Let us begin with the psychiatrist2. John’s verdict on this eminent3 manipulator of minds seemed to me to show both his contempt for Homo sapiens and his sympathetic appreciation4 of the difficulties of beings that are neither sheer animal nor fully5 human.
After our last visit to the consulting-room, indeed before the door was closed behind us, John indulged in a long chuckling6 laugh that reminded me of the cry of a startled grouse7. “Poor devil!” he cried. “What else could he do anyhow? He’s got to seem wise at all costs, even when he’s absolutely blank. He’s in the same fix as a successful medium. He’s not just a quack8. There’s a lot of real sound stuff in his trade. No doubt when he’s dealing9 with straightforward10 cases of a fairly low mental order, with troubles that are at bottom primitive11, he fixes them up all right. But even then he doesn’t really know what he’s doing or how he gets his cures. Of course, he has his theories, and they’re damned useful, too. He gives the wretched patient doses of twaddle, as a doctor might give bread pills, and the poor fool laps it all up and feels hopeful and manages to cure himself. But when another sort of case comes along, who is living habitually12 on a mental storey about six floors above our friend’s own snug13 little flat, so to speak, there must be a glorious fiasco. How can a mind of his calibre possibly understand a mind that’s at all aware of the really human things? I don’t mean the highbrow things. I mean subtle human contacts, and world contacts. He is a sort of highbrow, with his modern pictures and his books on the unconscious. But he’s not human in the full sense, even according to the standards of Homo sapiens. He’s not really grown up. And so, though he doesn’t know it, the poor man is all at sea when he comes up against really grown-up people. For instance, in spite of his modern pictures, he hasn’t a notion what art is after, though he thinks he has. And he knows less of philosophy, real philosophy, than an ostrich14 knows about the upper air. You can’t blame him. His wings just wouldn’t carry his big fleshy pedestrian mind. But that’s no reason why he should make matters worse by burying his head in the sand and kidding himself he sees the foundations of human nature. When a really winged case comes along, with all sorts of troubles due to not giving his wings exercise, our friend hasn’t the slightest perception what’s the matter. He says in effect, ‘Wings? What’s wings? Just flapdoodle. Look at mine. Get ’em atrophied15 as quick as possible, and bury your head in the sand to make sure.’ In fact he puts the patients into a sort of coma16 of the spirit. If it lasts, he’s permanently17 ‘cured’, poor man, and completely worthless. Often it does last, because your psychiatrist is an extremely good suggestionist. He could turn a saint into a satyr by mere18 sleight19 of mind. God! Think of a civilization that hands over the cure of souls to toughs like that! Of course, you can’t blame him. He’s a decent sort on his own plane, and doing his bit. But it’s no use expecting a vet20 to mend a fallen angel.”
If John was critical of psychiatry21, he was no less so of the churches. It was not only with the purpose of studying Homo sapiens that he had begun to take an interest in religious practices and doctrines22. His motive23 was partly (so he told me) the hope that some light might be thrown upon certain new and perplexing experiences of his own which might perhaps be of the kind that the normal species called religious. He actually attended a few services at churches and chapels25. He always returned from these expeditions in a state of excitement, which found outlet26 sometimes in ribald jests about the proceedings27, sometimes in almost hysterical28 exasperation29 and perplexity. Coming out from an emotional chapel24 service of the Bethel type he remarked, “Ninety-nine per cent, slush and one per cent. — something else, but what?” A tensity about his voice made me turn to look at him. To my amazement30 I saw tears in his eyes. Now John’s lachrymatory reflexes were normally under absolute voluntary control. Since his infancy31 I had never known him weep except by deliberate policy. Yet these were apparently32 spontaneous tears, and he seemed unconscious of them. Suddenly he laughed and said, “This soul-saving! If one were God, wouldn’t one laugh at it, or squirm! What does it matter whether we’re saved or not? Sheer blasphemy33 to want to be, I should say. But what is it that does matter, and comes through all the slush like light through a filthy34 window?”
