On one hand, after reading this, I'm desperate to go back to France and finally visit Portugal. The depiction of everyday life in those places lulls you like a good dream (it's certainly helped by the frequent palette as seen on the cover). However, I found Simon to be a bit of a turd, which didn't make me feel totally invested in his genealogy hunt. Pedrosa's style is kind of spidery, making it a mess sometimes and lovely others. A lot of the book is spent on the idle chatter of whatever environment Simon happens to be in, and often the Portuguese goes on for several panels with (what feels like) only a pithy translation by a character, which, again, does lend to the atmosphere of the book, but feels distracting as well. So...I guess I'm really just on the fence about this overall. ( )

My husband has long been a graphic novel fan. In fact, he's traded getting some individual comics issues for waiting for the graphic novel instead. Obviously he's programmed to read text and image at the same time without any trouble. I still struggle with this a lot, feeling like the pictures break up my reading, and not in a thoughtful, positive way. But this is clearly my issue, not a genre issue. And so I keep trying to find my way in to graphic novels that otherwise fit my interests, like Portugal, a slow, dreamy graphic novel by Cyril Pedrosa.

Simon Muchat is a comics illustrator but he's completely blocked artistically, teaching children's classes instead of drawing himself and unhappy with his previous work. He seems to be standing at a cross roads in his life, not certain which road he should choose. His girlfriend tries to prod him towards work but their relationship is as unrewarding as his drawing and eventually she leaves him. Finally Simon decides to visit Portugal for his cousin's wedding. He doesn't speak the language and he doesn't really know the story of his father's family but this trip will help him find his history and find himself in the process.

The story is one of subtle and slow transformation as Simon is inspired by the magical country and the welcoming people he encounters. The colors in the pictures are duller, more earthbound in the beginning before he leaves France. Once he is in Portugal, a golden light and warmth suffuses many of the panels. In the beginning there is more text, telling clearly of his discontent and frustration. As the story progresses, there is far less dialogue and exposition. The Portuguese is left untranslated, which allows the English speaking reader to experience the lack of understanding as language washes over them just as it does for Simon. The simple line drawings and the wash of watercolors adds to the dreamy feeling of the story. The tale itself is observational and contemplative, detailing many simple, everyday occurrences. It is a wandering story of a man looking for and finding quiet inspiration and his own lost creativity. It is a story of connection with history, with a personal past, and with family. I struggled with it but I do think that has everything to do with me and little to do with the book itself. ( )

Comics artist Simon Muchat is suffering writer's block, in art and life, but when he's invited to a books festival in Portugal, where his family is from, the country and its people may give him the breath of fresh air he needs. This is just beautiful! The narrator starts off a little whiny, so I was somewhat worried in the beginning, but once we get into his family story, I was completely engrossed - the characters are spectacular and all so odd and real. The art is very impressionist, though, so may take a little getting used to, but Pedrosa's color choices are spot on. And, I understood most of the Portuguese dialogue(!), but that's a personal achievement rather than a requirement for understanding the book - in fact, I think you are NOT meant to understand so you feel more in tune with the narrator. ( )

Proposta editorialmente imponente quella di edizioni Bao per questo lavoro di Cyril Predosa. Tre storie per raccontare i portoghesi quando tornano nella loro patria, gente che spesso parte, ma qualche volta ritorna. Tre storie intense, diverse, per raccontare da tre angolature diverse la cultura di un popolo straordinario proprie per le sue diversità, sempre diviso tra l’amore per una terra straordinario e la voglia di evadere. Il progetto, quindi, estremamente interessante, ma poi la realizzazione risulta abbastanza piatta, mancano gli spunti, la colorazione appesantisce il disegno e l’amalgama tra sceneggiatura e tratto sembra insoddisfacente. Il risultato diventa una lettura priva di brio e in molte parti noiosa, lo sforzo editoriale si trasforma in sforzo di lettura e Portugal risulta un fumetto abbastanza deludente.

Recensione del 29 settembre 2021
Torno a leggere Portugal dopo tanti anni e devo dire che anche questa volta il capolavoro di Cyril Pedrosa mi sembra molto lontano dagli echi della critica. Tre uomini, tra cui l’autore, tornano in Portogallo per ritrovare le loro radici. Sono tre storie diverse che trovano il comune denominatore nel forte senso di appartenenza dei portoghesi per la loro terra, quella saudade che ha sempre contraddistinto i lusitani. Un popolo di viaggiatori senza pace, alla costante ricerca di un collegamento con la propria famiglia e con le proprie tradizioni. Ma le tre storie mancano di amalgama, la qualità del disegno e alcuni spunti non sono sufficienti per trasformare questo fumetto in una grande storia. Cyril Pedrosa ha fatto di meglio. ( )

Plus vraiment d'inspiration, plus d'envies et pas de projets, l'auteur de BD Simon Muchat végète doucement dans son boulot d'animateur scolaire, et exaspère Claire, sa compagne, qui le voudrait plus investi.

Invité à passer quelques jours au Portugal, dont sa famille est originaire et où il n'était plus allé depuis l'enfance, il va y découvrir une autre façon d'exister et d'être — et peut-être le début d'une nouvelle inspiration ?

Cyril Pedrosa nous livre un récit introspectif qui explore les plis et replis existentiels d'un quotidien sans histoire, devenu sans consistance et sans saveur. Le récit, aussi, d'une renaissance à soi, à travers la redécouverte d'un lieu d'enfance, noyé dans les brumes du souvenir. ( )