488> Frants to UK under th mad muse of Molloy

12 July | Nantes, France> nous sommes réveillés en Dinan @ crack of dawn drove an hour or so to git to Mt St Michel 6 am b'fore th crowds .. park'd way out in ∫um convoluted parking lot felt like theme park parking then marchéd th long rode a'long th levy .. not a sole in site yet cept th workers scrambling to stock th restraunts w/ shitty frozen meals (peaking in th kitchens of most restraunts in France nowawdays u just see a wall of microwaves) .... dint git to witniss much tidel change cuz moon in ½-phase but seen her in movies + whatnot how th water gushes in turning St Michel into an i-land .. walk'd around up to th abbey + along th remparts then back to th car just as bus after bus of turists start'd to show up .... hit th Atlantic coast ∫um town call'd Le Croisic .. promenaded around (nuthing to wride home about) had déjeuner .. then to our hôtel in Nantes ....

st Michel




surrounding bay

> @ ∫um pt we switch'd from Deleuze to Beckett .. will git back to Delouse (on Bergson) lader .... fiiggerd Beckett apt fo France no? .. on Île de Ré we ½-xpectid to see Beckett himself sauntering round in short shorts + sandals .. satchel slung over sholdrr .. tho actually (googling now) that famous photo got taken in Tangiers .. tho ends up Beckett did spend significant time in Roussillon in hiding during WWII .. had we known @ th time we might of stop'd in Roussillon for mo than just a coffee + croissant (tho now we inpsired to read Watt, which he wrote there) .... chanuling his ghost .. rereading his trilogy .. starting w/ Molloy .. appreciating her even mo this time around .. sort of cumulativ affect he has .. difficile tho to read in chunks .. d'riving u dont have big blocks of time for reading .. wish we had Molloy as an audiobook but rilly expen$ive for ∫um raison .. we did listen to The Things They Carried cuz our better-½ had it alreddy on her iPad .. + we downloded Huck Finn but that seems strange to listen to in Frants or th UK no? .... we did downlode ∫um Virginia Woolf thinking weed listen to her in th UK .. but our plans got foil'd .. we ment Frants as a working holiday .. we probly woont have chosen to go to France just for th helluva her but our better-½ had a meeting in Montpellier + then ∫um meetings 2 weeks later in th UK so figgerd why not spend her in Frants? .. mozying our way spending ½ th day d'riving + siteseeing + th other ½ working .. waht we thawt in theory mais tout prend plus de temps en France .. dont git us start'd on how shitty + slow they drive .. specially in Brittany .. every1 driving under th speed limit in th fast lane + not pulling over .... that + lack of decent Inurnet ½ th time spent trying to connect staring @ progress screens .. confrence calls cutting in + out .. kin u hear me now? .. kin u hear me now? .. every place we got th same story th whole country backwoodass worse than living in Africa .... innyway so we cancel'd th 2° week of our UK trip .. we plan'd to go to Oxford + Wales but too much going on .. our better-½ got reports due + work piling up .. changed our flight to go home a week early ..