On Armistice35 Day he persuaded me to go with him to a service in a Roman Catholic cathedral. The great building was crowded. Artificiality and insincerity were blotted36 out by the solemnity of the occasion. The ritual was somehow disturbing even to an agnostic like me. One felt a rather terrifying sense of the power which worship in the grand tradition could have upon massed and susceptible37 believers.
John had entered the cathedral in his normal mood of aloof38 interest in the passions of Homo sapiens. But as the service proceeded, he became less aloof and more absorbed. He ceased to look about him with his inscrutable hawklike39 stare. His attention, I felt, was no longer concentrated on individuals of the congregation, or on the choir40, or on the priest, but on the totality of the situation. An expression strangely foreign to all that I knew of him now began to flicker41 on his face, an expression with which I was to become very familiar in later years, but cannot to this day satisfactorily interpret. It suggested surprise, perplexity, a kind of incredulous rapture42, and withal a slightly bitter amusement. I naturally assumed that John was relishing43 the folly44 and self-importance of our kind; but when we were leaving the cathedral he startled me by saying, “How splendid it might be, if only they could keep from wanting their God to be human!” He must have seen that I was taken aback for he laughed and said, “Oh, of course I see it’s nearly all tripe45. That priest! The way he bows to the altar is enough to show the sort he is. The whole thing is askew46, intellectually and emotionally; but — well, don’t you get that echo of something not wrong, of some experience that happened ages ago, and was right and glorious? I suppose it happened to Jesus and his friends. And something remotely like it was happening to about a fiftieth of that congregation. Couldn’t you feel it happening? But, of course, as soon as they got it they spoilt it by trying to fit it all into the damned silly theories their Church gives them.”
I suggested to John that this excitement which he and others experienced was just the sense of a great crowd and a solemn occasion, and that we should not “project” that excitement, and persuade ourselves we were in touch with something superhuman.
John looked quickly at me, then burst into hearty47 laughter. “My dear man,” he said, and this I believe was almost the first time he used this devastating48 expression, “even if you can’t tell the difference between being excited by a crowd and the other thing, I can. And a good many of your own kind can, too, till they let the psychologists muddle49 them.”
I tried to persuade him to be more explicit50, but he only said, “I’m just a kid, and it’s all new to me. Even Jesus couldn’t really say what it was he saw. As a matter of fact, he didn’t try to say much about it. He talked mostly about the way it could change people. When he did talk about it, itself, he nearly always said the wrong thing, or else they reported him all wrong. But how do I know? I’m only a kid.”
It was in a very different mood that John returned from an interview with a dignitary of the Anglican Church, one who was at the time well known for his efforts to revitalize the Church by making its central doctrines live once more in men’s hearts. John had been away for some days. When he returned he seemed much less interested in the Churchman than in an earlier encounter with a Communist. After listening to a disquisition on Marxism I said, “But what about the Reverend Gentleman?”
“Oh, yes, of course, there was the Reverend Gentleman, too. A dear man, so sensible and understanding. I wish the Communist bloke could be a bit sensible, and a bit dear. But Homo sapiens evidently can’t be that when he has any sort of fire in him. Funny how members of your species, when they do get any sort of real insight and grasp some essential truth, like Communism, nearly always go crazy with it. Funny, too, what a religious fellow that Communist really is. Of course, he doesn’t know it, and he hates the word. Says men ought to care for Man and nothing else. A moral sort of cove51, he is, full of ‘oughts.’ Denies morality, and then damns people for not being Communist saints. Says men are all fools or knaves52 or waiters unless you can get ’em to care for the Class War. Of course, he tells you the Class War is needed to emancipate53 the Workers. But what really gets him about it isn’t that. The fire inside him, though he doesn’t know it, is a passion for what he calls dialectical materialism54, for the dialectic of history. The one selfishness in him is the longing55 to be an instrument of the Dialectic, and oddly enough what he really means by that, in his heart of hearts, is what Christians56 so quaintly58 describe as the law of God, or God’s will. Strange! He says the sound element in Christianity was love of one’s fellow men. But he doesn’t really love them, not as actual persons. He’d slaughter59 the lot of them if he thought that was part of the dialectic of history. What he really shares with Christians, real Christians, is a most obscure but teasing, firing awareness60 of something super-individual. Of course, he thinks it’s just the mass of individuals, the group. But he’s wrong. What’s the group, anyhow, but just everybody lumped together, and nearly all fools or limps or knaves? It’s not simply the group that fires him. It’s justice, righteousness, and the whole spiritual music that ought to be made by the group. Damned funny that! Of course, I know all Communists are not religious, some are merely — well, like that bloody61 little man the other day. But this fellow is religious. And so was Lenin, I guess. It’s not enough to say his root motive was desire to avenge62 his brother. In a sense that’s true. But one can feel behind nearly everything he said a sense of being the chosen instrument of Fate, of the Dialectic, of what might almost as well be called God.”
