Maupassant's travel diary, miming the prit ries of a cruise's log-hook keeps the narrative adrift on a fantasy of fusion, itself encouraged by the movement — or the imaginary — of the sea. But Maupassant is careful to frame the story, an initial comment announces that nothing of interest can be derived from the diary, while a conclusion observes that nothing but vague daydreams have emerged. Thus the author both complies with his obligation to the reader and the editor by judging the narrator, and allows himself — and the reader ? — to drift along at the diary's invitation.
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