The Erasers (1964) by Alain Robbe-Grillet

Author:Alain Robbe-Grillet [Robbe-Grillet, Alain]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mysteries & Detective
ISBN: 9780802150868
Google: nSPOxZRJK5QC
Amazon: 0802150861
Goodreads: 101996
Publisher: Grove Press
Published: 1966-01-01T12:00:00+00:00

As the policeman had said, Wallas immediately reaches another intersection. If he turned right into the Rue Bernadotte, it would take him straight back and allow him to reach the Rue de Corinthe, after a slight detour; but now he can not be any closer to the clinic than to the post office, and besides, he does not know the neighborhood well enough: he might find himself face to face with that policeman again. His invention of the poste restante was not very satisfactory: if he had had mail sent to him there, he would have known the address, instead of knowing its location only approximately.

What kind of spell is it that is forcing him to give explanations wherever he goes today? Is it a particular arrangement of the streets in this city that obliges him to be always asking his way, so that at each reply he finds himself led into new detours? Once before he has wandered among these unexpected bifurcations and blind alleys, where you got lost even more certainly when you happened to walk straight ahead. Only his mother was worried about it. Finally they had reached that dead end of a canal; the low houses, in the sun, reflected their old façades in the green water. That must have been in summer, during the school vacation; they had stopped (on their way to the seashore, farther south, where they went every year) to visit some relative. He thought he remembered that she was annoyed, that there was something about a legacy or something of the kind. But did he ever know just what it was? He does not even remember now if they had ever found the woman, or if they had left empty-handed (they had only a few hours between trains). Besides, are these real memories? That day might have been described to him often: “You remember when we went…”

No. The dead end of the canal he had seen himself, and the houses reflected in the still water, and the low bridge that closed off the end…and the abandoned hull of the old boat…. But it is possible that this happened on another day, in another place—or even in a dream.

Here is the Rue Janeck and the wall of the recreation courtyard where the Indian chestnuts are shedding their leaves. “Citizens Awake.” And here is the plaque ordering drivers to slow down.

At the end of the drawbridge, the workman in the dark blue pea jacket and the visored cap makes a gesture of recognition.

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