ABSTRACT
The sense of belatedness that runs through the following pages is neither accidental nor purely temporal. The very concept of belatedness, of an arrival after the event, presumes an enclosure of time and a being-out of that enclosure. It is therefore not only the trivial fact of chronocity and sequence, but a more radical displacement, better known, perhaps, under the name of Modernity. In what follows I will attempt to diagnose the symptoms of this sense of displacement, this incurable homesickness, in Bakhtin’s work.
