the letters-1-第49部分
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them; triturate and toothless; and with the Golosh of Philosophy;
they shall not bite your heel。 True; the tenement is falling。 Ay;
friend; but yours also。 Take a larger view; what is a year or two?
dust in the balance! 'Tis done; behold you Cosmo Stevenson; and me
R。 L。 Monkhouse; you at Hyeres; I in London; you rejoicing in the
clammiest repose; me proceeding to tear your tabernacle into rags;
as I have already so admirably torn my own。
My place to which I now introduce you … it is yours … is like a
London house; high and very narrow; upon the lungs I will not
linger; the heart is large enough for a ballroom; the belly greedy
and inefficient; the brain stocked with the most damnable
explosives; like a dynamiter's den。 The whole place is well
furnished; though not in a very pure taste; Corinthian much of it;
showy and not strong。
About your place I shall try to find my way alone; an interesting
exploration。 Imagine me; as I go to bed; falling over a blood…
stained remorse; opening that cupboard in the cerebellum and being
welcomed by the spirit of your murdered uncle。 I should probably
not like your remorses; I wonder if you will like mine; I have a
spirited assortment; they whistle in my ear o' nights like a north…
easter。 I trust yours don't dine with the family; mine are better
mannered; you will hear nought of them till; 2 A。M。; except one; to
be sure; that I have made a pet of; but he is small; I keep him in
buttons; so as to avoid commentaries; you will like him much … if
you like what is genuine。
Must we likewise change religions? Mine is a good article; with a
trick of stopping; cathedral bell note; ornamental dial; supported
by Venus and the Graces; quite a summer…parlour piety。 Of yours;
since your last; I fear there is little to be said。
There is one article I wish to take away with me: my spirits。
They suit me。 I don't want yours; I like my own; I have had them a
long while in bottle。 It is my only reservation。 … Yours (as you
decide);
R。 L。 MONKHOUSE。
Letter: TO W。 E。 HENLEY
HYERES; MAY 1884。
DEAR BOY; … OLD MORTALITY is out; and I am glad to say Coggie likes
it。 We like her immensely。
I keep better; but no great shakes yet; cannot work … cannot: that
is flat; not even verses: as for prose; that more active place is
shut on me long since。
My view of life is essentially the comic; and the romantically
comic。 AS YOU LIKE IT is to me the most bird…haunted spot in
letters; TEMPEST and TWELFTH NIGHT follow。 These are what I mean
by poetry and nature。 I make an effort of my mind to be quite one
with Moliere; except upon the stage; where his inimitable JEUX DE
SCENE beggar belief; but you will observe they are stage…plays …
things AD HOC; not great Olympian debauches of the heart and fancy;
hence more perfect; and not so great。 Then I come; after great
wanderings; to Carmosine and to Fantasio; to one part of La
Derniere Aldini (which; by the by; we might dramatise in a week);
to the notes that Meredith has found; Evan and the postillion; Evan
and Rose; Harry in Germany。 And to me these things are the good;
beauty; touched with sex and laughter; beauty with God's earth for
the background。 Tragedy does not seem to me to come off; and when
it does; it does so by the heroic illusion; the anti…masque has
been omitted; laughter; which attends on all our steps in life; and
sits by the deathbed; and certainly redacts the epitaph; laughter
has been lost from these great…hearted lies。 But the comedy which
keeps the beauty and touches the terrors of our life (laughter and
tragedy…in…a…good…humour having kissed); that is the last word of
moved representation; embracing the greatest number of elements of
fate and character; and telling its story; not with the one eye of
pity; but with the two of pity and mirth。
R。 L。 S。
Letter: TO EDMUND GOSSE
FROM MY BED; MAY 29; 1884。
DEAR GOSSE; … The news of the Professorate found me in the article
of … well; of heads or tails; I am still in bed; and a very poor
person。 You must thus excuse my damned delay; but; I assure you; I
was delighted。 You will believe me the more; if I confess to you
that my first sentiment was envy; yes; sir; on my blood…boltered
couch I envied the professor。 However; it was not of long
duration; the double thought that you deserved and that you would
thoroughly enjoy your success fell like balsam on my wounds。 How
came it that you never communicated my rejection of Gilder's offer
for the Rhone? But it matters not。 Such earthly vanities are over
for the present。 This has been a fine well…conducted illness。 A
month in bed; a month of silence; a fortnight of not stirring my
right hand; a month of not moving without being lifted。 Come! CA
