按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
that sees or the mood that colours。 Here is something that may fill
the skies and every waking hour or be almost completely banished
from a life。 It may be everything on Monday and less than nothing
on Saturday。 And we make our laws and rules as though in these
matters all men and women were commensurable one with another； with
an equal steadfast passion and an equal constant duty。 。 。 。
I don't know what dreams Altiora may have had in her schoolroom
days； I always suspected her of suppressed and forgotten phases； but
certainly her general effect now was of an entirely passionless
worldliness in these matters。 Indeed so far as I could get at her；
she regarded sexual passion as being hardly more legitimate in a
civilised person thanlet us sayhomicidal mania。 She must have
forgottenand Bailey too。 I suspect she forgot before she married
him。 I don't suppose either of them had the slightest intimation of
the dimensions sexual love can take in the thoughts of the great
majority of people with whom they come in contact。 They loved in
their wayan intellectual way it was and a fond waybut it had no
relation to beauty and physical sensationexcept that there seemed
a decree of exile against these things。 They got their glow in high
moments of altruistic ambitionand in moments of vivid worldly
success。 They sat at opposite ends of their dinner table with so
and so 〃captured；〃 and so and so； flushed with a mutual approval。
They saw people in love forgetful and distraught about them； and
just put it down to forgetfulness and distraction。 At any rate
Altiora manifestly viewed my situation and Margaret's with an
abnormal and entirely misleading simplicity。 There was the girl；
rich； with an acceptable claim to be beautiful； shiningly virtuous；
quite capable of political interests； and there was I； talented；
ambitious and full of political and social passion； in need of just
the money； devotion and regularisation Margaret could provide。 We
were both unmarriedwhite sheets of uninscribed paper。 Was there
ever a simpler situation？ What more could we possibly want？
She was even a little offended at the inconclusiveness that did not
settle things at Pangbourne。 I seemed to her； I suspect； to reflect
upon her judgment and good intentions。
7
I didn't see things with Altiora's simplicity。
I admired Margaret very much； I was fully aware of all that she and
I might give each other； indeed so far as Altiora went we were quite
in agreement。 But what seemed solid ground to Altiora and the
ultimate footing of her emasculated world； was to me just the
superficial covering of a gulfoh！ abysses of vague and dim； and
yet stupendously significant things。
I couldn't dismiss the interests and the passion of sex as Altiora
did。 Work； I agreed； was important； career and success； but deep
unanalysable instincts told me this preoccupation was a thing quite
as important； dangerous； interfering； destructive indeed； but none
the less a dominating interest in life。 I have told how flittingly
and uninvited it came like a moth from the outer twilight into my
life； how it grew in me with my manhood； how it found its way to
speech and grew daring； and led me at last to experience。 After
that adventure at Locarno sex and the interests and desires of sex
never left me for long at peace。 I went on with my work and my
career； and all the time it was likelike someone talking ever and
again in a room while one tries to write。
There were times when I could have wished the world a world all of
men； so greatly did this unassimilated series of motives and
curiosities hamper me； and times when I could have wished the world
all of women。 I seemed always to be seeking something in women； in
girls； and I was never clear what it was I was seeking。 But never
even at my coarsestwas I moved by physical desire alone。 Was I
seeking help and fellowship？ Was I seeking some intimacy with
beauty？ It was a thing too formless to state； that I seemed always
desiring to attain and never attaining。 Waves of gross sensuousness
arose out of this preoccupation； carried me to a crisis of
gratification or disappointment that was clearly not the needed
thing； they passed and left my mind free again for a time to get on
with the permanent pursuits of my life。 And then presently this
solicitude would have me again； an irrelevance as it seemed； and yet
a constantly recurring demand。
I don't want particularly to dwell upon things that are disagreeable
for others to read； but I cannot leave them out of my story and get
the right proportions of the forces I am balancing。 I was no
abnormal man； and that world of order we desire to make must be
built of such stuff as I was and am and can beget。 You cannot have
a world of Baileys； it would end in one orderly generation。
Humanity is begotten in Desire； lives by Desire。
〃Love which is lust； is the Lamp in the Tomb；
Love which is lust； is the Call from the Gloom。〃
I echo Henley。
I suppose the life of celibacy which the active； well…fed； well…
exercised and imaginatively stirred young man of the educated
classes is supposed to lead from the age of nineteen or twenty； when
Nature certainly meant him to marry； to thirty or more； when
civilisation permits him to do so； is the most impossible thing in
the world。 We deal here with facts that are kept secret and
obscure； but I doubt for my own part if more than one man out of
five in our class satisfies that ideal demand。 The rest are even as
I was； and Hatherleigh and Esmeer and all the men I knew。 I draw no
lessons and offer no panacea； I have to tell the quality of life；
and this is how it is。 This is how it will remain until men and
women have the courage to face the facts of life。
I was no systematic libertine； you must understand； things happened
to me and desire drove me。 Any young man would have served for that
Locarno adventure； and after that what had been a mystic and
wonderful thing passed rapidly into a gross； manifestly misdirected
and complicating one。 I can count a meagre tale of five illicit
loves in the days of my youth； to include that first experience； and
of them all only two were sustained relationships。 Besides these
five 〃affairs；〃 on one or two occasions I dipped so low as the inky
dismal sensuality of the streets； and made one of those pairs of
correlated figures； the woman in her squalid finery sailing
homeward； the man modestly aloof and behind； that every night in the
London year flit by the score of thousands across the sight of the
observant。 。 。 。
How ugly it is to recall； ugly and shameful now without
qualification！ Yet at the time there was surely something not
altogether ugly in itsomething that has vanished； some fine thing
mortally ailing。
One such occasion