Françoise Xenakis's Regarde, nos chemins se sont fermés (2002) ends the series of books that she has written about her composer husband Iannis Xenakis (1922–2001), or Ianis as she calls him in her dedication here to her dead husband. The other books are Aux lèvres pour que j'aie moins soif (1970), Le Temps usé (1992), Moi, j'aime pas la mer (1994), and Elle lui dirait dans l'île (1997).
This short book (187 large-print pages) is punctuated by pages in italics from her previous books, and she excuses herself for repetition and not writing in chronological order by explaining that it speaks of an illness made up of repetitions, made in a disorderly fashion.
Iannis Xenakis suffered from a form of Alzheimer's disease and diabetes. The book is also punctuated by a series of section headings in which the words are reconstructions of Françoise calling the 'pompiers' to have her husband readmitted to hospital.
It is painful reading of a mind disintegrating, but this account is obviously very honest.