IX
Waking in the Castle30 December 1989
Waking up this morning was not easy. For a long time I was constantly coming to the brink of consciousness and yet something made me hold onto sleep; I had a succession of dreams where many elements of my book were confused in strange and paradoxical ways. Finally, though still not quite awake, I managed to ask the question: where am I? At the very moment I decided with a pleasant feeling of surprise that I was in the Norman Castle, I opened my eyes and was greeted by a cloudless sky with the wall against which I’d spent the night in my sleeping bag outlined in silhouette. The heavy dew was making me damp. I was not cold in the least though, so I enjoyed the dampness that was already disappearing in the areas exposed to the sun. And now I feel the