“And the Reverend Gentleman?” I queried63.
“The Reverend Gentleman? Oh, him! Well, he’s religious in about the same sense as firelight is sunshine. The coal-trees once lapped up the sun’s full blaze, and now in the grate they give off a glow and a flicker that snugs64 up his room nicely, so long as the curtains are drawn65 and the night kept at arm’s length. Outside, every one is floundering about in the dark and the wet, and all he can do is to tell them to make a nice little fire and squat66 down in front of it. One or two he actually fetches into his own beautiful room, and they drip all over the carpet, and leave muddy marks, and spit into the fire. He gets very unhappy about it, but he puts up with it nobly because, though he hasn’t a notion what worship is, he does up to a point try to love his neighbours. Funny, that, when you think of the Communist who doesn’t. Of course, if people got really nasty, the Reverend would phone the police.”
Lest the reader should suppose that John was not critical of the Communists, I will quote some of his comments on that other Communist, referred to above. “He knows in an obscure way that he’s an utter waster, though he pretends to himself that he’s noble and unfortunate. Of course he is unfortunate, frightfully unfortunate, in being the sort he is. And of course that’s society’s fault as much as his own. So the wretched creature has to spend his life putting out his tongue at society, or at the powers that be in society. He’s just a hate-bag. But even his hate isn’t really sincere. It’s a posture67 of self-defence, self-justification, not like the hate that smashed the Tsar, and turned creative and made Russia. Things haven’t got bad enough for that in England yet. At present all that can be done by blokes like this is to spout68 hate and give the other side a fine excuse for repressing Communism. Of course, hosts of well-off people and would-be-well-off people are just as ashamed of themselves subconsciously69 as that blighter, and just as full of hate, and in need of a scapegoat70 to exercise their hate upon. He and his like are a godsend to them.”
I said there was more excuse for the have-nots to hate than for the haves. This remark brought from John a bit of analysis and prophecy that has since been largely justified71.
