The invention of Morel - Adolfo Bioy Casares [33]
"You all know how we discovered this island. Three factors recommended it to me: (1) the tides, (2) the reefs, (3) the light.
"The regularity of the lunar tides and the frequency of the meteorological tides assure an almost constant supply of motive power. The reefs are a vast system to wall out trespassers,- the only man who knows them is our captain, McGregor,-1 have seen to it that he will not have to risk these dangers again. The light is clear but not dazzling—and makes it possible to preserve the images with little or no waste.
"I confess that after I discovered these outstanding virtues, I did not hesitate for an instant to invest my fortune in the
purchase of the island and in the construction of the museum, the church, the pool. I rented the cargo ship, which you all call the 'yacht/ so our voyage would be more comfortable.
"The word museum, which I use to designate this house, is a survival of the time when I was working on plans for my invention, without knowing how it would eventually turn out. At that time I thought I would build large albums or museums, both public and private, filled with these images.
"Now the time has come to make my announcement: This island, and its buildings, is our private paradise. I have taken some precautions—physical and moral ones—for its defense: I believe they will protect it adequately. Even if we left tomorrow, we would be here eternally, repeating consecutively the moments of this week, powerless to escape from the consciousness we had in each one of them—the thoughts and feelings that the machine captured. We will be able to live a life that is always new, because in each moment of the projection we shall have no memories other than those we had in the corresponding moment of the eternal record, and because the future, left behind many times, will maintain its attributes forever."[6]
They appear from time to time. Yesterday I saw Haynes on the edge of the hill; two days ago I saw Stoever and Irene; today I saw Dora and some of the other women. They make me feel impatient: if I want to live an orderly existence, I must stop looking at these images.
My favorite temptations are to destroy them, to destroy the machines that project them (they must be in the basement), or to break the mill wheel. I control myself; I do not wish to think about my island companions because they could become an obsession.
However, I do not believe there is any danger of that. I am too busy trying to stand the floods, my hunger, the food I eat.
Now I am looking for a way to construct a permanent bed; I shall not find it here in the lowlands,- the trees are decayed and cannot support me. But I am determined to change all this: when the tides are high I do not sleep, and the smaller floods interrupt my rest on the other days, but always at a different hour. I cannot get used to these inundations. I find it difficult to sleep, thinking of the moment when the muddy, lukewarm water will cover my face and choke me momentarily. I do not want to be surprised by the current, but fatigue overcomes me and then the water is already there, silently forcing its way into my respiratory passages. This makes me feel painfully tired, and I tend to be irritated and discouraged by the slightest difficulty.
I was reading the yellow papers again. I find that Morel's explanation of the ways to supply certain spatial and temporal needs can lead to confusion. Perhaps it would be better to say: Methods To Achieve Sensory Perceptions, and Methods To Achieve and Retain Such Perceptions. Radio, television, the telephone are exclusively methods of achievement; motion pictures, photography, the phonograph—authentic archives—are methods of achievement and retention.
So then, all the machines that supply certain sensory needs are methods of achievement (before we have the photograph or the phonograph record, it must be taken, recorded).