The Novel Is Not So Much A

...you Have To Leave The Island In Order To See The Island, That We Can't See Ourselves Unless We Become Free Of Ourselves, Unless We Escape From Ourselves You Mean, No, That's Not The Same Thing.

Some Drivers Have Already Got Out Of Their Cars, Prepared To Push The Stranded Vehicle To A Spot Where It Will Not Hold Up The Traffic, They Beat Furiously On The Closed Windows, The Man Inside Turns His Head In Their Direction, First To One Side Then To The Other, He Is Clearly Shouting Something, To Judge By The Movements Of His Mouth He Appears To Be Repeating Some Words, No One Word But Three, As Turns Out To Be The Case When Someone Finally Manages To Open The Door, I Am Blind.

Human Nature Is, By Definition, A Talkative One, Imprudent, Indiscreet, Gossipy, Incapable Of Closing Its Mouth And Keeping It Closed.

The Problem Is That The Right Doesn't Need Any Ideas To Govern, But The Left Can't Govern Without Ideas.

We Live In A Very Peculiar World. Democracy Isn't Discussed, As If It Was Taken For Granted, As If Democracy Had Taken God's Place, Who Is Also Not Discussed.