After finishing the Reading of Paris Peasant, I just realized how a novel can present beautiful. Aragorn emotionally and intellectually distinguishes a perfect world from the terrible early twentieth-century period. As the contemporary capital of Paris, its inherent enchantment always draws the attention of outsiders, and fantastic things are always happening here. When a countryman approached the streets of the enormous theatre that was about to be demolished in the author’s book, he was astounded by what he saw, and it was no surprise that the alarm clock displayed rich and exciting images.

We understand the wonder of darkness and trust in the power of the unknown from the bottom of our hearts. When you see someone emerging from the shadows, do you feel hopeful?

I can see how the semidarkness light in those corridors might bring delight to certain individuals. Information gained by reason may be compared to knowledge gained through the senses in terms of rational motivation or believing in reality through matter. Darkness and light are analogous to sensation and reason. They are unable to be separated. Only the presence of one can explain the other’s existence in a different way. It’s as if the thing doesn’t have a shadow. Is it possible that the entire picture may start to seem strange?

Personally, I think what Aragon said in the novel “Future mysteries will arise from the ruins of today’s” validate this book and validate this era. He is referring to not only the transformation of streets and the replacement of old and new objects, but also the subversive shifts in thought. Aragon described the street in detail, as if he were a countryman strolling through lovely Paris, eavesdropping on this Paris of capitalism, the street setups, the window decorations, the wine merchants who had to remove their warehouses owing to capital constraints, and those inventive analogies.

Even when it comes to death, Aragorn chooses to dance with death without fear, describing an ideal world to his readers. On this avenue, he encountered Lisel, a lady with the appearance of a flower petal but the behaviour of a forced prostitute. And there was the pair of barbers who transformed into snakes and wound Ecstasy around their fingers. In a hectic metropolis, men and women need a venue like this to help them physically fit in. The iron gate, hidden between coffee shops and bookshops and isolated the immoral iron gates, strikes me as one of many doors that may or may not exist in this intricate ancient area. And it’s set to be torn down. Does this imply that the dirty side of human nature will emerge from the shadows and mix with the new civilisation even in the new era?

If at all possible, I’d like to meet this man who was going down the Boulevard Haussmann; I’m not sure what type of metaphor he’ll use or how he’ll include me into his vision.