13 July | Brighton, UK> ahhh .. so happy to leave France .. th day b4 Bastille day no less .. ½-way thru th Tour de France (wich a French rider hasnt won since 1985) .. complete fiasco @ end of Montpellier to Mt Vernoux phase .. th tour just stupid @ this pt between th doping + dumbass spectators .... in all we drove over 2600+ km in our own tour de Frants .. no inklewding th menny daily sidetrips .... our parting gesture a completely incompetent checkin-attendant @ th Nantes airport not even worth going into but another 1 of these rude shoulder-shrugging «il n'y a rien que je puisse faire» situations .. complete apathy + incompetence .. then b4 even on UK soil th brit flight attendants super nice + polite + helpful .. + then landing @ Gatwick suddenly everything functional + every1 u encounter considerate + competent .. if in th last post or 2 we griped that we thawt th French = th most inconsiderate + incompetent douchebags ever we met, most every1 in th UK = super polite + everything afishant .. perhaps 2° only to Japan .... from Gatwick our better ½ had to go to London to speak in front of parliament so she took th train to Victoria stn + we stood on th opposit platform w/ our baggidge + took a ∆iffrent train to Brighton .. check'd into our hotel on Jubilee st then went for a run along th boardwalk east to th Marina .. 1-way slogging on th wide swaths of pebbles typickle of Brighton beach .. conjuring Molloy's obsessif compulsif stone-stucking episode .... back @ th hotel again every1 courteous .. in-room coffee so we dont have to wait until 9 am for things to open! .. Inurnet that actually works super-fast! .. a host of restraunt options (chose veggie Indian to make up for all th meat we had to eat in France) .... boutiquey buddha-themed hotel all modern .. our view looks rite into an office bldg .. ppl actually work here! .... ok so wheel quit bitching now .. + we kin actually work .. no need to see th sites in Brighton cuz we visit'd 1 ± 2 x b4 .. kin git back to A Raft Manifest .... whereas Joyce figgerd prominently in our last project 'SSES" 'SSES" "SSEY' + now Finngegans Wake influenzing A Raft Manifest .. wondering how Beckett fits in .. after ∀ll Becket help'd Joyce w/ research + notes for Finnegan's Wake .... th same crisis Beckett went thru riding in th wake of Joyce perhaps we also grappling with on our own terms ..

«I realized that Joyce had gone as far as one could in the direction of knowing more, [being] in control of one’s material. He was always adding to it; you only have to look at his proofs to see that. I realized that my own way was in impoverishment, in lack of knowledge and in taking away, in subtracting rather than in adding.»

> tres bizarre que Beckett a écrit en français .. or knot .. he rode in French so his riding wd lack style .. up until now this approach comes opposit to ours weather we kumtux her or not .. non même pas sûr que landgauge we use .. til now a hodge-podge of waht we inhairit ja not even 2 an age where we self-conchus of «style» .. but now that we coming 2 an age of self-conchusnest w/ teachers hitting our hands w/ rulers when we ride incorrect do we start to develip a style? .... so far this year (case u coont tell form th photos) we thinking mostly in grayscale .. shunning color .. peut-être pour la même raison que Beckett's last wish riguarding his gravestone that she = «any colour, so long as it's grey.»

Brighton boredwalk


Brighton beach


Brighton streets

«I had been living so far from words so long, you understand, that it was enough for me to see my town, since we’re talking of my town, to he unable, you understand. It’s too difficult to say, for me. And even my sense of identity was wrapped in a namelessness often hard to penetrate, as we have just seen I think. And so on for all the other things which made merry with my senses. Yes, even then, when already all was fading, waves and particles, there could be no things but nameless things, no names but thingless names. I say that now, but after all what do I know now about then, now when the icy words hail down upon me, the icy meanings, and the world dies too, foully named. All I know is what the words know, and the dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning, a middle and an end as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead. »—Molloy


«.. sucking-stones abound on our beaches, when you know where to look for them.. »—Molloy


«When a man in a forest thinks he is going forward in a straight line, in reality he is going in a circle, I did my best to go in a circle, hoping to go in a straight line.»―Molloy

14 July> arrived UK th day after England got a new PM .. 1° woman since Margaret Thatcher .. who in our mind we confuse w/ Nancy Reagan .. + also a new mayor of London recently 1° muslim .. not to menshun th aftermath of Brexit .... went a walking round Brighton then west along th beach .. marching on th gravelly field of stones .. even try'd a few .. put them in our mouth + suck'd on them just like Molloy (tastid salty) .. walk'd on varyus degrees of gravel .. sand > finer pebbles > proper rocks .. th sound changing w/ each txture .. lulling us along w/ th waves .... 1 time in Mexico coming down off a volcano (Citlaltépetl) we told an old man we had altitude sickness + he told us to put a stone in our armpit to alleviate th sickness .... walk'd back thru th town by Jimmy's old haunts from Quadrophenia .. tho this trip probly wont make it out to th white cliffs where Jimmy dump'd Sting's moped .. also where Throbbing Gristle posed for th cover of 20 Jazz Funk Greats .... ate Mexikin for dinner ..