“You talk,” he said, “as if hate were rational, as if men only hated what they had reason to hate. If you want to understand modern Europe and the world, you have to keep in mind three things that are really quite distinct although they are all tangled72 up together. First there’s this almost universal need to hate something, rationally or irrationally74, to find something to unload your own sins on to, and then smash it. In perfectly75 healthy minds (even of your species) this need to hate plays a small part. But nearly all minds are damnably unhealthy, and so they must have something to hate. Mostly, they just hate their neighbours or their wives or husbands or parents or children. But they get a much more exalted76 sort of excitement by hating foreigners. A nation, after all, is just a society for hating foreigners, a sort of super-hate-club. The second thing to bear in mind is the obvious one of economic disorder77. The people with economic power try to run the world for their own profit. Not long ago they succeeded, more or less, but now the job has got beyond them, and, as we all know, there’s the hell of a mess. This gives hate a new outlet. The have-nots with very good reason exercise their hate upon the haves, who have made the mess and can’t clean it up. The haves fear and therefore zestfully78 hate the have-nots. What people can’t realize is that if there were no deep-rooted need to hate in almost every mind the social problem would be at least intelligently faced, perhaps solved. Then there’s the third factor, namely, the growing sense that there’s something all wrong with modern solely-scientific culture. I don’t mean that people are intellectually doubtful about science. It’s much deeper than that. They are simply finding that modern culture isn’t enough to live by. It just doesn’t work in practice. It has got a screw loose somewhere. Or some vital bit of it is dead. Now this horror against modern culture, against science and mechanization and standardization79, is only just beginning to be a serious factor. It’s newer than Bolshevism. The Bolshies, and all the socially left-wing people, are still content with modern culture. Or rather, they put all its faults down to capitalism80, dear innocent theorists. But the essence of it they still accept. They’re rationalistic, scientific, mechanistic, brass-tack-istic. But another crowd, scattered81 about all over the place, are having the hell of a deep revulsion against all this. They don’t know what’s the matter with it, but they’re sure it’s not enough. Some of them, feeling that lack, just creep back into church, specially82 the Roman Church. But too much water has passed under the bridge since the churches were alive, so that’s no real use. The crowds who can’t swallow the Christian57 dope are terribly in need of something, though they don’t know what, or even know they’re in need at all. And this deep need gets mixed up with their hate-need; and, if they’re middle class, it gets mixed up also with their fear of social revolution. And this fear, along with their hate-need, may get played on by any crook83 with an axe84 to grind, or by any able man with an itch85 for bossing. That’s what happened in Italy. That sort of thing will spread. I’d bet my boots that in a few years there’ll be a tremendous anti-left movement all over Europe, inspired partly by fear and hate, partly by that vague, fumbling86 suspicion that there’s something all wrong with scientific culture. It’s more than an intellectual suspicion. It’s a certainty of the bowels87, call it a sort of brute-blind religious hunger. Didn’t you feel the beginnings of it in Germany last year when we were there? A deep, still-unconscious revulsion from mechanism88, and from rationality, and from democracy, and from sanity89. That’s it, a confused craving90 to be mad, possessed91 in some way. Just the thing for the well-to-do haters to use for their own ends. That’s what’s going to get Europe. And its power depends on its being a hotch-potch of self-seeking, sheer hate, and this bewildered hunger of the soul, which is so worthy92 and so easily twisted into something bloody. If Christianity could hold it in and discipline it, it might do wonders. But Christianity’s played out. So these folk will probably invent some ghastly religion of their own. Their God will be the God of the hate-club, the nation. That’s what’s coming. The new Messiahs (one for each tribe) won’t triumph by love and gentleness, but by hate and ruthlessness. Just because that’s what you all really want, at the bottom of your poor diseased bowels and crazy minds. Jesus Christ!”
I was not much impressed by this tirade93. I said the best minds had outgrown94 that old tribal95 god, and the rest would follow the best minds in the long run. John’s laughter disconcerted me.
“The best minds!” he said. “One of the main troubles of your unhappy species is that the best minds can go even farther astray than the second best, much farther than the umpteenth96 best. That’s what has been happening during the last few centuries. Swarms97 of the best minds have been leading the populace down blind alley98 after blind alley, and doing it with tremendous courage and resource. Your trouble, as a species, is that you can’t keep hold of everything at once. Any one who is very wide awake toward one set of facts invariably loses sight of all the other equally important sets. And as you have practically no inner experience to orientate99 you, compass-wise, to the cardinal100 points of reality, there’s no telling how far astray you’ll go, once you start in the wrong direction.”
Here I interjected, “Surely that is one of the penalties of being gifted with intelligence; it may lead one forward, but it may lead one badly astray.”
John replied, “It’s one of the penalties of being more than beast and less than fully human. Pterodactyls had a great advantage over the old-fashioned creepy-crawly lizards101, but they had their special dangers. Because they could fly a bit, they could crash. Finally, they were outclassed by birds. Well, I’m a bird.”
