Until recent I didn’t know and didn’t care much about graphic novels, comics and suchlike. I remember all too well my own righteous indignation at the sight of young adults reading nothing but comics. What about real reading? For the record: that was in 1994, in Italy. Nowadays, I just marvel at teenagers who actually read paper books instead of staring at their mobile devices. (Now that sounds like a line from a 1960s sci-fi book.) The thing is, in my tender years I simply was not exposed to comics. So, not just cultural references, but an entire genre passed me by. Never mind that. It’s never late to start, well, anything, why not reading comics then. Ah, to be a teen again!
You may know by now that my “method” of choosing the reading material is to grab something from a stand of new books in the library. And there it was, a Spanish-language version of Le bleu est une couleur chaude.
From the start you know it’s gonna end bad. Mainly because the story starts in the end, when Emma learns about the death of Clémentine. (Yes, the death of the protagonist: the fundamental difference between the book and Palme d’Or-winning film adaptation.) But knowing its happy-end-less made me to appreciate more the happy moments in the lives of two lovers.
El amor no puede ser eterno, pero nos hace eternos