The Secret Places of the Heart. Герберт Уэллс

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СКАЧАТЬ no serious damage – happily. There were whole days of wrath – days, as I remember them. Perhaps they were only hours… I’ve never thought before what a peculiar thing all this raging is in the world. WHY do we rage? They used to say it was the devil. If it isn’t the devil, then what the devil is it? After all,” he went on as the doctor was about to answer his question; “as you pointed out, it isn’t the lowlier things that rage. It’s the HIGHER things and US.”

      “The devil nowadays,” the doctor reflected after a pause, “so far as man is concerned, is understood to be the ancestral ape. And more particularly the old male ape.”

      But Sir Richmond was away on another line of thought. “Life itself, flaring out. Brooking no contradiction.” He came round suddenly to the doctor’s qualification. “Why male? Don’t little girls smash things just as much?”

      “They don’t,” said Dr. Martineau. “Not nearly as much.”

      Sir Richmond went off at a tangent again. “I suppose you have watched any number of babies?”’

      “Not nearly as many as a general practitioner would do. There’s a lot of rage about most of them at first, male or female.”

      “Queer little eddies of fury… Recently – it happens – I’ve been seeing one. A spit of red wrath, clenching its fists and squalling threats at a damned disobedient universe.”

      The doctor was struck by an idea and glanced quickly and questioningly at his companion’s profile.

      “Blind driving force,” said Sir Richmond, musing.

      “Isn’t that after all what we really are?” he asked the doctor. “Essentially – Rage. A rage in dead matter, making it alive.”

      “Schopenhauer,” footnoted the doctor. “Boehme.”

      “Plain fact,” said Sir Richmond. “No Rage – no Go.”

      “But rage without discipline?”

      “Discipline afterwards. The rage first.”

      “But rage against what? And FOR what?”

      “Against the Universe. And for – ? That’s more difficult. What IS the little beast squalling itself crimson for? Ultimately? … What is it clutching after? In the long run, what will it get?”

      (“Yours the car in distress what sent this?” asked an unheeded voice.)

      “Of course, if you were to say ‘desire’,” said Dr. Martineau, “then you would be in line with the psychoanalysts. They talk of LIBIDO, meaning a sort of fundamental desire. Jung speaks of it at times almost as if it were the universal driving force.”

      “No,” said Sir Richmond, in love with his new idea. “Not desire. Desire would have a definite direction, and that is just what this driving force hasn’t. It’s rage.”

      “Yours the car in distress what sent this?” the voice repeated. It was the voice of a mechanic in an Overland car. He was holding up the blue request for assistance that Sir Richmond had recently filled in.

      The two philosophers returned to practical matters.

Section 3

      For half an hour after the departure of the little Charmeuse car with Sir Richmond and Dr. Martineau, the brass Mercury lay unheeded in the dusty roadside grass. Then it caught the eye of a passing child.

      He was a bright little boy of five. From the moment when he caught the gleam of brass he knew that he had made the find of his life. But his nurse was a timorous, foolish thing. “You did ought to of left it there, Masterrarry,” she said.

      “Findings ain’t keepings nowadays, not by no manner of means, Masterrarry.

      “Yew’d look silly if a policeman came along arsting people if they seen a goldennimage.

      “Arst yer ‘ow you come by it and look pretty straight at you.”

      All of which grumblings Master Harry treated with an experienced disregard. He knew definitely that he would never relinquish this bright and lovely possession again. It was the first beautiful thing he had ever possessed. He was the darling of fond and indulgent parents and his nursery was crowded with hideous rag and sawdust dolls, golliwogs, comic penguins, comic lions, comic elephants and comic policemen and every variety of suchlike humorous idiocy and visual beastliness. This figure, solid, delicate and gracious, was a thing of a different order.

      There was to be much conflict and distress, tears and wrath, before the affinity of that clean-limbed, shining figure and his small soul was recognized. But he carried his point at last. The Mercury became his inseparable darling, his symbol, his private god, the one dignified and serious thing in a little life much congested by the quaint, the burlesque, and all the smiling, dull condescensions of adult love.

      CHAPTER THE FOURTH

      AT MAIDENHEAD

Section 1

      The little Charmeuse was towed to hospital and the two psychiatrists took up their quarters at the Radiant Hotel with its pleasant lawns and graceful landing stage at the bend towards the bridge. Sir Richmond, after some trying work at the telephone, got into touch with his own proper car. A man would bring the car down in two days’ time at latest, and afterwards the detested coupe could go back to London. The day was still young, and after lunch and coffee upon a sunny lawn a boat seemed indicated. Sir Richmond astonished the doctor by going to his room, reappearing dressed in tennis flannels and looking very well in them. It occurred to the doctor as a thing hitherto unnoted that Sir Richmond was not indifferent to his personal appearance. The doctor had no flannels, but he had brought a brown holland umbrella lined with green that he had acquired long ago in Algiers, and this served to give him something of the riverside quality.

      The day was full of sunshine and the river had a Maytime animation. Pink geraniums, vivid green lawns, gay awnings, bright glass, white paint and shining metal set the tone of Maidenhead life. At lunch there had been five or six small tables with quietly affectionate couples who talked in undertones, a tableful of bright-coloured Jews who talked in overtones, and a family party from the Midlands, badly smitten with shyness, who did not talk at all. “A resort, of honeymoon couples,” said the doctor, and then rather knowingly: “Temporary honeymoons, I fancy, in one or two of the cases.”

      “Decidedly temporary,” said Sir Richmond, considering the company – “in most of the cases anyhow. The two in the corner might be married. You never know nowadays.”

      He became reflective…

      After lunch and coffee he rowed the doctor up the river towards Cliveden.

      “The last time I was here,” he said, returning to the subject, “I was here on a temporary honeymoon.”

      The doctor tried to look as though he had not thought that could be possible.

      “I know my Maidenhead fairly well,” said Sir Richmond. “Aquatic activities, such as rowing, punting, messing about with a boat-hook, tying up, buzzing about in motor launches, fouling other people’s boats, are merely the stage business of the drama. The ruling interests of this place are love – largely illicit – and persistent drinking… Don’t you think the bridge charming from here?”

      “I shouldn’t have thought – drinking,” said Dr. Martineau, after he had done justice to the bridge over his shoulder.

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