La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams

No. 98: November 1971

Rope

It’s the end of an American comedy. Judy Garland is bewitching her seducer. She runs across the promenade that goes past the Gare du Trocadéro (recognizable by its zoo). It’s 1900. The Eiffel Tower stands in the middle of a large meadow. Nonetheless, there’s an elevator. It’s a “shellevator”; its mechanism is slightly off, causing a small repetitive noise. I wouldn’t want to go up in it. Fortunately, there’s another elevator; it’s a cabin, but I missed the first one.

I get on the second. It’s like a funicular. I feel a friendly pressure on my hand.

At the top. There is an energetic old lady controlling the wire rope. Actually, it’s not a rope that secures us but a very long wooden beam.

We run on the glacier.

Soccer players beneath us cheer for us when we pass by (they’re villagers).

A. falls into my arms.

I see J. again. She’s so happy with the English translation she did of her old friend D.’s play that she’s started one in German with the help of a fat Sachs-Villatte dictionary. I’m pleased for her. She’ll make maybe 2000 marks on the radio, I tell her; how much will she give D.? Just 2 or 300 marks, she replies.