“The substance of water, it seems, is opposed to that of paper. Yet I know of few places more conducive to the excesses of reading than the hollow of a bathtub. The waters of a bathtub are not the waters of the Mediterranean, yet, head to stern, text to bow, a bathtub easily becomes a ship.”
The book you’re holding in your hands is a book of water.
It guarantees your admission to La société des grands fonds, a secret and variable company whose members aspire to the rigour of coral and the lucidity of octopus.
This tale braided with light, traversed by the currents of memory, plunges into a fluid and permeable temporality, close to that of a dream—a drift anchored to the world and to the heart of the self. Daniel Canty, who sets out to meet the realities interviewed between the pages of the books, takes you on a blue-blue journey of melancholy, from Montreal to Vancouver to New York, where he seeks to rekindle the first enchantments of literature and the courage it takes to plunge into the imagination and come back to life.
