It’s June. Seasons go around and we are entering the summer again.
As it already feels so hot to walk around the city during the day (how would I survive again this coming midsummer scorcher?), our daily “passeggiata” has been shifted to the riverside walk.
Fortunately, we live by the river and are surrounded by lots of greens that give us shelter from the reflected heat of the sun. So, during the day we go for a short walk in the woods along the river, and in the early morning or in the evening, if we feel like, go for an hourlong walk to the upstream crossing two bridges.
I like walking on the bridges, especially the suspension bridge which was recently reopened several blocks up from our street. There is a panorama from the bridge in which we can spot some couples and flocks of birds (and even fish!), and cool air breezing up from the river. It’s really refreshing and I feel that the summer has come.
It’s been a while since I became a citizen of the world, and now I'm based in Italy. But when I feel the transition of seasons, I recognize my native identity. I am Japanese.
Like many other countries, Japan has four seasons. Transition of nature we see in trees, flowers, mountains and waterfronts tell us the ending and beginning of each season, and we may feel not only rejoicing but also sentimental. Perhaps because we see beauty in something that is short-lived, just like in the evanescence of cherry blossoms in April.
It’s difficult to explain why, but if I may borrow some ideas expressed in this exhibition overview of A Sensitivity to the Seasons: Autumn and Winter held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2006, the Japanese have keen attentiveness to seasonal changes, and a sensitivity to the all-encompassing sweep of the seasons formed the foundation of Japanese life and culture.
So, in a nutshell, I, as a Japanese, am sensitive to things that change. That’s probably why one of the latest books by Bologna-born Parisienne illustrator, Beatrice Alemagna, touched the right chord of mine.
It tells things in life that go away, but in the end, there is one thing that never changes, something that is forever.
I read the Italian edition checked out from the city library. As it was written in plain Italian, I could understand everything without a dictionary (and thus I believe the book can also be suitable for babies). Also available in English in two different titles. In U.S.A it is published as Things that go away, while in the U.K., as Forever, by different publishers.
Unfortunately, it is not yet translated in my mother tongue. It’s my little ambition to translate and publish it in Japanese myself. If only I was a publisher... Or is there any other way?
Why I wanted to write about this book is not only because I love its concept but also the style of illustrations.
Believe it or not, it turned out while I was browsing the author's website today that her first children’s book was the book I had been looking for more than a decade without a clue of the title and the name of the author. I saw it at a bookstore in France about 15 years ago but regretfully, didn’t buy it then. All I remembered was the lovely illustration of the book.
Can you imagine my face when a familiar illustration that had been on my mind for many years finally popped up on the screen by chance?
No wonder why her illustrations in this book, Le cose che passano, which I first saw most likely during the 2019’s Bologna Children’s Book Fair, were also unforgettable. It made me happy when I finally read it with my son some months ago.
Your sorrow may come but eventually disappear, just like music played on the piano, vapor from the café mocha machine (my favourite image from this book!), or dust on the floor do so. That's how the book tells about things that go away.
Likewise, the way my son speaks, moves, or looks today can never be the same again. So I want to cherish every single moment I share with him now. That’s something I felt while reading this book.
In life, there are many things that come and go. But there is one thing that never changes, never goes away.
What do you think it is?
You will find one answer by the author at the end of the book.
Alla prossima volta, buona giornata!
About today's book
Written and Illustrated by Beatrice Alemagna
Published in October 2019 by TopiPittori
Originally published in French as Les Choses qui s'en vont and also available in English (Forever / Things that go away) and in Spanish.