Baptime de la solitude – part I

You leave the gate of the fort or the town behind, pass the camels lying outside, go up into the dunes, or out onto the hard stony plain and stand awhile, alone. Presently, you will either shiver and hurry back inside the walls, or you will go on standing there and let something very peculiar happen to you, something that everyone who lives there has undergone and which the French call la baptime de la solitude. It is a unique sensation, and it has nothing to do with loneliness, for loneliness presupposes memory. There, in this wholly mineral landscape lighted by stars like flares, every memory disappears, nothing is left but your own breathing and the sound of your heart beating. A strange, and by no means pleasant process of reintegration begins inside you, and you have the choice of fighting against it, and insisting on remaining the person you have always been, or letting it take its course. For no one who has stayed in the Sahara for a while is quite the same as where he came. (Paul Bowles, Travels)

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Categorie: Canterbury tales, Ritagli, Travelling | Lascia un commento

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