Was it a matter of imagination?
Every writer, like every sovereign, tells himself that it is not in vain to have a good subject…
Do you remember, dear companions?
Nothing can give rise to as many dreams as imagination. But what is imagination? A beam of light… one or several voices coming from elsewhere, memories whose shape is freed from the chains of reason? In a single instant, in a sublime apotheosis, desires and fantasies will turn the simple man into a god of Olympus… who will imprint his seal upon the crowned man. The reign will be short-lived… Upon awakening, the sublime throne deflates like a balloon…