He paused, and then said, “Centuries ago all the best minds were in the Church. In those days there was nothing to compare with Christianity for practical significance and theoretical interest. And so the best minds swarmed102 upon it, and generation after generation of them used their bright intelligences on it. Little by little they smothered103 the actual living spirit of religion, with their busy theorizing. Not only so but they also used their religion, or rather their precious doctrines, to explain all physical events. Presently there came along a generation of best minds that found all this ratiocination105 very unconvincing, and began watching how things really did happen in physical nature. They and their successors made modern science, and gave man physical power, and changed the face of the earth. All this was as impressive in its own way as the effects of religion had been, real live religion, in a quite different way, centuries earlier. So now nearly all the best minds buzzed off to science, or to the job of working out a new scientific view of the universe and a new scientific way of feeling and acting106. And being so impressed by science and by industry and the business attitude to life, they lost whatever trace of the old religion they ever had, and also they became even more blind to their own inner nature than they need have been. They were too busy with science, or industry, or empire-building, to bother about interior things. Of course, a few of the best minds, and some ordinary folk, had mistrusted fashionable thought all the way through. But after the war mistrust became widespread. The war made Nineteenth Century culture look pretty silly, didn’t it? So what happened? Some of the best minds (the best minds, mind you) tumbled helter-skelter back to the Churches. Others, the most social ones, declared that we ought all to live to improve mankind, or to make the future generations happy. Others, feeling that mankind was really past hope, just struck a fine attitude of despair, based either on contempt and hate of their fellows or on a compassion107 which was at bottom self-pity. Others, the bright young things of literature and art, set out to enjoy themselves as best they might in a crashing world. They were out for pleasure at any price, pleasure not entirely108 unrefined. For instance, though they demanded unrestrained sexual pleasure, it was to be highly conscious and discriminating109. They also demanded aesthetic110 pleasure of a rather self-indulgent sort, and the thoroughly111 self-indulgent pleasure of tasting ideas, just for their spiciness112 or tang, so to speak. Bright young things! Yes, blowflies of a decaying civilization. Poor wretches113! How they must hate themselves, really. But damn it, after all, they’re mostly good stuff gone wrong.”
John had recently spent some weeks studying the intelligentsia. He had made his entry into Bloomsbury by acting the part of a precocious114 genius, and allowing a well-known writer to exhibit him as a curio. Evidently he flung himself into the life of these brilliant and disorientated young men and women with characteristic thoroughness, for when he returned he was something of a wreck115. I need not retail116 his account of his experiences, but his analysis of the plight117 of the leaders of our thought is worth reporting.
“You see,” he said, “they really are in a sense the leaders of thought, or leaders of fashion in thought. What they think and feel today, the rest think and feel next year or so. And some of them really are, according to the standards of Hom. sap., first-class minds, or might have been, in different circumstances, (Of course, most are just riff-raff, but they don’t count.) Well, the situation’s really very simple, and very desperate. Here is the centre to which nearly all the best sensibility and best intellect of the country gets attracted in the expectation of meeting its kind and enriching its experience; but what happens? The poor little flies find themselves caught in a web, a subtle mesh118 of convention, so subtle in fact that most of them are unaware119 of it. They buzz and buzz and imagine they are free fliers, when as a matter of fact each one is stuck fast on his particular strand120 of the web. Of course, they have the reputation of being the most unconventional people of all. The centre imposes on them a convention of unconventionality, of daring thought and conduct. But they can only be ‘daring’ within the limits of their convention. They have a sameness of intellectual and moral taste which makes them fundamentally all alike in spite of their quite blatant121 superficial differences. That wouldn’t matter so much if their taste were really discriminate122 taste, but it’s not, in most cases; and such innate123 powers of precision and delicacy124 as they actually have get dulled by the convention. If the convention were a sound one, all might be well, but it’s not. It consists in trying to be ‘brilliant’ and ‘original’, and in craving ‘experience’. Some of them are brilliant and original according to the standards of your species; and some of them have the gift for experience. But when they do achieve brilliance125 and experience, this is in spite of the web, and consists at best in a certain flutter and agitation126, not in flight. The influence of the all-pervading convention turns brilliance into brightness, originality127 into perversity128, and deadens the mind to all but the cruder sorts of experience. I don’t mean merely crudity129 in sex-experience and personal relations, though indeed their quite sound will to break the old customs and avoid sentimentality at all costs has led them in the end to a jading131 and coarsening extravagance. What I mean is crudity of — well, of spirit. Though they are often very intelligent (for your species) they haven’t got any of the finer aspects of experience to use their intelligence on. And that seems to be due partly to a complete lack of spiritual discipline, partly to an obscure, half-conscious funk. You see they’re all very sensitive creatures, very susceptible to pleasure and pain; and early in their lives, whenever they bumped into anything like a fundamental experience, they found it terribly upsetting. And so they formed habits of avoiding that sort of thing. And they made up for this persistent132 avoidance by drenching133 themselves in all sorts of minor134 and superficial (though sensational) experiences; and also by talking big about Experience with a capital E, and buzzing intellectually.”
