bring these passers-together to Le Havre, on Boulevard Maritime, at the beginning of the last century. Look at these two women who are on the way out, one of these Sundays of life, an umbrella by hand, coming from Sainte-Adresse. Their mystery is of no origin and endless. However, the writing will not stop making this return to green upstream of its own origin. Raymond Queneau left Le Havre at the age of 17, but his work returns there and continues to question this inoui point where both the origin and the way of departure emerge and escape. And here too, in this tribute that his City Natale gives to the writer, we look at the multifaceted figures of origin: forensic writing, genealogy of characters, genesis of text, hidden metaphysics, archaeology of knowledge, origin of languages, archaetypes of unconscious, Eros and Dream... In this endless turbulent around the enigma of literary creation, we are in turn inspired by the attraction of an invisible black hole, the absence of which is fascine. Point of non-return, yet to which one can only try to return: this is the mystery of origins.