Dans la Seine, in cold
While I was reading Theodora Economides's Welcome to Ramallah, originally written in French, I was surprised to see in details the long and mischievous interviews the travellers to Palestine had to survive in order to be allowed by the Israeli authorities to enter the prohibited land, with the nine letters. Their methods of verbal terrorism in the name of law and order reminded me of Javert, in Hugo's Les Miserables. Today I found another similarity, which I read in melancholy, as if literature reproduces itself or, to put it in Oscar Wilde's words, as if life imitates art. The Israeli Defence Attache in France, David Dahan,who was missing for more than a month, was found dead in Rouen, in Seine. No particular evidence is there for criminal action and most probably it was a suicide; his close ones informed the police that he was going through depression recently. Exactly like Javert in his last steps, on the Pont Notre Dame. It is a remark that did not make me happy.
Labels: Hugo, Life imitates Art, Literature