René Guillot was the horseman of the word, the cowboy at the service of the pleased adventure, the small and angry Crin Blanc the interpreter and protagonist of the adventure. This was how, in an untameable thirst for reading, I met the small and wilful Camargue.

Kyoto has all the manifestations of that exhilarating cliché of Japan, where the traditional and modern supposedly clash. But it is a city which no longer has any context. It has no past, no future, only the present. It has become a manga fantasy, that can be created or destroyed with an artist’s stroke. Picked up, the reader is taken to an artificial place divorced from history and time. But like a manga, it’s impermanent and disposable.