[p. 56r]
[1040] it above all other herbs and flowers, because of its smell, and then also because of its p [place = crossed over] spikes, and its colour. [1041] And if I had not lost my sense of smell the smell of lavender would always make me think of Lousse, in accordance with the well-known mechanism of association. [1042] And she gathered this lavender when it bloomed I presume, left it to dry and then made it up into lavender-bags that she put in her cupboards to perfume her handkerchiefs, her undies and house-linen. [1043] But none the less from time to time I heard the chiming of the hours, from the clocks and belfries, chiming out longer and longer, then suddenly briefly, then longer and longer again. [1044] This will give some idea of the time she took to cozen me, of her patience and physical endurance, for all the time she was sitting squatting or kneeling beside me, whereas I was stretched out at my ease on the grass, now on my back, now on my stomach, now on one side, now on the other.
[1045] And all the time she never stopped tq [place = overwritten] alking, whereas I only opened my mouth to ask, at long intervals, more and more feebly, what town we were in. [1046] And sure of her victory at last, or simply feeling she had done all she could and that further insistence were nugatory, she got up and went away, I don't know where, for I stayed where I was, with regret, mild regret.
[1047] For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining it might be a little less horrible further on. [1048] So that I was never disappointed, so to speak, whatever I did, in this domaine 
.
[1049] And I let them have their way, this sorry couple, now one, now the other, so that they might understand their error.
[1050] And that night there was no question of moon, nor any other light, but it was a night of listening, a night given to the faint soughing and sighing stirring at night in little pleasure gardens, the shy sabbath of leaves and petals and the air that eddies there as
[p. 57r]
[1050] it does not in other places, where there is less constraint, and as it does not during the day, when there is more vigilance, and then something else that is not clear, being neither the air nor what it moves. [1051] Perhaps it is the far unchanging noise the earth makes and which other noises cover, but not for long. [1052] For they do not account for that noise you hear when you really listen, when all seems hushed. [1053] And there was another noise, that of my life become the life of this garden as it rode the earth of deeps and wilds.
[1054] Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was, but what I was, forgot to be. [1055] Then I was no longer that sealed jar to which I was indebted for being so well preserved, but a wall gave way and I was filled with roots and tame stems for example, stakes long since dead and ready for burning, the release of night and the imminence of dawn, and then the labour of the planet, rolling eager into winter, winter would rid it of these contemb [place = overwritten] ptible scabs.
[1056] Or I was of that winter the precarious calm, the thaw of the snows which make no difference and all the horrors of it all all over again. [1057] But that didn't happen to me often who stayed in my jar which knew neither seasons nor gardens. [1058] And a good thing too. [1059] But in there you have to watch out, ask yourself questions, as for example whether you still are, and if no, when it stopped, and if yes how long it will still go on, anything at all to keep you from losing the thread of the dream.
[1060] For my part I willingly asked myself questions, one after the other, just for the sake of looking at them. [1061] No, not willingly, wisely, so I might believe I was still there. [1062] And yet it meant nothing to me to be still there. [1063] I called that thinking. [1064] I thought almost without stopping, I did not dare stop. [1065] Perhaps that was the cause of my innocence. [1066] It was a little the worse for wear, a little threadbare perhaps, but I was
[p. 58r]
[1066] glad to have it, yes, I suppose. [1067] Thanks I suppose, as the urchin said when I picked up his marble, I don't know, I didn't have to, and I expect he would have preferred to pick it up himself. [1068] Or perhaps it wasn't to be picked up. [1069] And the effort it cost me, with my stiff leg. [1070] The words engraved themselves for ever on my memory, perhaps because I understood them at once, a thing I didn't often do. [1071] Not that I was hard of hearing, for I had quite a sensitive ear, and sounds unencumbered with precise meaning were registered perhaps better by me than by most. [1072] What was it then? [1073] A defect of the understanding perhaps, which only began to vibrate on repeated solicitations, or which did vibrate, if you like, but at a lesser frequency than that of ratiocination, if such a thing is conceivable, and such a thing is conceivable, since I conceive it. [1074] Yes, the words I heard, and heard distinctly, having quite a sensitive ear, were heard a first time, then a second, and often even a third, as pure sounds, free of all meaning, and this is probably one of the reasons conversation was unspeakably painful to me. [1075] And the words I uttered myself and which must nearly always have gone with an effort of the intelligence, were often to me as the buzzing of an insect. [1076] And this is perhaps one of the reasons I was so untalkative, I mean this trouble I had in understanding not only what others said to me, but also what I said to them. [1077] It is true that in the end, by dint of patience, we made ourselves understood, but understood about what, I ask of you, and to what purpose. [1078] And to the noises of nature too, and of the works of men, I reacted I think in my own way and without desire of enlightenment. [1079] And my eye too, the seeing one, must have been ill-connected with the spider, for I found it hard to name what was mirrored there, often quite distinctly. [1080] And without going so far as to say that I saw the world upside down (that would have been too easy) it is certain I saw it in a
[p. 59r]
[1080] way inordinately formal, while at the same time being in no wise an aesthete, or an artist. [1081] And of my two eyes only one functioning more or less satisfactorily, I ill-assessed the distance separating me from the other world, and often I stretched out my hand to what was far beyond my reach, and often I knocked against obstacles scarcely visible on the horizon.
