W. has always surrounded himself with the young. After all, he's several years older than I am, he says. We're separated by almost an entire generation.
His generation, he says, still had hope. – 'The residues of hope'. Mine had nothing; hope itself was a luxury. – 'What chance did you have?', W. says.
'You don't want much, do you?', W. says. 'You don't expect a great deal'. As for him … W. comes from the last of the generations who looked for a great change, for a kind of revolution to occur, he says. – 'And it might have happened, too', he says. Didn't Godard make a film on his university campus? Oh, that was long before his time. But weren't there still communists outside the student union? It seemed like the beginning of times rather than the end of them, the endless end, W. says.
Lars Iyer's Blog 