This analysis made me feel uncomfortable, for though I was not one of “them” I could not disguise from myself that the same sort of condemnation135 might apply to me. John evidently saw my thoughts, for he grinned, and moreover indulged in an entirely vulgar wink136. Then he said, “Strikes home, old thing, doesn’t it? Never mind, you’re not in the web. You’re an outsider. Fate has kept you safely fluttering in the backward North.”
Some weeks after this conversation John’s mood seemed to change. Hitherto he had been light-hearted, sometimes even ribald, both in the actual pursuit of his investigation137 and in his comments. In his more serious phases he displayed the sympathetic though aloof interest of an anthropologist138 observing the customs of a primitive tribe. He had always been ready to talk about his experiences and to defend his judgements. But now he began to be much less communicative, and, when he did condescend139 to talk, much more terse140 and grim. Banter141 and friendly contemptuousness vanished. In their place he developed a devastating habit of coldly, wearily pulling to pieces whatever one said to him. Finally this reaction also vanished, and his only response to any remark of general interest was a steady gloomy stare. So might a lonely man gaze at his frisking dog when the need of human intercourse142 was beginning to fret143 him. Had any one other than John treated one in that way, the act would have been offensive. Coming from John it was merely disturbing. It roused in me a painful self-consciousness, and an irresistible144 tendency to look away and busy myself with something.
Once only did John express himself freely. By appointment I had met him in his subterranean145 workshop to discuss a financial project which I proposed to undertake. He was lying in his little bunk146, swinging one leg over the side. Both hands were behind his head. I embarked147 on my theme, but his attention was obviously elsewhere. “Damn it, can’t you listen?” I said. “Are you inventing a gadget148 or what?”
“Not inventing,” he replied, “discovering.”
There was such solemnity in his voice that a wave of irrational73 panic seized me. “Oh, for God’s sake do be explicit. What’s up with you these days? Can’t you tell a fellow?” He transferred his gaze from the ceiling to my face. He stared. I started to fill my pipe.
“Yes, I’ll tell you,” he said, “if I can, or as much as I can. Some time ago I asked myself a question, namely this. Is the plight of the world today a mere incident, an illness that might have been avoided and may be cured? Or is it something inherent in the very nature of your species? Well, I have got my answer. Homo sapiens is a spider trying to crawl out of a basin. The higher he crawls, the steeper the hill. Sooner or later, down he goes. So long as he’s on the bottom, he can get along quite nicely, but as soon as he starts climbing, he begins to slip. And the higher he climbs the farther he falls. It doesn’t matter which direction he tries. He can make civilization after civilization, but every time, long before he begins to be really civilized150, skid151!”
