The Art Of The Critic In A

History Breaks Down Into Images, Not Into Stories.

Bourgeois Existence Is The Regime Of Private Affairs . . . And The Family Is The Rotten, Dismal Edifice In Whose Closets And Crannies The Most Ignominious Instincts Are Deposited. Mundane Life Proclaims The Total Subjugation Of Eroticism To Privacy.

There Is No Muse Of Philosophy, Nor Is There One Of Translation.

It Is Precisely The Purpose Of The Public Opinion Generated By The Press To Make The Public Incapable Of Judging, To Insinuate Into It The Attitude Of Someone Irresponsible, Uninformed.

Less And Less Frequently Do We Encounter People With The Ability To Tell A Tale Properly. More And More Often There Is Embarrassment All Around When The Wish To Hear A Story Is Expressed. It Is As If Something That Seemed Inalienable To Us, The Securest Among Our Possessions, Were Taken From Us: The Ability To Exchange Our Experiences...experience Has Fallen In Value. And It Looks As If It Is Continuing To Fall Into Bottomlessness.