Edward St. Aubyn (b. 1960)

A Clue to the Exit

London

Chatto & Windus

2000

"Mad thoughts. Sparks from the wheel."

I couldn't walk fast enough to keep ahead of the vicious panic which filled every cell in my body, and every possible world I could imagine, chasing me round the Cap like one of the chiens méchants advertised on every gatepost. I was on the edge, no longer playing with metaphors or describing states of mind, but stumbling along a twisting coastal path, the sea sirening me to slip, or more candidly, to dive, on to the rocks. I imagined my blood mingling with the sea; wondered how little time it would take for the salt and the sun to bleach my corpse. Would the crabs feasting on my brain find themselves, as they sucked the morsels of Broca's area or Wernicke's area from their busy claws, troubled by the problem of consciousness, or burdened by the need to finish On the Train? It seemed no more likely than my wanting to fulfil the aspirations of the langoustines I had for lunch. But perhaps I was fulfilling their aspirations. Perhaps that's what made me want to dive off the cliff back into the sea. Mad thoughts. Sparks from the wheel.
(p. 107)

Fire::Sparks

Reading

Edward St. Aubyn, A Clue to the Exit (London: Chatto & Windus, 2000).

09/19/2015