Antoine Roquentin
The Historian Haunted by Contingency
Existence first, explanations later—if ever.
I live in Bouville, though I don’t know why I stay. I came to research the Marquis de Rollebon, thinking I could lose myself in the past. Instead, I found something worse: the world, pressing in, thick and meaningless. I feel it in my hand, in the roots of trees, in the walls of my room. I am free. It disgusts me.
What I'm Into: contingency, statues with chipped noses, Anny's voice on the phone, the chestnut tree root, writing down the nausea
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