There are men with whom W.,, a small man, feels safe, and others with whom he feels intimidated. Take our friend the bouncer, who picked W. up and spun him round his head. Never did W. feel unsafe! Never did he feel he'd be dropped, or otherwise come to harm. He was held right up to the ceiling, right beneath the light fitting in his living room, but felt no fear.
But in my presence, W. is very often afraid. On that pedallo in the Black Forest, for example. I was pedalling, my enormous thighs working furiously, while he was perched up on the back seat, terrified. I even sang to him to calm him down, songs of the thirties and forties, but he wasn't calmed. My voice, my terrible voice singing 'We'll Meet Again', my thighs, and the rocking of the pedallo: he shudders to remember.
Lars Iyer's Blog 