Literary archaeology quarries for messages that lie buried in the depths of human experience. On the surface these messages seem as lost to us as the names of the dead who have been left behind eons before. Yet, like in a dream, they can be heard in the fugitive memories found in the deep subterranean passages of the mind. It can be dangerous to dig so deeply trenching into the stratrigraphy of consciousness. There are labyrinthine tenebrous tunnels, corridors shrouded in darkness, many which turn back on themselves or lead nowhere. These intimations of distant mythologies are difficult to navigate, they run like quicksilver, illuminated by a soft dazed obstinate light insistent on its own truth. Even time itself cannot yet deprive us of these distant visages. There is an enormous fund of memories, an affectionate familiarity in the images found in the caves, especially the abstract forms, which have been taken to be a code language for the preliterate cultures of the Paleolithic. These images correspond to the inner structure of their psyche, the fons signatus of their creators reflecting some coherences, some inherent order in their universe still unrecognized.