Exile ends the tyranny of the émigré novel; reading is self-defeating and itself becomes a byway to neurosis. Anne Tyler’s Breathing Lessons (from nineteen eighty eight) and EB’s Marlene Dietrich lived here compete with melatonin for space on the bedside table. Eric Alliez’s Capital Times, a dense, incisive, distinctly French, treatment of St. Augustine, our holiest Bishop, founder and architect of incipient modernity. Something to really wake you up in the mornings: industrial strength caffeine to counter chemically-enhanced Cynicism.

Chris Groves’ agent wrote with news that Northwestern University Press is poised to publish his first book. Well done! (I jest about the agent) Incidentally, Chris and I once trekked through Berlin snow to visit Hegel’s grave on the 167th anniversary of his death.

The following anniversary fell during the week and I arrived after the Dorotheenstädtisch Friedhof along Chausseestraße had closed. Darkness was no obstacle as the cemetery walls were scaled in the service of the Absolute.