Late nineteenth, early twentieth century. Revelation and starting point. Someone has (re) (un) covered the world, he has thought again. Charles Peguy notes Bergson's duration, but not as one reviews a new thesis but as living to whom something sticks her skin: What is undeniable is that all the time does not pass at the same speed and according to the same pace. There part of this dialogue between his pagan soul (or classical) and history. It is as if the entire duration is to tuck Peguy through the pores, and put to speak through him. A drift made man thrown into the flow of the living. And a reckoning with all (modern) tradition that nullifies what remained of life in Clio (history). After all, a grudge match with itself, and are the last, since a couple of years after this trial (1909-1913) Peguy definitely will pay off in the battlefield a mistake. A farewell and a passage, a last goodbye to the mundane and the arrival of a new inspiration, a new muse.

Peguy describes two rhythms. History and memory. Faced with the evocation and the story, the invocation of a life. How not to become a historian? Living memory as presence. Memorialism. And a thinking of the event. On the one hand, the gross joints and apparent history. On the other, internal joints, memory of the real. Is it not clear that the event is not homogeneous, that maybe it's organic? (...) Finally the possibility, precious, to have a relationship with history, with another story. No history of the historian, the politician, the common man, the memory of museum, but the event in history, the act in history, the act that resists and escapes from the registration memory is present, ie he is living.