Alma

Here are cross stories, that of Jeremiah, in search of Raphus cucullatus , aka the bird of nausea, the Mauritian dodo formerly exterminated by humans, and that of Dominique, aka Dodo, the admirable hobo, born to make people laugh. Their commonplace is Alma, the ancient domain of Felsen on Mauritius, which modern times have changed into Maya, the land of illusions: "In the garden of the White House the winter sun passes over my face, soon the sun will go out, every night the sky becomes golden yellow. I am in my island, it is not the island of the wicked, the Armando, Faucet of Bosses, Staircase, it is not the island of Missie Kestrel or Missie Zan, Missie Hanson, Monique or Véronique, it is Alma, my Alma, Alma fields and streams, pools and black woods, Alma in my heart, Alma in my belly. Everyone can die, pikni, but not you, Artemisia, not you. I remain motionless in the golden sun, my eyes lifted to the inside of my head since I can not sleep, one day my soul will go through a hole in my head, to go to heaven where are the stars."--Translation of page 4 of cover by Gallimard.