Journey Within

Journey Within

Journey Within

Journey Within


The first questions that enter my childish mind:

"Where did I come from? And where am I confined?-----"

I was born into a comfortable middle-class family, surrounded by loving relatives, in a pleasant part of the country whose joyous flavor I later tasted and celebrated through the voice of my Colas .

How does it happen that, from the moment of my birth, the first feeling--the strongest, most persistent of my early childhood--should be--dim, haunting, sometimes rebellious, sometimes resigned:

"I am a prisoner!"

Francis the First, on entering the tottering nave of my old Saint Martin of Clamecy, said (so the legend runs): "There's a fine trap!"--I was in "the Trap."

At the beginning, a visual impression: the first horizon presented to my childish view--a rather large paved court, with a garden in the middle, surrounded on three sides by three walls of the house that to me seemed very high. On the fourth side, the street and the houses opposite, separated by a canal. Although this quadrangle was terraced above . . .

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