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The book is an ax to break the sea of ice within us …
A book is magic as all books are. Everyone in their own way has a special soul, large and small, for travel or for an armchair, for a subway or a double bed, but always a soul made of words and thoughts, of descriptions of things and people, therefore poetic and alive. Reading is living, perhaps through the eyes of another, the Author. In this way you come out of yourself for a little while, forgetting worldly problems and worries to immerse yourself in an elsewhere that is often foreign and unknown. It is this “elsewhere” that miraculously calms and soothes. Yes, you read it right, but in your hearts as readers you have always known it: the book heals.
The tormented Vincent Van Gogh knew something about it, sent to the sad mining region of Borinage, among black terril hills made up of coal waste, to preach the words of…
