Maybe there's someone out there who doesn't fear death, in that vein, isolation. We don't really hear from them, so they seemingly don't exist. Surely they exist. Collectively they exist like forgotten people, dreams, and thoughts. But so what? We're not here for an abstract concept like lost art.
I expected a messed up story, a melodramatic cliche to topple over itself. For a brief time, it felt that way. I had smug self satisfaction thinking that. But the story continued, and continued. And I was sated for all of my true desires. I was very satisfied by this story. It was very sensible. There was no unwanted preaching. There were no cheap, one dimensional characters. There wasn't even a background character that didn't have their own life constantly on their mind.
No one acted in a ridiculous manner without reason. There were no mind boggling misunderstandings. There was only slow, satisfying revelation. Feeling frustration, as a reader toward a certain aspect, is acceptable if it is the intention of the writer.
Jeremy's feelings muddled everything he saw. When Ian began to share his same memories and dreams, it was not confusing to follow what was happening. Following the story along, understanding what the characters were going through...
It's so incredible that a writer can have a skill such as emotional manipulation. It's required to reach the hearts of readers. Readers want to be taken in another world, right? They want to be emotionally moved. In other words, we're willing to be vulnerable with the author's intentions. It's give and take. In that way, I feel that this author thoroughly respects her audience.
This is a very refined, very developed story with gorgeous artwork that very strongly desires to communicate with its reader. It will take the time to lay bare all of its fibers so that it can to be understood.
