OCR
ENIKŐ SEPSI in their ability to be set in correspondence with each other, and in their variations."! After a similar set of 246 sentences placed one after the other without any connection to each other, the character of the novelist in The Imaginary Operetta symbolically purges himself,” and the Woman of Panagonia drenches the Endless Novelist with water, baptizing him while saying: “Come and be cleansed of this flood of words.” In the comic supper scene of The Enraged Space, the black plate belongs to Judas, while all the rest are white. The symbol of the Last Supper means that by means of eating, God lives inside our bodies. In his essay Fragile Shelter Novarina relates the word “stage” (skéné) to the Hebrew word meaning “divine presence”: Now let us examine the word éoxrvwoev (eskéndsen) more closely: He came to live among us. Eskéndsen derives from XKnvn (skéné), and in the letters o, k, v (sigma, kappa, nu) the rabbis quickly recognized in the word wn (sekina) the letters sin v, kaf > and nun 3, which in the Kabbala mean DIVINE PRESENCE. The shadow of one language behind the other always illuminates from within: one verb acts behind another, a hidden tale beneath it, the Hebrew beneath the Greek, the Greek beneath the Latin, the Latin beneath the French; the Septuagint, the Vulgate, the Masoretic texts complement each other and respond to each other — this deeply embedded counterpoint is what gives the speech of the Bible its depth, its entire perspective, its temporal spectrum, and it is because of this that it very quickly branches out in several directions like a fugal composition or mountainous terrain, where space deepens, vanishes, and renews itself under the walker’s and listener’s steps. (...) XKnvn, skéné, is also the theatrical stage, the theater’s volatile construction, its graceful abode. The stage is a fragile shelter, an occasional mechanism, a hut — and if it had a theatrical holiday in the year, says “Louis de Funés”, then one would have to choose Sukkot, the holiday of tents. De Funés says, “The actor’s abode is always an airy tent, a breathing house that he carries with himself. The flesh-and-blood body, which is our light residence, tiny house, and our body, is nothing other than the poor earth. Neither foundation nor plank, neither for people nor actors, nor for the children, nor for anyone, ever.”°* 51 “C’est un livre quise dédouble, qui rime, qui miroite et refléte toutes les images, multiplie ses échos jusqu’au profond du corps. On touche à la joie du pluriel ; on comprend que le pluriel n’est pas incohérence, mais joie.” [It isa book which splits, which rhymes, which mirrors and reflects all the images, multiplies its echoes down to the depths of the body. One apprehends the joy of the plural; one comprehends that the plural is not incoherence, but joy.] (Valére Novarina — Olivier Dubouclez: Paysage parlé, Chatou, Les Éditions de la Transparence, 2011, 131.) 5? [“Voyez” dit Jean ; “Soyez attentifs!” ajouta Jacques ; “S'arrêtera-t-elle?” demanda Pierre], Valère Novarina: L’Opérette imaginaire [The Imaginary Operetta], Paris, P.O.L, 1998, 147. 53 Novarina: Opérette imaginaire, 160. 54 Valère Novarina: Demeure fragile [Fragile Shelter], in Devant la parole, Paris, P.O.L, 1999, 109. Trans. Peter Czipott. + 100 +