I protested against John’s assurance. “It may be so,” I said, “but how can you possibly know? Hom. sap. is an inventive animal. Might not the spider some time or other contrive152 to make his feet sticky? Or — well, suppose he’s not a spider at all but a beetle153. Beetles154 have wings. They often forget how to use them, but — aren’t there signs that Hom. sap’s present climb is different from all the others? Mechanical power is a stickiness for his feet. And I believe his wing-cases are stirring, too.”
John regarded me in silence. Pulling himself together, he said, as if from a great distance, “No wings. No wings.” Then, in a more normal voice, “And as for mechanical power, if he knew how to use it, it might help him up a few steps farther, but he doesn’t. You see, for every type of creature there’s a limit of possible development of capacity, a limit inherent in the ground plan of its organization. Homo sapiens reached his limit a million years ago, but he has only recently begun to use his powers dangerously. In achieving science and mechanism he has brought about a state of affairs which cannot be dealt with properly save by capacity which is much more developed than his. Of course, he may not slip just yet. He may succeed in muddling155 through this particular crisis of history. But if he does, it will only be muddling through to stagnation156, not to the soaring that even he in his own heart is desperately157 craving. Mechanical power, you see, is indeed vitally necessary to the full development of the human spirit; but to the sub-human spirit it is lethal158.”
“But, how can you know that? Aren’t you being a bit too confident in your own judgement?”
John’s lips compressed themselves and assumed a crooked159 smile. “You’re right,” he said. “There’s just one possibility that I have not mentioned. If the species as a whole, or a large proportion of the world population, were to be divinely inspired, so that their nature became truly human at a stride, all would soon be well.”
I took this for irony160, but he went on to say, “Oh, no, I’m quite serious. It’s possible; if you interpret ‘divinely inspired’ to mean lifted out of their pettiness by a sudden and spontaneous access of strength to their own rudimentary spiritual nature. It happens again and again in individuals here and there. When Christianity came, it happened to large numbers. But they were a very small proportion of the whole, and the thing petered out. Short of that kind of thing, or rather something much more widespread and much more powerful than the Christian miracle, there’s no hope. The early Christians, you see, and the early Buddhists161 and so on, remained at bottom what I should call sub-human, in spite of their miracle. In intelligence they remained what they were before the miracle; and in will, though they were profoundly changed by the new thing in them, the change was insecure. Or rather the new thing seldom managed to integrate their whole being into a new and harmonious162 order. Its rule was precarious163. The new psychological compound, so to speak, was a terribly unstable164 compound. Or, putting it in another way, they managed to become saints, but seldom angels. The sub-human and the human were always in violent conflict in them. And so they mostly got obsessed165 with the idea of sin, and saving their souls, instead of being able to pass on to live the new life with fluency166 and joy, and with creative effect in the world.”
At this point we fell silent. I relit my pipe, and John remarked, “Match number nine, you funny old thing!” It was true. There lay the eight burnt matches, though I had no recollection of using them. John from his position on the bed could not see the ash-tray. He must have noticed the actual re-lightings. It was simply that he observed whatever happened however engrossed167 he might be. “You funnier young thing!” I retorted.
Presently he began talking again. He kept his eye on me, but I felt that he was talking rather to himself than to me. “At one time,” he said, “I thought I should simply take charge of the world and help Homo sapiens to remake himself on a more human plan. But now I realize that only what men call ‘God’ could do that. Unless perhaps a great invasion of superior beings from another planet, or another dimension, could do it. But I doubt if they would trouble to do it. They would probably merely use the Terrestrials as cattle or museum pieces or pets, or just vermin. All the same, if they wanted to make a better job of Hom. sap. I expect they could. But I can’t do it. I believe, if I set my mind to it, I could fairly easily secure power and take charge of the normal species; and, once in charge, I could make a much more satisfactory world, and a much happier world; but always I should have to accept the ultimate limitations of capacity in the normal species. To make them try to live beyond their capacity would be like trying to civilize149 a pack of monkeys. There would be worse chaos168 than ever, and they would unite against me, and sooner or later destroy me. So I’d just have to accept the creature with all its limitations. And that would be to waste my best powers. I might as well spend my life chicken-farming.”
