A long time since I've read this
fast, 144 pages in 66 minutes. But
then, Modiano is easy. Flows
swiftly, and there is nothing under
the darkly reflecting surface. No
depths, no objects glittering
at the bottom. I like to say
that if you want to know why
we need history writing, just
read Modiano. His characters
all lost, unmoored in time.
(Artificially, so often, like
in here.) And if you give
them a map, they turn back,
asking the taxi driver to take
them back to the station.
They prefer to search,
that's their point, raison
d'Être. Search. Circling
around something. Like
the boat that so terrified me
at the end of Night Moves
as a child, going endlessly
in circles as you fail
to steer it.
03.04.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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