(92) Limits of the World

“It has occurred to you to have a splendid idea, one you dream of turning into a book? Do not hurry to put it into practice; there is no need, for you may be certain that, sooner or later, someone else will have the same idea… and will make perfect use of it.
I speak from experience. For eighteen years I cherished the project of writing the story of the wreck of the Batavia. I collected almost everything that was published on the subject; then I travelled to the Houtman Abrolhos Islands, the site of the shipwreck. Over the years I continued to accumulate notes, yet without ever resolving to write the first page of that famous work in gestation which, in the increasingly sarcastic imagination of my relatives, gradually began to assume mythical proportions. From time to time I would learn that a new book had appeared on my subject; a cold sweat would come over me, and I would rush to it trembling. But no, it was only a false alarm; I quickly realized, with relief, that the author had once again missed the target, which only strengthened my false sense of security. Once or twice, however, I felt the bullet pass close by, but I failed to draw the lesson from it.”

Simon Leys, The Wreck of the Batavia

Lucian suddenly made the decision to travel to the Archipelago. He believes that in this way he will be able to decipher the mystery contained in the drawings and in the stories Igniatius tells him… And, to his great surprise, under these very particular circumstances, he encounters him there… A most cordial encounter, moreover.

— Is there a world beyond our own?
— To know that, we would first have to know whether ours has limits…
— And if that were the case?
— Then indeed the question would arise.
— And what would your answer be?
— I think it is difficult… if not impossible, to imagine such a thing. To begin with, I believe we would have to determine what we believe on the basis of what might be certain… what might be incontestable and upon which we could rely…
— And then?
— Then… unfortunately, I do not think we would be any further advanced…
— Are we condemned to be castaways for eternity?
— Castaways… perhaps… but eternity… you are being rather presumptuous… Our life, like every other life, is limited… Certainly, each day we may send a few words into the world, but will those words find readers?
— Nothing is less certain…
— And… if they do find readers… would those readers be true readers?..
— There are few of them…