A couple of years ago, in the obscure, unexplained way these things sometimes occur, I was reminded suddenly of Dutch filmmaker George Sluizer's marvellous and scarifying 1988 movie, The Vanishing (Dutch: Spoorloos).
A Dutch couple — Rex and Saskia — are driving in France on holiday. When they stop for fuel, Saskia goes to buy drinks and does not return. Increasingly distressed, Rex looks everywhere for her but never sees her again, despite being obsessed by the search ever after.
Many years later, he discovers the truth which, of course, not to spoil it for you, I won't reveal. If you decide to hunt for the film with Rex-like obsession, make sure you get Sluizer's original Dutch version and not his greatly inferior English language remake. And don't blame me for the nightmares you may have for some weeks after.
The mind has mountains, cliffs and sheer falls, and my imagination had been distracted into precipitate and detailed recall of the film by that one word: vanishing. On that distant day back around 2007, I was contemplating the stretch of dried-out weeds and sun-baked earth which a higher power in our household had earmarked for, some day, a pool. Not just any old pool. A pool with a — vanishing edge.
The vanishing-edge pool is also known as the infinity pool or the negative-edge pool. To quote from one commercial description: 'The names refer to the effect of blending pool water seamlessly into the horizon without the visible intrusion of a wall.' And it looks terrific. The absence of a wall creates a stunning effect of space and distance as sky and surface merge.
In no time at all, when this wonder was explained to me, I saw in my imagination's eye the pool surrounded with paving, and a sturdy but elegant fence for the safety of the grandchildren, and shade at one end from the surrounding lemon-scented gums and, of course, the illimitable, long and level reaches of the blue water.
'Without the visible intrusion of a wall', however, water simply tumbles quietly over the infinite edge. This means it has to be collected down below and pumped back up into the pool which, like a duck swimming, remains serene on top while furious and ceaseless activity is roiling away underneath.
For all this to happen — especially the pumping part — serious equipment is required and it is for this reason that 'infinite'