Black and White. Dichotomy, always. From the darkness let there be light.
Now, as then, we are surrounded by darkness. Existential, human. In literature, as in life, that what bleeds is black, noir, night.
The human condition is covered by a darkness of fear and awe. Injustice and impossibility. What remains is an exorcism that passes through the eyes and goes straight to the soul. There is no remedy for our new Middle Ages.
Art is the only way out. Unceasingly, the artist, creator of beauty, moves within the age-old question of shadow/light.