brideshead+revisited-第40部分

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s。〃　Pompous；　you　know。　It　takes　people　different　ways。　Anyhow；　the　family　haven't　been　very　constant；　have　they？　There's　him　gone　and　Sebastian　gone　and　Julia　gone。　But　God　won't　let　them　go　for　long；　you　know。　I　wonder　if　you　remember　the　story　mummy　read　us　the　evening　Sebastian　first　got　drunk　I　mean　the　bad　evening。　〃Father　Brown〃　said　something　like　〃I　caught　him〃　（the　thief）　〃with　an　unseen　hook　and　an　invisible　line　which　is　long　enough　to　let　him　wander　to　the　ends　of　the　world　and　still　to　bring　him　back　with　a　twitch　upon　the　thread。〃'
　　　　We　scarcely　mentioned　her　mother。　All　the　time　we　talked；　she　ate　voraciously。　Once　she　said：
　　　　'Did　you　see　Sir　Adrian　Porson's　poem　in　The　Times？　It's　funny：　he　knew　her　best　of　anyone　…　he　loved　her　all　his　life；　you　know　…　and　yet　it　doesn't　seem　to　have　anything　to　do　with　her　at　all。
　　　　'I　got　on　best　with　her　of　any　of　us；　but　I　don't　believe　I　ever　really　loved　her。　Not　as　she　wanted　or　deserved。　It's　odd　I　didn't；　because　I'm　full　of　natural　affections。'
　　　　'I　never　really　knew　your　Mother；'　I　said。
　　　　'You　didn't　like　her。　I　sometimes　think　when　people　wanted　to　hate　God　they　hated　mummy。'
　　　　'What　do　you　mean　by　that；　Cordelia？'
　　　　'Well；　you　see；　she　was　saintly　but　she　wasn't　a　saint。　No　one　could　really　hate　a　saint；　could　they？　They　can't　really　hate　God　either。　When　they　want　to　hate　him　and　his　saints；　they　have　to　find　something　like　themselves　and　pretend　it's　God　and　hate　that。　I　suppose　you　think　that's　all　bosh。'
　　　　'I　heard　almost　the　same　thing　once　before　…　from　someone　very　different。'
　　　　'Oh；　I'm　quite　serious。　I've　thought　about　it　a　lot。　It　seems　to　explain　poor　mummy。'
　　　　Then　this　odd　child　tucked　into　her　dinner　with　renewed　relish。　'First　time　I've　ever　been　taken　out　to　dinner　alone　at　a　restaurant；'　she　said。
　　　　Later：　'When　Julia　heard　they　were　selling　Marchers　she　said：　〃Poor　Cordelia。　She　won't　have　her　ing…out　ball　there　after　all。〃　It's　a　thing　we　used　to　talk　about　…　like　my　being　her　bridesmaid。　That　didn't　e　off　either。　When　Julia　had　her　ball　I　was　allowed　down　for　an　hour；　to　sit　in　the　corner　with　Aunt　Fanny；　and　she　said；　〃In　six　years'　time　you'll　have　all　this。〃。。。I　hope　I've　got　a　vocation。'
　　　　'I　don't　know　what　that　means。'
　　　　'It　means　you　can　be　a　nun。　If　you　haven't　a　vocation　it's　no　good　however　much　you　want　to　be；　and　if　you　have　a　vocation；　you　can't　get　away　from　it；　however　much　you　hate　it。　Bridey　thinks　he　has　a　vocation　and　hasn't。　I　used　to　think　Sebastian　had　and　hated　it　…　but　I　don't　know　now。　Everything　has　changed　so　much　suddenly。'
　　　　But　I　had　no　patience　with　this　convent　chatter。　I　had　felt　the　brush　take　life　in　my　hand　that　afternoon；　I　had　had　my　finger　in　the　great；　succulent　pie　of　creation。　I　was　a　man　of　the　Renaissance　that　evening　…　of　Browning's　renaissance。　I；　who　had　walked　the　streets　of　Rome　in　Genoa　velvet　and　had　seen　the　stars　through　Galileo's　tube；　spurned　the　friars；　with　their　dusty　tomes　and　their　sunken；　jealous　eyes　and　their　crabbed　hairsplitting　speech。
　　　　'You'll　fall　in　love；'　I　said。
　　　　'Oh；　pray　not。　I　say；　do　you　think　I　could　have　another　of　those　scrumptious　meringues？'

