I read this essay last night and it made me wonder if he is referring to Marc Chagall's paintings. Here is an excerpt from the essay:
Saturday NightIt especially reminded me of Chagall's Au Dessus de la Ville (shown below)
Can Mother muster enough thrust to leave the earth in a sudden leap? Does Father need words of encouragement, a rabbit's foot, a running start? Will they rise above our suburb at dusk and see it studded with lights? Wind must play havoc with mother's dress, her stole blown back like a vapour trail. Father's suit, diminishing, dark, will become part of the night. What instinct helps them scout for the house, find the right street, land on their feet? ...
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