The vacuum that occurs at its frontiers – a kind of numbness which is generated on its torpid surface as if it had lost the sense of touch – lost contact.Īnd when one commences to slide into the bottomless abyss of doom there is no way to stop… It's what happens to something that's felt itself gathered together too long, too exclusively.
The main character lives among the ruins of stale traditions and decayed formalities so he unconsciously commences to fight his day-to-day routine of existence. Beyond these realms of lugubrious reeds extended the desert sands, ever more sterile, and – like the decor of a navigable death – behind a sparkling mirage of mist, the peaks to which I could no longer deny a name. Yet even the melancholy of that flaming sun over a dead land failed to extinguish in me a throb of happiness I felt in complicity with the tendency of this country to absolute desolation. The Opposing Shore has a quite unique atmosphere – it is written in the baroque language of the nineteenth century classical novels and at the same time it is fraught with the Kafkian surreal suspense of the kind that permeates The Castle and it even boasts some whiffs of beautifully enigmatic Gormenghast.
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