Audrey Hepburn

I'm reading Breakfast at Tiffany's these days. It's one of these novels that you just can't put down until you finish them. And when you're finishing them you wished you had two more hours to read lazily, and the book a hundres pages more. Plus, with BaT you have Audrey Hepburn in your mind every time you read Holly Golightly. What more can you ask for? Holly, go lightly. Don't know if there's a play on words here. I should ask Truman.
So I'm reading the novel, and it strikes me that it was published in 1958, because I simply can't tell it happened 45 years ago. I don't really know America that much, but I would say that's a very American thing. Time is different there, for there are places, atmospheres, that you would say they are exactly the same today than 50 years ago. To me, this is something to be very proud of (don't really wanna tell you how Spain looked five decades ago...)
You take the New York city of BaT, and I'm sure you can find the brownstone house were Holly lived, and the bar where she made her phonecalls and got drunk with martinis, and Tiffany's, all exactly the same now. Moreover, I'm sure you can feel the atmosphere, that abstract feeling that, precisely because it's abstract, hasn't changed.
Maybe it has to do with American literature, with Holywood cinema, such a pair of so recent legend makers. I really don't know. But it's there and, if it catches you inside, you'll never be able to escape. Like a spider net, a very delicious one where, I am afraid, you forget about the spider.