Saturday Morning: le bapteme de la solitude


Immediately when you arrive in the Sahara, for the first or the tenth time, you notice the stillness. An incredible, absolute silence prevails outside the towns; and within, even in busy places like the markets, there is a hushed quality in the air, as if the quiet were a conscious force which, resenting the intrusion of sound, minimizes and disperses sound straightway. Then there is the sky, compared to which all other skies seem faint-hearted efforts. Solid and luminous, it is always the focal point of the landscape. At sunset, the precise, curved shadow of the earth rises into it swiftly from the horizon. You leave the gate of the fort or the town behind, pass the camels lying outside, go up into the dunes, or out into the hard, stony plain and stand awhile, alone. Presently, you will either shiver and hurry back inside the walls, or you will go on standing there and let something very peculiar happen to you, something that everyone who lives there has undergone and which the French call “le bapteme de la solitude.“It is a unique sensation and has nothing to do with loneliness, for loneliness presupposes memory. Here, in this wholly mineral landscape lighted by stars like flares, even memory disappears; nothing is left but your own breathing and the sound of your heart beating. A strange, and by no means pleasant, process of reintegration begins inside you, and you have the choice of fighting against it, and insisting on remaining the person you have always been, or letting it take its course. For no one who has stayed in the Sahara for awhile is quite the same as when he came.

Perhaps the logical question to ask at this point is: Why Go? The answer is that when a man has been there and undergone the baptism of solitude he can’t help himself. Once he has been under the spell of the vast, luminous, silent country, no other place is quite strong enough for him, no other surroundings can provide the supremely satisfying sensation of existing in the midst of something that is absolute. He will go back, whatever the cost in comfort and money, for the absolute has no price.

— Paul Bowles, “Baptism of Solitude,” Their Heads are Green and Their Hands are Blue: Scenes from the Non-Christian World




  1. No one comes back the same…
    No one!
    … and then decades go by and one still dreams of it at night when you’re awake to find yourself

    Liked by 1 person

  2. the baptism of solitude – perfect

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow, sounds intense! I had a somewhat similar feeling starring up at the sky in Africa–it all felt very elemental, as if I’d somehow glimpsed the essence of things. And yes, these moments DO stay with you….

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sounds like your kind of place.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Such a magical and compelling description. Our Mother has given us infinite wonders.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. A beautiful description of what I know to be true. The image says it all too.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Now I so much want to be there.. awe-inspiring..

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: