quinta-feira, novembro 02, 2006

...the sleeping life of plants...

«It was the cyclamen plants that absorbed him hypnotically - the dark cores of the pink and the more purple circles of the white, the petals turned back, the leaves mottled in many shades of green. They were said by Larousse to belong to the primrose family. They grew from corms. Someone had once suggested to him that these green beings produced their leaves and flowers in a state of sleep, perfection devoid of consciousness, design without nerves. Put a handful of dirt in the pot, and they came up with this beauty. Who had said that, about the sleeping life of plants? Brooding over the cyclamens, he often dozed; he felt too hazy to remember anything. He thought, if you had enough of these plants in a room and watered them with a Nembutal solution, they might cure insomnia, make a dream atmosphere.»

(Saul Bellow, The Dean's December)

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