-room libraries worldwide and inviting critical acclaim rather than dismissal.

Global ambassadors in short trousers: what this means for Portuguese soft power

If Paris had the Eiffel Tower and Belgium had Tintin, Portugal can now count Astérix’s Lusitanian holiday among its tools of soft power. Tourism boards are preparing tourism booster campaigns, and the government’s creative industries task force predicts a surge in licensing deals. The album elevates local comic heritage onto the global stage, reinforcing Lusophone identity from Rio to Maputo. Publishers eye fresh export potential, while teachers praise the story for luring a new youth readership into history class. In short, a handful of ink-and-paper pages have become first-class cultural branding for a country that was once just a footnote at the edge of the Roman Empire.