Incipit

This is the first and last time that I shall use this tone, because I won’t be able to afford it again. I have known, at less than thirty years old, what some may not have known all their lives through: the party is over. I’m standing barefoot on the tiled floor and I’m going to catch a cold, but I can’t stay silent any longe. Tonight I won’t be a carp, it’s over. Tonight, I’m staging myself as an absolutely subjective “I”, that is to say as related to the subject defined as a thinking Being, although I know very well that we are the stuff with which society dresses its models.”
 For a long time, I knew that one day I would have to return to this “Squaring” which in 1996  has literally “saved” my life. Paroxysmally haunted by suicide that summer, I can assert that writing this text has kept me breathing for months.

Back cover

The writer walks forward through the “dark general disorder, fathoms the dark depths of the body and attempts the impossible, self-grasping oneself. Most rarely has existence been so fiercely questioned. Lorette Nobécourt brings us fulgurant visions back from this journey to the end of life.