Fitzcarraldo Editions

Where has it come from, this whole landscape of wounds?

– he says.

From bodies without passion, which are also landscape.

A person’s face does not exist in itself,’ Alfred Hitchcock said, ‘only when a light shines on it.’ An activity that is common but nonetheless just as strange as shining a light on people’s faces is the packaging up of things; we package up everything. The internet is only millions of metres of cable that package up the globe. Or take plants, which, left to grow unchecked, would package it up too. Or when people embrace: what is an embrace but the packaging up of the other, giving them a shape unknown to all but you. Or what is choosing one’s gender but the packaging up of
17
sex. Meaning there is no need to wrap things up as gifts or send them in the post in order to give them an outline or an identity; light does that for us already. There is no face, once illuminated, that does not fill the beholder’s eyes with love. (Parcel love)

You and I are nothing.

– he says.

In a world whose only desire is to devour everything, it’s better to be nothing.

– she says.

And the years go by, and adult love arrives, which does everything within its power to invert this process, to turn it on its head: when two people are in love they are forever seeking a return to childhood, to create new names, new sexes, to invent a private language, to recast from inside all that is known and create a new roof for them alone; a place to take shelter. This is why the image, present in every culture throughout history, of a couple loving one another under what appears to be a sheet has nothing to do with modesty around nakedness but – in this improvised cave that is theirs and theirs alone – with
18
rebelling against the language imposed in childhood. (Contra-language love)

Meaning that when we transmit information, we also transmit all of those forgotten worlds, although in a manner that we are still yet to completely comprehend. This forgetting is me introduced into the heads of others, is my life enclosed in that place, or the part of me accessible only to the person who – in the experience of love – has me inside their head, even though this person (I know) may have forgotten me forever. (Oblivion love)

This science we call economics exists and makes sense only in a world where resources are scarce; if goods and commodities were infinite, there would be no logic to it as a discipline, as it would lose its subject and have nothing to either study or regulate. Our societies have seemingly been constructed on the basis of this congenital scarcity in the world. In western culture, it’s already there in the Bible; from the garden that is bountiful without being worked to the disapproval of working for one’s daily bread, which will materialize without anyone breaking a sweat. The apparent crisis in the music industry, with its origins in the early 21st century, and the also apparently infinite availability of songs on the Internet, is only the panic experienced in the face of the move from an economy of (musical) scarcity – run by a handful of individuals – to an economy of abundance – the infinite reproduction of sounds at no apparent cost; a situation in which the economic sciences as currently conceived would cease to have any practical or philosophical meaning. Gender theories have something revealing to offer here: from the masculine/feminine binary, or an economy of sexual identity based on a limited number of genders, to the potentially infinite spectrum of genders in-between that an individual may adopt, a kind of economy of (gender) abundance comes about in which learnt social norms lose
20
all validity, giving rise to a panic among those who do not wish to or are unable to give up control of that particular privation. There is a certain structural link between all of this and the incipient field of quantum computing. The foundational property of these future computers is the ability to work not only in binary states, not solely with ones and zeros, but also using everything between the two poles of one and zero, making for potentially infinite possibilities that in turn give rise to worlds and planes of reality not only previously unknown but unimagined, though not therefore impossible. What we could call Gender Abundance Love would therefore be the forerunner, the analogue speartip, as it were, of this other digital abundance towards which computers are heading. (Gender Abundance Love)

It’s perfectly simple,’ he explained ‘almost every morning I wake up feeling shit and think about packing in my drinking, my eating and my smoking. But then I remember my grandfather, who was in the Wehrmacht and died at Stalingrad, and I contemplate the terrible suffering and deprivation he must have experienced for months before finally being killed. Surely, I admonish myself, it’s up to you to experience all the pleasures he was denied? And then I reach for my cigarettes.’

she thinks, no matter what she can still be safe and solid in herself, the way she was before he disappeared, but then it comes back to her, how he disappeared, that Tuesday, in late November, in 1979, and all at once she is back in the emptiness, she thinks, and she looks at the hall door and then it opens and then she sees herself come in and shut the door behind her and then she sees herself walk into the room, stop and stand there and look at the window and then she sees herself see him standing in front of the window and she sees, standing there in the room, that he is standing and looking out into the darkness, with his long black hair, and in his black sweater, the sweater she knit herself and that he almost always wears when it’s cold, he is standing there, she thinks, and he is almost at one with the darkness outside, she thinks, yes he is so at one with the darkness that when she opened the door and looked in she didn’t notice at first that he was standing there, even though she knew, without thinking it, without saying it to herself, she knew in a way that he’d be standing there like that, she thinks, and that his black sweater and the darkness outside the window would be almost one, he is the darkness, the darkness is him, but still that’s how it is, she thinks, it’s almost as though when she came in and saw him standing there she saw something unexpected, and that’s what’s really strange, because he stands there like that all the time, there in front of the window, it’s just that she usually doesn’t see it, she thinks, or that she sees it but doesn’t notice it somehow, because it’s also that his standing there has become a kind of habit, like most anything else, it has become something that just is, around her, but now, this time, when she came into the room she saw him standing there, she saw his black hair, and then the black sweater, and now he just stands there and looks out into the darkness and why is he doing that?

A lot of times when someone says something they don’t really mean anything by it, probably, he says
Probably almost never, he says
They just say something, just to say something, that’s true, Signe says
That’s what it’s like, yes, Asle says
They have to say something, Signe says
They have to, Asle says
That’s how it is, he says
and she sees him stand there and sort of not entirely know what to do with himself and then he raises one hand and lowers it again

he can be so unsure of himself, not knowing what he should say or do, but there’s not any resentment of her in him, she’s certainly never noticed any, she thinks, but then why would he want to be out on the fjord all the time? in that little boat he got himself, a little wooden boat, a rowboat, she thinks and she sees, lying there on the bench, herself standing there in the middle of the floor in the room and then she sees herself go over to the window and stand there and look out and now there is a little light outside, she thinks, standing there in front of the window, now it has got as light as it can probably get at this time of year, it’s brightened up so much that you can see the sky in its grey and black

I was drawn to Latin because it didn’t belong to anybody, there were no native speakers to laugh at me.