Tag: existentialism

But I no longer think of myself. I think of the man out there who wrote this tune, one day in July, in the black heat of his room. I try to think of him through the melody, through the white, acidulated sounds of the saxophone. He made it… . It would interest me to find out the type of troubles he had… . I don’t suppose it would make the slightest difference to him if he were told that in the seventh largest city of France, in the neighbourhood of a station, someone is thinking about him. But I’d be happy if I were in his place; I envy him. I have to go. I get up, but I hesitate an instant, I’d like to hear the Negress sing. For the last time. She sings. So two of them are saved: the Jew and the Negress. Saved. Maybe they thought they were lost irrevocably, drowned in existence. Yet no one could think of me as I think of them, with such gentleness… . [T]hey have washed themselves of the sin of existing. Not completely, of course, but as much as any man can.