Not too long ago, I attended a screening of an artsy film called Cheri. The reviews were mixed, as were my feelings after the credits rolled. The movie looked sumptuous, but it lacked depth.
But the story of an aging courtesan who falls tragically in love with a much younger man in 1920s Paris was intriguing. I went to the library and checked out the novel written by Colette.
Why read when you can watch? Why seek out the original source materials?
Because Hollywood takes liberties. Because it is thrilling to let your imagination connect the dots. Because there's magic in your own interpretation of an author's words. Because the morsels of language revealed on the page quicken the blood in a way film cannot.
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