Synoptic Sentence View: Sentence 2229
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L'Innommable Segment 2229, version 1 (MS-HRC-SB-4-1, f. 50v)
Oui, mais voilà, je suis
loin de mes portes, loin de mes murs, [⁁] [⁁] il faut l'adresser au xxxtier, colonel, porte-clefs, il
y en a un sûrement,
loin de mon propos aussi, retournons-y,
il n'est plus là, plus là où j'avais cru
le voir., curieux ce mélange de dur et de liquide, Curieux, ce mélange de
dur et de liquide, xxx qui
xxxait de la boue de citadelle et
xxx xxx, d'où on ne peut pas
sortir, où on ne peut pas couler, est-ce
possible que ça signifie quelque chose
ce n'est pas le même, ou alors je me
suis trompé d'endroit, si, c'est le
même, il est toujours là, au même
endroit, c'est dommage, j'aurais
voulu le perdre, j'aurais voulu me
perdre, je voudrais me perdre comme
autrefois, du temps où j'avais de
l'imagination, fermer les yeux et
être dans un bois, ou au bord de la
mer, ou dans une ville où je ne
connais personne, c'est la nuit, tout
le monde est couché et je marche dans
les rues, je les enfile les unes après les
autres, c'est la ville de ma jeunesse,
je cherche ma mère, pour la tuer, il
fallait y penser plus tôt, avant de
naître, il pleut, je suis bien, je marche au milieu de la chaussée, en faisant
de grandes embardées, maintenant
c'est fini, quand je ferme les
yeux je vois la même chose que lorsque
je les garde ouverts, c'est à dire,
attendez, je vais le dire, ça va venir,
je me demande ce que ça va être, je
suis curieux de savoir ce que ça peut
bien être, ce que je vois, les yeux
ouverts, les yeux fermés, rien, je
ne vois plus rien, c'est décevant, c'est
ça ne pas pouvoir me perdre, je me
pose une question, c'est ça ne plus pouvoir
me perdre, ne rien voir, de quelque
côté que je regarde, ni, quand je
ne regarde plus, cette petite créature
aux nombreux déguisements allant
et venant, passant de l'ombre à
la lumière, faisant son possible,
cherchant les moyens, de rester parmi
les autres, de passer à travers, ou,
enfermé, regardant par la fenêtre
le ciel toujours changeant, c'est ça, ne plus
pouvoir me perdre, je ne sais pas,
qu'est-ce que je voyais autrefois,
quand j'ouvrais les yeux, que de
questions, je ne sais pas, je ne me
rappelle pas.
L'Innommable Segment 2229, version 2 (Minuit 1953, p. 214)
Oui, mais voilà, je suis loin de mes portes, loin de mes murs, il faudrait réveiller le porte-clefs, il y en a un sûrement, loin de mon propos aussi, retournons-y, il n'est plus là, plus là où j'avais cru le voir, curieux ce mélange de dur et de liquide, plus le même, ou alors je me suis trompé d'endroit, si, c'est le même, toujours là, au même endroit, c'est dommage, j'aurais voulu le perdre, j'aurais voulu me perdre, je voudrais me perdre comme autrefois, du temps où j'avais de l'imagination, fermer les yeux et être dans un bois, ou au bord de la mer, ou dans une ville où je ne connais personne, c'est la nuit, tout le monde est rentré, je marche dans les rues, je les enfile les unes après les autres, c'est la ville de ma jeunesse, je cherche ma mère, pour la tuer, il fallait y penser plus tôt, avant de naître, il pleut, je suis bien, je marche au milieu de la chaussée, en faisant de grandes embardées, maintenant c'est fini, les yeux fermés je vois la même chose qu'ouverts, c'est-à-dire, attendez, je vais le dire, je vais essayer de le dire, je suis curieux de savoir ce que ça peut bien être, ce que je vois, les yeux ouverts, les yeux fermés, rien, je ne vois plus rien, ça alors, c'est décevant, je m'attendais à mieux que ça, c'est ça ne pouvoir me perdre, je me pose une question, ça ne plus pouvoir me perdre, ne rien voir, de quelque côté que je louche, ni, aveugle, cette petite créature aux nombreux déguisements allant et venant, passant de l'ombre à la lumière, faisant son possible, cherchant le moyen, de rester parmi les vivants, de passer à travers, ou, enfermé, regardant par la fenêtre le ciel toujours changeant, c'est ça, ne plus pouvoir me perdre, je ne sais pas, qu'est-ce que je voyais autrefois, quand je risquais un coup d'œil, je ne sais pas, je ne me rappelle pas.