[1082] But I was like that even when I had my two eyes, it seems to me, but perhaps not, for it is long since that era of my life, and my recollection of it is more than imperfect. [1083] And now I think of it, my attempts at taste and smell were scarcely more fortunate, I smelt and tasted without knowing exactly what, nor whether it was good, nor whether it was bad, and seldom twice running the same thing.
[1084] I would have been I think an excellent husband, incapable of wearying my wife and unfaithful only from absent-mindedness. [1085] Now as to telling you why I stayed a good while with Lousse, no, I cannot. [1086] That is to say I could I suppose, if I took the trouble. [1087] But why should I? [1088] In order to establish beyond all question that I could not do otherwise?
[1089] That is the conclusion I would come to, fatally. [1090] I who had loved the image of old Geulincx, dead young, who left me free, on the black boat of Y [place = overwritten] Ulysses, to crawl towards the e [place = overwritten] East, along the deck. [1091] That is a great measure of freedom, for him who has not the pioneering spirit. [1092] And from the poop, poring upon the wave, a sadly rejoicing slave, I follow with my eyes the proud and futile wake.
[1093] Which, as it bears me from no fatherland away, bears me onward to no shipwreck. [1094] A good while then with Lousse. [1095] It's vague, a good while, a few months perhaps, a year perhaps. [1096] I know it was warm again the day I left, but that meant nothing, in my part of the world, where it seemed to be warm or cold or merely mild at any moment of the year and where the days did not run gently up and down, no, not
[p. 60r]
[1096] gently. [1097] Perhaps things have changed since. [1098] So all I know is that it was much the same weather when I left as when I came in, so far as I was capable of knowing what the weather was. [1099] And I had been under the weather so long, under every weather, that I could tell quite well between them, my body could tell between them and seemed even to have its likes, its dislikes. [1100] I think I stayed in several rooms one after the other, or alternately, I don't know. [1101] In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one, open variously on the parading universe. [1102] The house was fixed, that is perhaps what I mean by these different rooms. [1103] House and garden were fixed, thanks to some unknown mechanism of compensation, and I, when I stayed still, as I did most of the time, was fixed too, and when I moved, from place to place, it was very slowly, as in a cage out of time, as the saying is, in the jargon of the schools, and out of space too to be sure. [1104] For to be out of one and not out of the other was for cleverer than me, who was not clever, but silly rather. [1105] But I might be quite wrong. [1106] And these different windows that open in my head, when I grope again among those days, really existed perhaps and perhaps do still, in spite of my being no longer there, I mean there looking at them, opening them and shutting them, or crouched in a corner of the room marvelling at the objects they revealed. [1107] But I will not dwell on this episode, so ludicrously brief when you think of it and so poor in substance. [1108] For I helped neither in the house nor the garden and knew nothing of what work was going forward, day and night, nothing save the sounds that came to me, dull sounds and sharp ones too, and then often the sounds of air being vigorously churned, it seemed to me, and which perhaps was nothing more than the sound of burning. [1109] I preferred the garden to the house, to judge by the long hours I spent there, for I spent there the greater part of the day and of the night,