We didn’t really believe it when Frédéric Pajak pretended to have reached the end of his tormented epic: nine volumes in as many years to review, with the eyes of others, the landscape of his existence. “Finished on Manifest? It’s uncertain,” we wrote then, in the hope that it was not the case, that the very singular correspondence that the designer liked to maintain with his own vocation as a writer could still darken a few lost books.
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