The Unnamable Segment 2229, version 3 (MS-HRC-SB-5-9-3, f. 23r)
Yes, but there it is, I am far from my doors,
far from my walls, someone would have to
wake the turnkey, there must be one somewhere,
far from my subject too, let's get back to it,
it's gone no longer there, no where I thought
I last saw it, strange this mixture of hard
and liqu solid and liquid, no longer the
same, or else I mistake the place, yes, it's
the same, still there, in the same place, it's
a pity, I would have liked to lose it, I
would have liked to lose myself, I'd like
to lose mysef myself the way I used to, in
the old days I could long ago, when I had
some imagination, close my eyes and be
in a wood, or at the seashore, or in a town
where I don't know anybody, it's night,
everyone has gone home, I walk in the streets,
I take them one after another, it's the town
of my youth, I'm looking for my mother to
kill her, I should have thought of it earlier
in the day, before I was born being born, it's
raining, I'm all right, I walk in the
middle of the roadway, I stride along in
middle of the roadway, with great
yaws to right and left, now that's all
over, with closed eyes I see the same thing as
with them open, namely, wait, I'll say it,
I'll try and say it, I'm curious to know
what it can possibly be that I see, with
closed eyes, with open eyes, nothing, I see
nothing, well that is a disappointment, I
was hoping for something better than that,
is that what it is not to be able to lose
yourself, I'm asking a question myself
a question, is that what is, to see nothing,
no matter where I look, nor, eyeless, the
little creature so variously disguised in his
different disguises coming and going, passing
from shadow to now in shadow, now in
light, doing his best, seeing seeking the
means to stay among the living, to get
off with his life, or shut up looking out
of the window at the ever changing sky,
is that it, not to be able to lose myself,
I don't know, what did I see in the
old days, out of my eye, when I ventured a quick look,
I don't know, I don't remember.

The Unnamable Segment 2229, version 4 (MS-HRC-SB-5-10, f. 119r)
Yes, but there it is, I am far from my doors, far from my walls, someone would have to
wake the turnkey, there must be one somewhere, far from my
subject to, let us go get back to it, it's gone, no longer there where
I thought I last saw it, strange this mixture of solid and
liquid, no longer the same, or else I mistake the place, yes,
it's the same, still there, in the same place, it's a pity,
I would have liked to lose it, I would have liked to lose me,
I'd like to lose me the way I could long ago, when I had some
imagination, close my eyes and be in a wood, ror at the seashore,
or in a town where I don't know anybody, it's night, everyone
has gone home, I walk in the streets, I take [⁁] lash into them one after
another, it's the town of my youth, I'm looking for my mother to
kill her, I should have thought of that earlier in the daya bit sooner,
before being born, it's raining, I'm all right, I stride along
on the crown of the street with great yaws to right and left,
now that's all over, with closed eyes I see the same thing as
with them open, namely, wait, I'll say it, I'll try and say it,
I'm curious to know what it can possibly be that I see, with
closed eyes, with open eyes, nothing, I see nothing, well that
is a disappointment, I was hoping for something better than that,
is that what it is to be unable to lose yourself, I'm asking
myself a question, is that what it is, to see nothing, no matter
where I look, nor, eyeless, the little creature in his different
disguises coming and going, now in shadow, now in light, doing
his best, seeking the means of staying among the living, of
getting off with his life, or shut up looking out of the window
at the evrer changing sky, is that it, to be unable to lose myself,
I don't know, what did I see in the old days, out of my eye,
when I ventured a quick look, I don't know, I don't remember.

