So you have rendered this suffering in the only way you could, that is to say purely, free of all the compensations of hatred, revenge, irony and mockery. Any trace of coquetry, any concern for aesthetics, even the slightest legitimate search for effect, distorts metaphysical reflection, born of an exceptional trial of life. Suffering is only true and exemplary if it is subjected to insults and ridicule in the same way that an unarmed child receives blows, with a look of astonishment. The last resource of anyone who has understood the modern world is to expose himself to slaps. This was not the result of any deliberation, you reproduced yourself and it so happens that in this image there is nothing to subtract, nothing to add: it is in a way the mirror in which the miserable adventure of the modern world is reflected: your diagnosis is compassionate but implacable.
