It's hard not to instantly fall in love with anything by Tezuka, this also holds true of Barbara. I do mean both comic and character, as she quickly launched herself into my mind with her distinctive personality. The vagrant depressive with an artist's soul is a type of person I fell in love many times in fiction and almost as many times in real life. But don't be deceived, my love for this particular Tezuka extends much further than projecting myself onto Barbara.
As the introduction of the copy I read states, Tezuka was involved with the art elites of his time. Postmodernism was sweeping the artistic world of the 1950s and it's only natural that Tezuka would become enveloped with this wave. A love for postmodernism is what started my serious literally journey as a teen, and currently I still hold a lot of love for it and the surrounding artistic culture of the 60s. However, one does not need to be extensively familiar with this whole subject to enjoy this story, although it does help the reader to brace themselves for the insane story that unfolds.
Its important to remember postmodernism is referential, and often funny on top of the deeper dive into the structures behind text and its meaning. This holds true of Tezuka's bibliography too, as this often depressing and scandalous tale of an insane writer who begins living with a vagrant woman who inexplicably throws around literary allusions is as often fun as it is moving. The intense avoidance of sexuality by the writer results in a great deal of psychosexual thriller undertones, but also some of the most inexplicable things Tezuka ever wrote about.
This story will make you want to put on some Godard or Agnes Varda, drinking cheap wine and what I am sure is a tobacco filled pipe. Relaxing to Frank Zappa and the Velvet underground arguing about their beef and shooting the shit with your colourfully dressed friends parroting William Burroughs and Kurt Vonnegut. And even if not, you'll probably enjoy it anyway.