Just imagine a wrist watch. You remove its back and so the entire mechanism is revealed. With your left hand, you lift a magnifying glass to clearly see the inside. The magnifier will help you better observe a particular wheel. Suddenly, the wheel starts to spin and you realize the importance of it.
The discovery will knock you down and you’ll be wondering how come you’ve never noticed it before. Then, again with the help of the magnifier, you will droop over another small part. And just about then, the small part starts to spin even faster and you’ll discover new roles you’ve never suspected before. Even though you had them all right in your face the entire time.
The same happens with Matei Vișniec’s novel – it’s a mechanism revealed only to those capable of being a little more patient in order to see things that they have grown so much accustomed to that they no longer can notice them around.
My Evrika moment?! Well, it has to be the majestic description of the à la française breakfast formed of a croissant and a cup of coffee; and, especially, the fact that I am a little bit of umbrella and a little bit of shoe myself. And I haven’t even noticed that before.