A scholar discovers the animal in books much like columbus discovers america, in motion toward that which he does not know, that which is unknowable, for him especially, but already familiar to many. In other words, not at all, though this will not stop him from trying.

This discovery of the animal, made by this bespectacled homo sapien — the scholar — is made as one discovers the next page in a book, already read by others, hidden by what they’re looking at in that very moment, vaguely aware of it’s specific existence — faithful, in point of fact, to this belief in being — always striven towards & impossible to be arrived at, a tome of infinite pages, where this page always hides the other behind it, no matter how far is read. The animal is only uncovered when the infinity of pages is abandoned — perhaps not forever. Even then, we would not dare not use this word, “uncovered,” for the animal is by definition bare.