Y EST: devilish like being dead。 … Yours; dear Professor;
academically;
R。 L。 S。
I am soon to be moved to Royat; an invalid valet goes with me! I
got him cheap … second…hand。
In turning over my late friend Ferrier's commonplace book; I find
three poems from VIOL AND FLUTE copied out in his hand: 'When
Flower…time;' 'Love in Winter;' and 'Mistrust。' They are capital
too。 But I thought the fact would interest you。 He was no poetist
either; so it means the more。 'Love in W。!' I like the best。
Letter: TO MR。 AND MRS。 THOMAS STEVENSON
HOTEL CHABASSIERE; ROYAT; 'JULY 1884'。
MY DEAR PEOPLE; … The weather has been demoniac; I have had a skiff
of cold; and was finally obliged to take to bed entirely; to…day;
however; it has cleared; the sun shines; and I begin to
(SEVERAL DAYS AFTER。)
I have been out once; but now am back in bed。 I am better; and
keep better; but the weather is a mere injustice。 The imitation of
Edinburgh is; at times; deceptive; there is a note among the
chimney pots that suggests Howe Street; though I think the
shrillest spot in Christendom was not upon the Howe Street side;
but in front; just under the Miss Graemes' big chimney stack。 It
had a fine alto character … a sort of bleat that used to divide the
marrow in my joints … say in the wee; slack hours。 That music is
now lost to us by rebuilding; another air that I remember; not
regret; was the solo of the gas…burner in the little front room; a
knickering; flighty; fleering; and yet spectral cackle。 I mind it
above all on winter afternoons; late; when the window was blue and
spotted with rare rain…drops; and; looking out; the cold evening
was seen blue all over; with the lamps of Queen's and Frederick's
Street dotting it with yellow; and flaring east…ward in the
squalls。 Heavens; how unhappy I have been in such circumstances …
I; who have now positively forgotten the colour of unhappiness; who
am full like a fed ox; and dull like a fresh turf; and have no more
spiritual life; for good or evil; than a French bagman。
We are at Chabassiere's; for of course it was nonsense to go up the
hill when we could not walk。
The child's poems in a far extended form are likely soon to be
heard of … which Cummy I dare say will be glad to know。 They will
make a book of about one hundred pages。 … Ever your affectionate;
R。 L。 S。
Letter: TO SIDNEY COLVIN
'ROYAT; JULY 1884。'
。 。 。 HERE is a quaint thing; I have read ROBINSON; COLONEL JACK;
MOLL FLANDERS; MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER; HISTORY OF THE PLAGUE;
HISTORY OF THE GREAT STORM; SCOTCH CHURCH AND UNION。 And there my
knowledge of Defoe ends … except a book; the name of which I
forget; about Peterborough in Spain; which Defoe obviously did not
write; and could not have written if he wanted。 To which of these
does B。 J。 refer? I guess it must be the history of the Scottish
Church。 I jest; for; of course; I KNOW it must be a book I have
never read; and which this makes me keen to read … I mean CAPTAIN
SINGLETON。 Can it be got and sent to me? If TREASURE ISLAND is at
all like it; it will be delightful。 I was just the other day
wondering at my folly in not remembering it; when I was writing T。
I。; as a mine for pirate tips。 T。 I。 came out of Kingsley's AT
LAST; where I got the Dead Man's Chest … and that was the seed …
and out of the great Captain Johnson's HISTORY OF NOTORIOUS
PIRATES。 The scenery is Californian in part; and in part CHIC。
I was downstairs to…day! So now I am a made man … till the next
time。
R。 L。 STEVENSON。
If it was CAPTAIN SINGLETON; send it to me; won't you?
LATER。 … My life dwindles into a kind of valley of the shadow
picnic。 I cannot read; so much of the time (as to…day) I must not
speak above my breath; that to play patience; or to see my wife
play it; is become the be…all and the end…all of my dim career。 To
add to my gaiety; I may write letters; but there are few to answer。
Patience and Poesy are thus my rod and staff; with these I not
unpleasantly support my days。
I am very dim; dumb; dowie; and damnable。 I hate to be silenced;
and if to talk by signs is my forte (as I contend); to understand
them cannot be my wife's。 Do not think me unhappy; I have not been
so for years; but I am blurred; inhabit the debatable frontier of
sleep; and have but dim designs upon activity。 All is at a
standstill; books closed; paper put aside; the voice; the eternal
voice of R。 L。 S。; well silenced。 Hence this plaint reaches you
with no very great meaning; no very great purpose; and written part
in slumber by a heavy; dull; somnolent; superannuated son of a
bedpost。
CHAPTER VII … LIFE AT BOURNEMOUTH; SEPTEMBER 1884…DECEMBER 1885
Letter: TO MR。 AND MRS。 THOMAS STEVENSON
WENSLEYDALE; BOURNEMOUTH; SUNDAY; 28TH SEPTEMBER 1884。
MY DEAR PEOPLE; … I keep bette