MS-WU-MSS008-3-49

[0876] little the right gained what the left lost. [0877] For the moon was moving from
left to right, or the room was moving from right to left, or both together
perhaps, or both were moving from left to right, but the room not so fast
as the moon, or from right to left, but the moon not so fast as the room.
[0878] But can one speak of right and left in such circumstances?

[0879] That movements
of an extreme complexity were taking place seemed certain, and yet what
a simple thing it seemed, this vast yellow light sailing slowly behind my
bars and which little by little the dense wall devoured, and finally
eclipses ^{[place = overwritten] d}. [0880] And now its tranquil course was written on the walls, a radiance
scored with shadow, then a brief quivering of leaves, if they were leaves,
then it too went out, leaving me in the dark.

[0881] How difficult it is to
speak of the moon and not lose one's head, [0882] the witless moon. [0883] It must be
her arse that she shows us always. [0884] Yes, I once took an interest in
astronomy, I don't deny it. [0886] Then it was geology that killed a few years
for me. [0887] The next pain in the arse was anthropology and the other
disciplines, such as psychiatry, that are connected with it, disconnected,
then connected again, according to the latest discoveries.

[0888] What I liked
in anthropology was its inexhaustible faculty of negation, its relentless
definition ^{[place = supralinear] of} man, as though he were no better than God, in terms of what he
is not. [0889] But my ideas on this subject were always horribly confused, for
my knowledge of men was scant, and the meaning of being beyond me. [0890] Oh I've
tried everything. [0891] In the end it was magic that had the honour of my ruins,
and still today, when I walk there, I find its vestiges.

[0892] But mostly they
are a place with neither plan nor bounds and of which I understand nothing,
not even of what it is made, still less into what. [0893] And the thing in ruins,
I don't know what it is, what it was, nor whether it is not less a
question of ruins than the indestructible chaos of timeless things, if
that is the right expression. [0894] It is in any case a place devoid of