Henri Duchemin and His Shadows (New York Review Books Classics) by Emmanuel Bove

Author:Emmanuel Bove [Bove, Emmanuel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590178331
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2015-08-10T22:00:00+00:00

WHAT I SAW

I don’t often write on an impulse like this. Something very serious has to have happened to me for me to decide to do so. So I shall ask, dear sir, for your indulgence. It is not an author you find before you. It is a man who is suffering and who is seeking the one word that will explain everything.

Slowly I had recovered from the great shock I’d had. Everything was going well. I felt strong again and then, suddenly, once more I began to doubt.

It would be impossible to explain why I am overwhelmed by anxiety. It returned, all-powerful, without my having any say in the matter. I was at home reading a book when, for no apparent reason, I realized I had not been mistaken. I tried not to think about it anymore, but you know that the harder you attempt to forget an ordeal, the more it clings to you.

Yes, I was reading a book that was as interesting to me as any book can be. I was so deep into this novel that I forgot where I was when, all of a sudden while turning a page, during that brief moment of distraction that interrupts the story with each new page, I had the clear realization that I had not been wrong.

I had seen the thing with my own eyes and as a result, it was true. My girlfriend could deny it all she wanted, but because I had seen it, it was true. The proof that I was wrong is all around me. My friends, to whom I made the mistake of telling this story, disagreed with me. My girlfriend’s parents hinted that I had taken leave of my senses. Even my Henriette, after having heatedly defended herself, in the end simply shrugged whenever I mentioned this scene.

And so I managed, by the strength of my will, to doubt my own eyes. Gradually I forgot what I had seen. I forced myself to think I had been wrong. Life became bearable again. My girlfriend was ever more loving.

And now, in some idiotic way, I have begun thinking about this episode again. And so, all my efforts have been in vain! That painstaking and salutary process I suffered through in order to find peace was for naught!

Ridiculously, I again find myself anxious and desperate, like on the first day.

Yet I believe I was wrong, that my girlfriend is innocent, and that I was the victim of a hallucination. I want to believe this, even though my eyes will not let me. But despite all my efforts, I feel I will always have before me that ludicrous vision that pains me so.

This is why I am writing to you, so as not to be alone with my doubts. And perhaps for you to give me some advice. I must confess that I feel the need to ask you to forgive me for writing. When a man suffers as I am suffering, writing should not be a consolation.

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