Zazie’s going downtown and Zazie’s going uptown and Zazie’s going all around… Zazie has put the entire Paris upside …Zazie’s going downtown and Zazie’s going uptown and Zazie’s going all around… Zazie has put the entire Paris upside down and turned it inside out in no time…‘What are all those people doing?’ she asked.‘They’re going to the flea market,’ said the chap, ‘or rather it’s the flea market that’s going to them, because it starts there.’‘Ah flea market,’ said Zazie, looking, like people do when they’re determined not to be impressed, ‘that’s where you discover rembrants going cheap, then afterwards you sell them to a Yank and you haven’t wasted your time.’‘There’s not only rembrants,’ said the chap, ‘there’s cork soles too, and lavender, and nails, and even jackets…’Zazie is extremely curious, she wants to be everywhere and she wishes to know everything… There’s hearsay that her uncle isn’t like other men and that he is queer… She calls him ‘a hormosessual’ having no slightest idea what it might mean… ‘Gzactly,’ replied Gabriel.‘And he’s my uncle and he’s queer,’ added Zazie who thought this was a fairly new joke for which she was ikscused in view of her youth.Time passes and the day is full of crazy events and extravagant happenings… But the eternal question of existence asked by Hamlet still remains the same…Being or nothingness, that is the question. Ascending, descending, coming, going, a man does so much that in the end he disappears. A taxi bears him off, a metro carries him away, the Tower doesn’t care, nor the Panthéon. Paris is but a dream, Gabriel is but a reverie (a charming one), Zazie the dream of a reverie (or of a nightmare) and all this story the dream of a dream, the reverie of a reverie, scarcely more than the typewritten delirium of an idiotic novelist.The child’s mind breaks reality like a prism breaks the sunlight.