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Location: Eastbourne, United Kingdom

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

The End.


Anonymous Lichte Fantast said...

Mooi in harmonie met vorig prent.

10/11/2006 11:04:00 AM  
Blogger Aniksker said...

the end? jets arois fin cocoon in er rift dus 'the end'. dus iz der onheib!!!!!!!!!

ib! when will you learn to fly?

10/11/2006 11:27:00 AM  
Anonymous kolmevasser said...

at the end you turn into a butterfly..

10/11/2006 03:49:00 PM  
Blogger maxentia said...

Misschien het einde voor dit jaar, maar in de lente met de rupsen een nieuw begin.

10/11/2006 06:41:00 PM  
Anonymous Noirtier de Villefort said...

... from Bauby, Jean-Dominique
"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"...:

The diving bell of Bauby's title is his corporeal trap, the butterfly his imagination: ''There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court.'' Childhood fantasies of war heroism alternate with elaborate dreams of cooking, in which his pantry is a previous lifetime's memories of smells, tastes and textures: ''You can sit down to a meal at any hour, with no fuss or ceremony. If it's a restaurant, no need to call ahead. . . . The boeuf bourguignon is tender, the boeuf en gelee translucent, the apricot pie possesses just the requisite tartness.'' It's as if he'd reversed the most famous moment in Proust and used memory to bring back the madeleine.

10/12/2006 08:55:00 AM  
Blogger Aniksker said...

how apt. the trap of corporeality.

10/12/2006 10:46:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

In December 1995, at the age of 43, the author suffered a sudden and severe stroke in the brain stem and emerged from a coma several weeks later to find himself in a rare condition called "locked-in syndrome" (LIS). Although his mind was intact, he had lost virtually all physical control, able to move only his left eyelid. There was no hope of significant recovery. This memoir, composed and dictated the following summer, consists of Bauby's brief and poignant reflections on his condition and excursions into the realms of his memory, imagination, and dreams.

The composition of this book was an extraordinary feat in itself. Unable to write or speak, Bauby composed each passage mentally and then dictated it, letter by letter, to an amanuensis who painstakingly recited a frequency-ordered alphabet until Bauby chose a letter by blinking his left eyelid once to signify "yes." In what was likely another heroic act of will, Bauby survived just long enough to see his memoir published in the spring of 1997.

10/14/2006 06:44:00 PM  

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