Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Mircea Cartarescu

felt it as soon as I arrived. I immediately perceived a silence as pure as the white of the snow, the silence from before the appearance of the ear, before the notion of sound, sir. Or maybe the silence from before the creation of the world.” He had bought a plot of about five hundred square meters, making sure that the node was entirely covered by its perimeter. He had dug a deep wide hole for the foundation of the house and while doing so he had discovered very old ruins dating from the abyss of history. Nicolae Borina had laid his solenoid there, in the pit of fresh clay. It had cost him a fortune. It was a nine metre diameter torus. Sixteen layers of coils made of five millimetre thick

copper wire were twisted on a ferrite core in an incredibly complicated structure with alternations of direction and orientation, calculated in accordance with a mysterious numerology system. This huge coil had been manufactured in Basel and brought into the country on the railway by special transport. It had been transported at night from the Filaret station and secretly installed on a foundation with hydraulic cylinders and bearings in the Maica Domnului hole, depleted of the antique vestiges which had been carried to the Tei garbage pit without too much fuss. A concrete layer was poured over the solenoid and the house was built above. My life had enoughmadness

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