There had indeed been something in this person, as far as he could remember, which could arouse affection, and even the existence of “his loved ones”; something that did not exist in Houellebecq’s home, and neither in his case: a kind of familiarity with life. In this indirect way, as it were by cross-checking, Jed became aware that he had just turned sixty. Surprisingly, he wasn’t aware that he had aged so much. We become aware of our aging through relationships with others and their lives. One always tends to see oneself among the eternal species. To be sure, his hair had turned white. His face had become wrinkled. But all this had been done gradually, without anything directly confronting him with the images of his youth. This incongruity struck him.