Haunted for some time by mental images of dilapidated sheepfolds, muddy fields, stone walls eaten away by vegetation, remote and miserable villages. By images of grey skies, sometimes full of heavy, metallic clouds, that are full of storms, or sometimes pale and empty. A rural France, obscure, secret, marked by decrepitude, trade with the devil, silence and greyness.

Modern life, the contemporary world, is becoming progressively so unbearable, and my own life so distressing, that this mental escape into a mythical, secret, wonderfully backward, dark, magical, fascinating countryside is imposed on me.