For unknown reasons, Yourcenar’s L'Œuvre au noir was translated into English as The Abyss, not a misnomer but an adaptation, a manœuvre of the humours dug into to the dregs of transmutation: as above, so below the bloodcount belongs to the living. As above, so below the threshold. As those who are about to die and those who love them know, hospital time entrails its own phenomenonology. It is a beating in code compliance. It oxbows into Liminality and Liability, the twin lakes of misfire. The only light comparable to that of hospitals is found in malls; designed to lose track of time, an undress rehearsal for eternity, or reality. It is never clearly any time and life goes on, until.
Nicolas Poussin. Landscape with Man Killed by a Snake. 1648. Oil on canvas. 118.20 cm x 197.80. National Gallery, London.