The More Images I Gathered From The

We All Have Appointments With The Past.

We Learn From History As Much As A Rabbit Learns From An Experiment That's Performed Upon It.

Men And Animals Regard Each Other Across A Gulf Of Mutual Incomprehension.

The Noonday Demon Explores The Subterranean Realms Of An Illness Which Is On The Point Of Becoming Endemic, And Which More Than Anything Else Mirrors The Present State Of Our Civilization And Its Profound Discontents. As Wide-ranging As It Is Incisive, This Astonishing Work Is A Testimony Both To The Muted Suffering Of Millions And To The Great Courage It Must Have Taken The Author To Set His Mind Against It.

I Suppose It Is Submerged Realities That Give To Dreams Their Curious Air Of Hyper-reality. But Perhaps There Is Something Else As Well, Something Nebulous, Gauze-like, Through Which Everything One Sees In A Dream Seems, Paradoxically, Much Clearer. A Pond Becomes A Lake, A Breeze Becomes A Storm, A Handful Of Dust Is A Desert, A Grain Of Sulphur In The Blood Is A Volcanic Inferno. What Manner Of Theater Is It, In Which We Are At Once Playwright, Actor, Stage Manager, Scene Painter And Audience?