BOOK　THREE

A　TWITCH　UPON　THE　THREAD

＇1＇

MY　theme　is　memory；　that　winged　host　that　soared　about　me　one　grey　morning　of　war…time。
　　　　These　memories；　which　are　my　life　…　for　we　possess　nothing　certainly　except　the　past　…　were　always　with　me。　Like　the　pigeons　of　St　Mark's；　they　were　everywhere；　under　my　feet；　singly；　in　pairs；　in　little　honey…voiced　congregations；　nodding；　strutting；　winking；　rolling　the　tender　feathers　of　their　necks；　perching　sometimes；　if　I　stood　still；　on　my　shoulder；　until；　suddenly；　the　noon　gun　boomed　and　in　a　moment；　with　a　flutter　and　sweep　of　wings；　the　pavement　was　bare　and　the　whole　sky　above　dark　with　a　tumult　of　fowl。　Thus　it　was　that　morning　of　war…time。
　　　　For　nearly　ten　dead　years　after　that　evening　with　Cordelia　I　was　borne　along　a　road　outwardly　full　of　change　and　incident；　but　never　during　that　time；　except　sometimes　in　my　painting　…　and　that　at　longer　and　longer　intervals　…　did　I　e　alive　as　I　had　been　during　the　time　of　my　friendship　with　Sebastian。　I　took　it　to　be　youth；　not　life；　that　I　was　losing。　My　work　upheld　me；　for　I　had　chosen　to　do　what　I　could　do　well；　did　better　daily；　and　liked　doing；　incidentally　it　was　something　which　no　one　else　at　that　time　was　attempting　to　do。　I　became　an　architectural　painter。
　　　　More　even　than　the　work　of　the　great　architects；　I　loved　buildings　that　grew　silently　with　the　centuries；　catching　and　keeping　the　best　of　each　generation；　while　time　curbed　the　artist's　pride　and　the　Philistine's　vulgarity；　and　repaired　the　clumsiness　of　the　dull　workman。　In　such　buildings　England　abounded；　and；　in　the　last　decade　of　their　grandeur；　Englishmen　seemed　for　the　first　time　to　bee　conscious　of　what　before　was　taken　for　granted；　and　to　salute　their　achievement　at　the　moment　of　extinction。　Hence　my　prosperity；　far　beyond　my　merits；　my　work　had　nothing　to　remend　it　except　my　growing　technical　skill；　enthusiasm　for　my　subject；　and　independence　of　popular　notions。
　　　　The　financial　slump　of　the　period；　which　left　many　painters　without　employment；　served　to　enhance　my　success；　which　was；　indeed；　itself　a　symptom　of　the　decline。　When　the　water…holes　were　dry　people　sought　to　drink　at　the　mirage。　After　my　first　exhibition　I　was　called　to　all　parts　of　the　country　to　make　portraits　of　houses　that　were　soon　to　be　deserted　or　debased；　indeed；　my　arrival　seemed　often　to　be　only　a　few　paces　ahead　of　the　auctioneer's；　a　presage　of　doom。
　　　　I　published　three　splendid　folios　…　Ryder's　Country　Seats；　Ryder's　English　Homes；　and　Ryder's　Village　and　Provincial　Architecture；　which　each　sold　its　thousand　copies　at　five　guineas　apiece。　I　seldom　failed　to　please；　for　there　was　no　conflict　between　myself　and　my　patrons；　we　both　wanted　the　same　thing。　But；　as　the　years　passed；　I　began　to　mourn　the　loss　of　something　I　had　known　in　the　drawing…room　of　Marchmain　House　and　once　or　twice　since；　the　intensity　and　singleness　and　the　belief　that　it　was　not　all　done　by　hand　…　in　a　word；　the　inspiration。
　　　　In　quest　of　this　fading　light　I　went　abroad；　in　the　augustan　manner；　laden　with　the　apparatus　of　my　trade；　for　two　years'　refreshment　among　alien　styles。　I　did　not　go　to　Europe；　her　treasures　were　safe；　too　safe；　swaddled　in　expert　care；　obscured　by　reverence。　Europe　could　wait。　There　would　be　a　time　for　Europe；　I　thought；　all　too　soon　the　days　would　e　when　I　should　need　a　man　at　my　side　to　put　up　my　easel　and　carry　my　paints；　when　I　could　not　venture　more　than　an　hour's　journey　from　a　good　hotel；　when　I　should　need　soft　breezes　and　mellow　sunshine　all　day　long；　then　I　would　take　my　old　eyes　to　Germany　and　Italy。　Now　while　I　had　the　strength　I　would　go　to　the　wild　lands　where　man　had　deserted　his　post　and　the　jungle　was　creeping　back　to　its　old　strongholds。
