This was an unrequired story. My feeling now is that the routines I listened to were the ones I solicited.
I was looking for confirmations and extensions of what I already knew.
Rodinsky was an empty space, a lacuna; that which was not to be uncovered something sealed and forgotten.
This was the period, the seventies between his disappearance and the breaking open the attic room. He wasn’t visible or invisible. He had neither presence nor absence.
His story hadn’t been formulated.
From Rachel Lichtenstein and Iain Sinclair’s Rodinsky’s Room (1999)