One summer’s evening in 1933, the writer Raymond Roussel closes the door of his hotel room in Palermo. He swallows pills, drags the mattress to the centre of the room and lies down on it. The next morning his companion finds his corpse. But is he really dead?
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One summer’s evening in 1933, the writer Raymond Roussel closes the door of his hotel room in Palermo. He swallows pills, drags the mattress to the centre of the room and lies down on it. The next morning his companion finds his corpse. But is he really dead?
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