　　　　Accordingly；　by　slow　but　not　easy　stages；　I　travelled　through　Mexico　and　Central　America　in　a　world　which　had　all　I　needed；　and　the　change　from　parkland　and　hall　should　have　quickened　me　and　set　me　right　with　myself。　I　sought　inspiration　among　gutted　palaces　and　cloisters　embowered　in　weed；　derelict　churches　where　the　vampire…bats　hung　in　the　dome　like　dry　seed…pods　and　only　the　ants　were　ceaselessly　astir　tunnelling　in　the　rich　stalls；　cities　where　no　road　led；　and　mausoleums　where　a　single；　agued　family　of　Indians　sheltered　from　the　rains。　There　in　great　labour；　sickness；　and　occasionally　in　some　danger；　I　made　the　first　drawings　for　Ryder's　Latin　America。　Every　few　weeks　I　came　to　rest；　finding　myself　once　more　in　the　zone　of　trade　or　tourism；　recuperated；　set　up　my　studio；　transcribed　my　sketches；　anxiously　packed　the　plete　canvases；　dispatched　them　to　my　New　York　agent；　and　then　set　out　again；　with　my　small　retinue；　into　the　wastes。
　　　　I　was　in　no　great　pains　to　keep　in　touch　with　England。　I　followed　local　advice　for　my　itinerary　and　had　no　settled　route；　so　that　much　of　my　mail　never　reached　me；　and　the　rest　accumulated　until　there　was　more　than　could　be　read　at　a　sitting。　I　used　to　stuff　a　bundle　of　letters　into　my　bag　and　read　them　when　I　felt　inclined；　which　was　in　circumstances　so　incongruous　swinging　in　my　hammock；　under　the　net；　by　the　light　of　a　storm…lantern；　drifting　down　river；　amidships　in　the　canoe；　with　the　boys　astern　of　me　lazily　keeping　our　nose　out　of　the　bank；　with　the　dark　water　keeping　pace　with　us；　in　the　green　shade；　with　the　great　trees　towering　above　us　and　the　monkeys　screeching　in　the　sunlight；　high　overhead　among　the　flowers　on　the　roof　of　the　forest；　on　the　veranda　of　a　hospitable　ranch；　where　the　ice　and　the　dice　clicked；　and　a　tiger　cat　played　with　its　chain　on　the　mown　grass　…　that　they　seemed　voices　so　distant　as　to　be　meaningless；　their　matter　passed　clean　through　the　mind；　and　out　leaving　no　mark；　like　the　facts　about　themselves　which　fellow　travellers　distribute　so　freely　in　American　railway　trains。
　　　　But　despite　this　isolation　and　this　long　sojourn　in　a　strange　world；　I　remained　unchanged；　still　a　small　part　of　myself　pretending　to　be　whole。　I　discarded　the　experiences　of　those　two　years　with　my　tropical　kit　and　returned　to　New　York　as　I　had　set　out。　I　had　a　fine　haul　…　eleven　paintings　and　fifty　odd　drawings　and　when　eventually　I　exhibited　them　in　London；　the　art　critics　many　of　whom　hitherto　had　been　patronizing　in　tone；　as　my　success　invited；　acclaimed　a　new　and　richer　note　in　my　work。　Mr　Ryder；　the　most　respected　of　them　wrote；　rises　like　a　fresh　young　trout　to　the　hypodermic　injection　of　a　new　culture　and　discloses　a　powerful　facet　in　the　vista　of　his　potentialities。。。。By　focusing　the　frankly　traditional　battery　of　his　elegance　and　erudition　on　the　maelstrom　of　barbarism；　Mr　Ryder　has　at　last　found　himself。
　　　　Grateful　words；　but；　alas；　not　true　by　a　long　chalk。　My　wife；　who　crossed　to　New　York　to　meet　me　and　saw　the　fruits　of　our　separation　displayed　in　my　agent's　office；　summed　the　thing　up　better　by　saying：　'Of　course；　I　can　see　they're　perfectly　brilliant　and　really　rather　beautiful　in　a　sinister　way；　but　somehow　I　don't　feel　they　are　quite　you。'

　　　　In　Europe　my　wife　was　sometimes　taken　for　an　American　because　of　her　dapper　and