2023
Text by Laurent Devèze, sound design by Thomas Moësl
It is all a matter of knowing how to cast the ink:
This curious tale imposed itself upon me—or rather, *within* me—during those oppressive days when the thermometer hovered near 40°C. And it dragged on. The sea was our only solace—perhaps even our remedy. As the story unfolded, I felt distinctly that I was serving a voice rather than acting as the written source of a tale. I was far less in control than I was possessed by the narrative; I was not merely an author, in any case.
Rest assured: I do not ordinarily dabble in séances, and I possess the tentative mysticism typical of people today. Only the lingering traces of a deeply Hellenophile upbringing save me from a rationality that is far too technological. And so, I imagined myself a rhapsode—a bard—far more than a writer. Under these circumstances, nothing seemed more natural than to present this text to you orally; my primary aim was to tell you the story. I wanted to escape the written word and the heavy machinery of publishing—processes that might well have tainted, or even stifled, a voice so vibrant.
So, here is a taste of sea spray for you to experience out on the open water—whether in a single breath or gradually, like a thalassotherapy treatment. I sincerely hope this listening experience invigorates you and fills your sails to the very limit. For the very few aficionados who cling to the written word as if to a reassuring pier, they will have to settle for a modest lifebuoy: the option—available by ordering from the association (see below)—to receive a facsimile of the tale’s draft, the first version of *De Sable et d’Eau*, personally inscribed, of course, as a way of making amends. It is hard to decipher, yet fresh—taken straight from my hand. The manuscript is all but illegible and heavily crossed out. Yet only this almost instinctive handwriting can truly capture that haunting voice that refuses to leave me—a voice whose ghost, I simply hope, will come to haunt you as well.
Suddenly—right here, on my terrace—a cheeky, mocking seagull is trying to tame me. The sea, at this precise moment, is ever-present.
Source: https://www.hamadryades.org/