The Unnamable Segment 2229, version 5 (MS-WU-MSS008-3-71, f. 116r)
Yes, but there it is, I am far from
my doors, far from my walls, someone would have to wake the turnkey,
there must be one somewhere, far from my subject too, let us get
back to it, it's gone, no longer there where I thought I last saw
it, strange this mixture of solid and liquid, where was I, ah yes, xxy
my subject, no longer there, or no longer the same, or I mistake the
place, no, yes, it's the same, still there, in the same place, it's
a pity, I would have liked to lose it, I woudl[l]d have liked to lose
me, lose me the way I could long ago, when I still had some imagination, close my eyes and be in a wood, or on the seashore, or in a
town where I don't know anybody any one, it's night, everyone has
gone home, I walk the streets, I lash into them one after the other,
it's the town of my youth, I'm looking for my mother to kill her,
I should have thought of that a bit earlier, before being born,[|] it's
raining, I'm all right, I stride along on the crown of the street
with great yaws to left and right, now that's all over, with
vclosed
eyes I see the same as with them open, namely, wait, I'll say it,
I'll try zand say it, I'm curious to know what it can possibly be
that I see, with closed eyes, with open eyes, nothing, I see nothing,
well that is a disappointment, I was hoping for something better
than that, is that what it is to be unable to lose yourself, I'm
asking myself a question, is that what it is, to see nothing, no
matter where I look, nor, eyeless, the little creature in his different disguises coming and going, now in shadow, now in light,
doing his best, seeking the meaningss of staying among the living,
of getting off with his life, or shut up looking out of the window
at the ever-changing sky, is that it, to be unable to lose myself,
I don't know, what did I see in the old days, when I ventured a quick look, I don't know, I don't remember.
The Unnamable Segment 2229, version 6 (Grove Press 1958, p. 146)
Yes, but there it is, I am far from my doors, far from my walls, someone would have to wake the turnkey, there must be one somewhere, far from my subject too, let us get back to it, it's gone, no longer there where I thought I last saw it, strange this mixture of solid and liquid, where was I, ah yes, my subject, no longer there, or no longer the same, or I mistake the place, no, yes, it's the same, still there, in the same place, it's a pity, I would have liked to lose it, I would have liked to lose me, lose me the way I could long ago, when I still had some imagination, close my eyes and be in a wood, or on the seashore, or in a town where I don't know anyone, it's night, everyone has gone home, I walk the streets, I lash into them one after the other, it's the town of my youth, I'm looking for my mother to kill her, I should have thought of that a bit earlier, before being born, it's raining, I'm all right, I stride along on the crown of the street with great yaws to left and right, now that's all over, with closed eyes I see the same as with them open, namely, wait, I'll say it, I'll try and say it, I'm curious to know what it can possibly be that I see, with closed eyes, with open eyes, nothing, I see nothing, well that is a disappointment, I was hoping for something better than that, is that what it is to be unable to lose yourself, I'm asking myself a question, is that what it is, to see nothing, no matter where I look, nor, eyeless, the little creature in his different guises coming and going, now in shadow, now in light, doing his best, seeking the means of staying among the living, of getting off with his life, or shut up looking out of the window at the ever-changing sky, is that it, to be unable to lose myself, I don't know, what did I see in the old days, when I ventured a quick look, I don't know, I don't remember.
L'Innommable Segment 2229, version 7 (Minuit 1971, p. 174)
Oui, mais voilà, je suis loin de mes portes, loin de mes murs, il faudrait réveiller le porte-clefs, il y en a un sûrement, loin de mon propos aussi, retournons-y, il n'est plus là, plus là où j'avais cru le voir, curieux ce mélange de dur et de liquide, plus le même, ou alors je me suis trompé d'endroit, si, c'est le même, toujours là, au même endroit, c'est dommage, j'aurais voulu le perdre, j'aurais voulu me perdre, je voudrais me perdre comme autrefois, du temps où j'avais de l'imagination, fermer les yeux et être dans un bois, ou au bord de la mer, ou dans une ville où je ne connais personne, c'est la nuit, tout le monde est rentré, je marche dans les rues, je les enfile les unes après les autres, c'est la ville de ma jeunesse, je cherche ma mère, pour la tuer, il fallait y penser plus tôt, avant de naître, il pleut, je suis bien, je marche au milieu de la chaussée, en faisant de grandes embardées, maintenant c'est fini, les yeux fermés je vois la même chose qu'ouverts, c'est-à-dire, attendez, je vais le dire, je vais essayer de le dire, je suis curieux de savoir ce que ça peut bien être, ce que je vois, les yeux ouverts, les yeux fermés, rien, je ne vois plus rien, ça alors, c'est décevant, je m'attendais à mieux que ça, c'est ça ne pouvoir me perdre, je me pose une question, ça ne plus pouvoir me perdre, ne rien voir, de quelque côté que je louche, ni, aveugle, cette petite créature aux nombreux déguisements allant et venant, passant de l'ombre à la lumière, faisant son possible, cherchant le moyen, de rester parmi les vivants, de passer à travers, ou, enfermé, regardant par la fenêtre le ciel toujours changeant, c'est ça, ne plus pouvoir me perdre, je ne sais pas, qu'est-ce que je voyais autrefois, quand je risquais un coup d'œil, je ne sais pas, je ne me rappelle pas.