Rediscovering “Lucy”: Art, Science, and the First Steps of Humanity

You know how every once in a while you stumble on a book that just hits you in a way you didn’t expect? That’s what Lucy did for me.

It’s this poetic, beautifully crafted graphic novel that takes you right back to the beginning of our species. Not in a dry, textbook way — more like a quiet, visual meditation on where we come from. It mixes science, imagination, and expressive art so naturally that you almost forget you’re “reading” anything. You’re just… there. Millions of years ago, watching humanity take its first breath.

Now, finding a copy was a whole adventure on its own. This thing has been out of print for ages. I looked everywhere — online, bookstores, asked friends, checked every place I travelled to. And then, in the most classic “of course this is how it happens” way, I found it totally unexpectedly at a comic convention in Belgrade. It was just sitting there on a vendor’s table, like it had been waiting for me the whole time. I opened it, flipped through a few pages, and that was it — I knew instantly the search was worth it.

What makes Lucy special isn’t just the art (though the art is stunning). It’s how the book blends everything — anthropology, storytelling, illustration, imagination — into something that feels respectful and deeply human. There’s barely any dialogue, but you still feel everything: the fear, the curiosity, the first attempts to understand a world that’s both dangerous and full of possibility.

But the real magic is in the quiet moments — the ones most stories never bother to show. A hand touching water for the first time. A child looking up at the sky. A flicker of understanding crossing someone’s face.

If you’re into graphic novels that stretch the medium, or if you simply enjoy books that make you feel something unexpected, Lucy is a gem. And if you ever spot a copy out in the wild, don’t even think about it — grab it. It’s one of those rare pieces that stays with you long after you close the last page.