In this paper I try to highlight the ambiguous voice of the writer Dumitru Țepeneag, passing from author to auctor, in his exile through an Europe where characters are as “flags” on the map, moved from time to time, having no destiny or a clear direction. In his almost oneiric way, the writer tries to put together lives balanced between two worlds: on one hand, there is the world where meanings are so worn-out that they cannot convey anything any longer, and, on the other hand, there is the world of abstruse...
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