My darling archive,
Though you have less materiality than my other texts, I shall return to you: just as soon as I have done writing about Magritte and van Eyck and the entire history of Western art.
It is true that our affexion is but newly formed; yet I have never, I think, given you reason to doubt its worthiness: did I not stick by you through the Baudrillard paper of 11 April? Nor will you have forgotten my constancy in the Literary Criticism Exam of the 15th. We shall not even speak of my great fidelity during the harrowing events of “Chapter One.”
Fear not then, dear archive: this ordeal will end, and we shall happily return to our old ways together, singing the praises of Michael Ondaatje, and making good-humoured fun of Roland Barthes.
With all the rapture that is appropriate,
Your humble protagonist, the English undergraduate.
22 April 2008