Brighton stn

«It's so nice to know where you're going, in the early stages. It almost rids you of the wish to go there.»―Molloy




15 July | London> woke to news of another terrorist attack, in Nice .. on th promenade in front of th hotel where we stay'd just ~2 weeks ago .. not suprised .. th whole time in France we saw only 1 ± 2 cops .. kept commenting on it .. + every hotel we check'd into they show'd us strait to room w/o aksing for passport or ID (whereas everywhere else in th world they aks) .. prez Hollande condemnd th attacks but pays his personal hair stylist 10,000 €uros a month, to cut waht hair? .. better to spend such monies on police, no? .. not that a police presence wd uv matterd but got to wonder how come France keeps gitting hit .... walk'd east past th Marina .. out past Rottingdean windmill where Nick Cave's son met his friend + took LSD + then tragickly stumbled off a cliff @ Ovingdean Gap .. some old flowers piled @ th fence where he fell .. sad story .... walk'd back on th path under th cliffs .... then hop'd a train to London .. reading more of Molloy .. th 2° part narrated by Moran ..

Ovingdean Gap from where Arthur Cave fell


Rottingdean windmill now as tombstone

16 July> reading Molloy this a.m. thinking perhaps what detracts us in past readings of Beckett = his imitators .. we keep gitting reminded of those that imitate him + this diminishes th originul .. ironic cunsidering Beckett strove to write sans style .... whereas who can imitate Joyce? .... th other thing about Beckett (sides his lack of style) = his lack of structure or plot .. wich makes us feel ungroundid .. d'rifting @ sea .. fail better or worse .. this drifting state best d'scribes where we @ w/ A Raft Manifest .. up shit's creek w/o a paddle .. floading aimless sans sail .. 4 better or worse .. flailing .... Moran = Beckett if u aks us .. tryng to udderstand th mad musings of h vagrant cripple Molloy .. yet another hobopunk-a-bestia or punk-à-chien as they call them in Frants .... sides gitting distract'd by imitators we distract'd by waht we know about th ℝeal Beckett .. that he got stab'd + almost died + Joyce footed the hospital bill .. that he used to drive André th Giant to school in his truck + they talked only of cricket .. that he thwarted th advances of Joyce's psycho dotter .. ∀ll this cumulates + cumpiles .. compounding our intrest .. «what a rabble in my head, what a gallery of moribunds» .. + now we tracking Beckett (via Moran) tracking Molloy 1° step father remoofed .. «He reflected. Second-hand, he said [in rigaurds to bying a bi-psycho], at a venture. And if you can't find one second-hand? I said. You told me second-hand, he said.» .. second-hand also dubbling (on top of hand-me-down) as th hand on a clock .. + here we muster to make ¢ense of 2°-hand news .. tracking th trazes left (± rite) beehind in time ....

approaching Victoria stn


Kings Cross


construxion everywhere

> @ th start of this trip we sed we felt we grappling with #2 of th 4 noble truths .. understanding suffering .. + in menny ways Molloy art about just that .. th choice of knee as focal pt of pain no coincidents .. + Moran assumes this pain .. becomes 1 + th same as Molloy (or vice-versa) .. to th pt he cant bend his knee .. so he cant kneel .. why else do we git down on our knees xcept in submission? ..

> went to Hyde park + laid in th grass .. finish'd Molloy .. went to Paddington to see our better-½ off .. she's off to Nepal for 2 days .. ½ that time probly in th air gitting there + back .. dint figger it worthwile for me to go along so hanging here in th UK .... tubed out to th Angel area + met Julie Reverb for Georgian food + a pint ..

Hyde park


«But in the end I understood this language. I understood it, I understand it, all wrong perhaps. That is not what matters. It told me to write the report. Does this mean I am freer now than I was? I do not know. I shall learn. Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.»—Molloy

 487 <( )> 489 > not bathing in Bath @ th x-sexion b'twine canal + rever sans deforming ether, pa!


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