This is a photograph of the grave of Felix Guattari, the French philosopher and psychoanalyst (1930 – 1992). He’s buried in the Cimetiere Pere Lachaise in eastern Paris. A few moments before chancing upon his grave, while sitting on a park bench admiring the autumn colours, we were approached by a rather crass American girl who demanded whether a) we spoke English and b) we knew where Chopin was. We did speak English (nonetheless assuming the reluctance of a Parisian when asked that question in English) but we did not know where Chopin was. She strode off, barely stopping for breath, beckoning on a more reluctant group of grave hunters.
We mused about the tendencies of human beings to take pleasure in collecting things (stamps, train numbers, gravestones) and scoffed a little bit to make ourselves feel superior. Then we stumbled across Guattari’s modest grave and we melted into idiotic philosophy fandom. So in addition to the photograph of the grave, here’s a photograph of me taking a photograph of the grave. Analyse that, cochons.