ABSTRACT
In Ferro’s Reveries, there is a story, or prose poem, called ‘The Library’. Every night the books plucked up the courage to slip down from their shelves and ‘gave voice to the characters they narrated until these last, through continual repetition of their stories, began to take form and unpredictable encounters were possible’. But it was not possible to know these various stories, of love, loss, and betrayal, because each night
the characters had to return to the books as they had left them and everyone continued to believe in the stories told in the book, which no longer corresponded to what happened at night, in a reality prevented from emerging by a respect for order.
(Ferro [2008] 2015, p. 66)