Nicolas Klotz

Nicolas Klotz

Eng

THE WOUND AS A DISPLACEMENT: ON NICOLAS KLOTZ AND ÉLISABETH PERCEVAL’S NOUS DISONS RÉVOLUTION

By José Sarmiento Hinojosa

Before they reached the Negro they stopped, because he began to sing. They could see him, naked and mud-caked, sitting on a log, singing. They squatted silently a short distance away, until he finished. He was chanting something in his own language, his face lifted to the rising sun. His voice was clear, full, with a quality wild and sad.

William Faulkner – Red Leaves

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