Roberto Bolano and the Moment of the Threshold

I have written several times on the image of the threshold, both in a more or less philosophical mode (On the Threshold and  The Door, the Threshold, the Between) and also in a more poetical mode  (On the Scaffold), and I ran across a passage in Roberto Bolano’s 2666 that seemed a particularly beautiful description of this image and the moment of its experience.  I will not offer any discussion or analysis, just Bolano’s own words.  They are sufficient to themselves, I think, as sufficient as words can be.

“From dusk to dusk, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, an eternity, like the minutes of those condemned to die, like the minutes of women who have just given birth and are condemned to die, who understand that more time is not more eternity and nevertheless wish with all their souls for more time, and their wails are birds that come flying every so often across the double lakeside landscape, so calmly, like luxurious excrescences or heartbeats.”

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