a personal record-第26章
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be set down; the glimpses of strange beasts; the dangers of flood
and field; the hairbreadth escapes; and the sufferings (oh; the
sufferings; too! I have no doubt of the sufferings) of the
traveller being carefully kept out; no shady spot; no fruitful
plant being ever mentioned either; so that the whole performance
looks like a mere feat of agility on the part of a trained pen
running in a desert。 A cruel spectaclea most deplorable
adventure! 〃Life;〃 in the words of an immortal thinker of; I
should say; bucolic origin; but whose perishable name is lost to
the worship of posterity〃life is not all beer and skittles。〃
Neither is the writing of novels。 It isn't; really。 Je vous
donne ma parole d'honneur that itisnot。 Not ALL。 I am thus
emphatic because some years ago; I remember; the daughter of a
general。 。 。 。
Sudden revelations of the profane world must have come now and
then to hermits in their cells; to the cloistered monks of middle
ages; to lonely sages; men of science; reformers; the revelations
of the world's superficial judgment; shocking to the souls
concentrated upon their own bitter labour in the cause of
sanctity; or of knowledge; or of temperance; let us say; or of
art; if only the art of cracking jokes or playing the flute。 And
thus this general's daughter came to meor I should say one of
the general's daughters did。 There were three of these bachelor
ladies; of nicely graduated ages; who held a neighbouring
farm…house in a united and more or less military occupation。 The
eldest warred against the decay of manners in the village
children; and executed frontal attacks upon the village mothers
for the conquest of courtesies。 It sounds futile; but it was
really a war for an idea。 The second skirmished and scouted all
over the country; and it was that one who pushed a reconnaissance
right to my very tableI mean the one who wore stand…up collars。
She was really calling upon my wife in the soft spirit of
afternoon friendliness; but with her usual martial determination。
She marched into my room swinging her stick 。 。 。 but noI
mustn't exaggerate。 It is not my specialty。 I am not a
humoristic writer。 In all soberness; then; all I am certain of
is that she had a stick to swing。
No ditch or wall encompassed my abode。 The window was open; the
door; too; stood open to that best friend of my work; the warm;
still sunshine of the wide fields。 They lay around me infinitely
helpful; but; truth to say; I had not known for weeks whether the
sun shone upon the earth and whether the stars above still moved
on their appointed courses。 I was just then giving up some days
of my allotted span to the last chapters of the novel 〃Nostromo;〃
a tale of an imaginary (but true) seaboard; which is still
mentioned now and again; and indeed kindly; sometimes in
connection with the word 〃failure〃 and sometimes in conjunction
with the word 〃astonishing。〃 I have no opinion on this
discrepancy。 It's the sort of difference that can never be
settled。 All I know is that; for twenty months; neglecting the
common joys of life that fall to the lot of the humblest on this
earth; I had; like the prophet of old; 〃wrestled with the Lord〃
for my creation; for the headlands of the coast; for the darkness
of the Placid Gulf; the light on the snows; the clouds in the
sky; and for the breath of life that had to be blown into the
shapes of men and women; of Latin and Saxon; of Jew and Gentile。
These are; perhaps; strong words; but it is difficult to
characterize other wise the intimacy and the strain of a creative
effort in which mind and will and conscience are engaged to the
full; hour after hour; day after day; away from the world; and to
the exclusion of all that makes life really lovable and
gentlesomething for which a material parallel can only be found
in the everlasting sombre stress of the westward winter passage
round Cape Horn。 For that; too; is the wrestling of men with the
might of their Creator; in a great isolation from the world;
without the amenities and consolations of life; a lonely struggle
under a sense of overmatched littleness; for no reward that could
be adequate; but for the mere winning of a longitude。 Yet a
certain longitude; once won; cannot be disputed。 The sun and the
stars and the shape of your earth are the witnesses of your gain;
whereas a handful of pages; no matter how much you have made them
your own; are at best but an obscure and questionable spoil。
Here they are。 〃Failure〃〃Astonishing〃: take your choice; or
perhaps both; or neithera mere rustle and flutter of pieces of
paper settling down in the night; and undistinguishable; like the
snowflakes of a great drift destined to melt away in sunshine。
〃How do you do?〃
It was the greeting of the general's daughter。 I had heard
nothingno rustle; no footsteps。 I had felt only a moment
before a sort of premonition of evil; I had the sense of an
inauspicious presencejust that much warning and no more; and
then came the sound of the voice and the jar as of a terrible
fall from a great heighta fall; let us say; from the highest of
the clouds floating in gentle procession over the fields in the
faint westerly air of that July afternoon。 I picked myself up
quickly; of course; in other words; I jumped up from my chair
stunned and dazed; every nerve quivering with the pain of being
uprooted out of one world and flung down into anotherperfectly
civil。
〃Oh! How do you do? Won't you sit down?〃
That's what I said。 This horrible but; I assure you; perfectly
true reminiscence tells you more than a whole volume of
confessions a la Jean Jacques Rousseau would do。 Observe! I
didn't howl at her; or start up setting furniture; or throw
myself on the floor and kick; or allow myself to hint in any
other way at the appalling magnitude of the disaster。 The whole
world of Costaguana (the country; you may remember; of my
seaboard tale); men; women; headlands; houses; mountains; town;
campo(there was not a single brick; stone; or grain of sand of
its soil I had not placed in position with my own hands); all the
history; geography; politics; finance; the wealth of Charles
Gould's silver…mine; and the splendour of the magnificent Capataz
de Cargadores; whose name; cried out in the night (Dr。 Monygham
heard it pass over his headin Linda Viola's voice); dominated
even after death the dark gulf containing his conquests of
treasure and loveall that had come down crashing about my ears。
I felt I could never pick up the piecesand in that very moment
I was saying; 〃Won't you sit down?〃
The sea is strong medicine。 Behold what the quarter…deck
training even in a merchant ship will do! This episode should
give you a new view of the English and Scots seamen (a
much…caricatured folk) who had the last say in the formation of
my character。 One is nothing if not modest; but in this disaster
I think I have done some honour to their simple teaching。 〃Won't
you sit down?〃 Very fair; very fair; indeed。 She sat down。 Her
amused glance strayed all over the room。
There were pages of MS。 on the table and under the table; a batch
of typed copy on a chair; single leaves had fluttered away into
distant corners; there were there living pages; pages scored and
wounded; dead pages that would be burned at the end of the
daythe litter of a cruel battle…field; of a long; long; and
desperate fray。