Everything passes. The good and the bad. The joy and the sorrow.
Everything passes.

Or does it?

A man stands at a window, looking out. Behind him, a room, bare of people and of furniture. Fragments of conversations drop into his head, conversations with his first and second wife, with his children, with his friends. A life can slowly be pieced together, culminating in a terrifying near-death experience.

Gabriel Josipovici has created a compressed, poetic narrative of solitude, love, illness and the ambiguous comforts of art. As clear and elusive as the arts it explores, this is the most beautiful and mysterious of Josipovici's books to date.



'I am a constant admirer of his talent and intellect.' - Muriel Spark