Don't Tire yourself, to Go | Review
Iris and Ismail have decided to traferirsi to Verezzi, in Liguria, the home of the maternal grandmother of her. Ismail, however, before settling wants to go back to Damascus to finish the last chores and greet her parents. In those days, however, the beginning of the first unrest in Syria and Ismail begins a painful journey back to Italy, losing everything, and by illegal means, while Iris discovers she is pregnant.
Thus begins a narrative parallel that unites the fate violent and unexpected Ismail with the pregnancy of Iris while we relive their falling in love in Syria and we make the acquaintance of a humanity that is diverse: from the christian missionary in Syria, in love of Islam, the mother of Iris detached and extravagant up to the mentor to always be the girl who finds an unexpected love.
This is basically the beginning of " Not getting Tired of Going to the new work of fortune, the couple formed by Teresa Radice, texts, and Stefano Turconi, drawings, returning to compete with a graphic novel after the success of The Port is Prohibited and the “break” of the book all-ages Orlando Curious.
It is necessary first to clarify two aspects of this book. The first is its density – which is not measured in terms of pages, although it is a volume of 320 pages, and the second is its very autobiographical, instance, that is felt in the course of the reading, but that is then confirmed in the final pages, almost a post-faction, of the author, who gets naked, revealing just how much the events of the graphic novel are believable and that is, as the characters and the events have been filtered from the experiences and lived.
These two aspects are complementary and then to the main themes of the story: the distance and the existence.
If the two lovers are separated by tragic causes of forces majeure, their distance is painfully personal, but it also serves as a flywheel to speak of other kinds of distance: that between the east and the west, artifacts from the alleged incompatibility of the religious, or that between a mother and daughter separated by a lack of communication, the key to which is the past.
So the theme of the journey takes the form of a panacea: to travel means to reduce the distance, but travelling means, above all, to know and to know means to eliminate the ignorance. It doesn't matter that the trip is physical or emotional – Iris goes in Syria but lives also her mother's story through letters – the result is necessarily the same.
The trip, however, it is also a metaphor of pregnancy, the protagonist, and inevitably, her child's, face without a companion but surrounded by the love of friends and acquaintances. While the future mother is granted a match with the baby is sweet and full of expectations.
Like a river in full flood so the Root exploits for these issues to introduce characters that are functional to the story, but the forebears of reflections on topical issues and socio-cultural.
The already mentioned religion for example becomes a stimulus to talk about the search for a personal spirituality and ecumenical – with the figure of the missionary, Saul – while the maternal love is the background of the difficult relationship between Iris and her mother Maite, in which lurk the ghosts of a political extremism, which, consigned to the history books, often forget the scars left on ordinary people. Love, in a romantic sense, is instead depicted as a force, invisible but inexorable: it pushes Ismail to endure the brutal trip to be reunited with Iris, but is also a universal force that does not distinguish gender with the mentor to Iris, Janis, that “lives” in the love for another woman.
While one of the greatest tragedies of our time – the exodus of migrants – is described in a realistic way, raw but not free, and giving voice and texture to the bodies to which the chronicle has taught us to depersonalize.
At the end of these amazing trips waiting for us, of course, a happy ending, but not without notes of sweet-and-sour with the wounds left in the consciousness of Ismail and the leathery strength of will of the Iris which converge in the birth of a “love the lower case” while all of the characters find themselves linked to one's past, present, and future in a serendipity serenely cosmopolitan.
It's up to Stefano Turconi give shape to the density of the contents of the writer. The designer with his characteristic stretch, chisel the figures realistic but not too delicate in their styling “cartoony” while chasing the river in the middle of the words, shaping the board that is thick to contain the dialogue or stretches to paint the worlds in which they are pinned captions poetic and dreamy.
The color also plays a fundamental part in the narrative full of references and flashbacks of the book: he uses a palette of ivory to a flashback of the years ’30 down to the bronze and the orange of the ’70s with the trait that is more and more often as if to underline the indelebilità experiences.
While Ismail and Syria live of yellows and pale colours, Iris and Italy are blue and green, restful and safe that clash with the black of the crossing of the same Ismail as clandestine.
Turconi, perhaps, he achieves his best work in terms of the synergy between stretch, color and illustration.
Not getting Tired of Go is a book wonderfully complex. Sweet and realistic, ambitious and personal, and the number of which is the extreme positivity: the unshakable conviction that the world can be a better place, the result of a change implemented first of all on ourselves, and then donate to those who will follow us who can live and love without barriers and with lightness.
Not getting Tired of Go | Review of MangaForever.net