“You arrogant169 young cub170!” I protested. “I don’t believe we are as bad as you think.”
“Oh, don’t you! Of course not, you’re one of the pack,” he said. “Look here, now! I’ve spent some time and trouble poking171 about in Europe, and what do I find? In my simplicity172 I thought the fellows who had come to the top, the best minds, the leaders in every walk, would be something like real human beings, fundamentally sane173, rational, efficient, self-detached, loyal to the best in them. Actually they are nothing of the sort. Mostly they’re even below the average. Their position has underminded them. Think of old Z (naming a Cabinet minister). You’d be amazed if you could see him as I have seen him. He simply can’t experience anything clearly and correctly, except things that bear on his petty little self-esteem. Everything has to penetrate174 to him through a sort of eider-down of preconceived notions, clichés, diplomatic phrases. He has no more idea of the real issues in politics today than a mayfly has of the fish in the stream it’s fluttering on. He has, of course, the trick of using a lot of phrases that might mean very important things, but they don’t mean them to him. They are just counters for him, to be used in the game of politics. He’s simply not alive, to the real things. That’s what’s the matter with him. And take Y, the Press magnate. He’s just a nimble-witted little guttersnipe who has found out how to hoax175 the world into giving him money and power. Talk to him about the real things, and he just hasn’t a notion what you’re driving at. But it’s not only that sort that terrify me with their combination of power and inanity176. Take the real leaders, take young X, whose revolutionary ideas are going to have a huge effect on social thought. He’s got a brain, and he’s using it on the right side, and he has nerve, too. But — well, I’ve seen enough of him to spot his real motive, hidden from himself, of course. He had a thin time long ago, and now he wants to get his own back, he wants to make the oppressor frightened of him. He wants to use the have-nots to break the haves, for his own satisfaction. Well, let him get his own back, and good luck to him. But fancy taking that as your life’s goal, even unconsciously! It has made him do damned good work, but it has crippled him, too, poor devil. Or take that philosopher bloke, W, who did so much toward showing up the old school with their simple trust in words. He’s really in much the same fix as X. I know him pretty well, the perky old bird. And knowing him I can see the mainspring of all that brilliant work quite clearly, namely, the idea of himself as bowing to no man and no god, as purged177 of prejudice and sentimentality, as faithful to reason yet not blindly trustful of it. All that is admirable. But it obsesses178 him, and actually warps179 his reasoning. You can’t be a real philosopher if you have an obsession180. On the other hand, take V. He knows all about electrons and all about galaxies181, and he’s first class at his job. Further, he has glimmers182 of spiritual experience. Well, what’s the mechanism this time? He’s a kind creature, very sympathetic. And he likes to think that the universe is all right from the human point of view. Hence all his explorations and speculations183. Well, so long as he sticks to science he is sound enough. But his spiritual experience tells him science is all very superficial. Right, again; but his is not very deep spiritual experience, and it gets all mixed up with kindliness184, and he tells us things about the universe that are sheer inventions of his kindliness.”
John paused. Then with a sigh he resumed. “It’s no good going on about it. The upshot is simple enough. Homo sapiens is at the end of his tether, and I’m not going to spend my life tinkering a doomed185 species.”
“You’re mighty186 sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I put in. “Yes,” he said, “perfectly sure of myself in some ways, and still utterly187 unsure in others, in ways I can’t explain. But one thing is stark188 clear. If I were to take over Hom. sap. I should freeze up inside, and grow quite incapable189 of doing what is my real job. That job is what I’m not yet sure about, and can’t possibly explain. But it begins with something very interior to me. Of course, it’s not just saving my soul. I, as an individual, might damn myself without spoiling the world. Indeed, my damning myself might happen to be an added beauty to the world. I don’t matter on my own account, but I have it in me to do something that does matter. This I know. And I’m pretty sure I have to begin with — well, interior discovery of objective reality, in preparation for objective creation. Can you make anything of that?”
“Not much,” I said, “but go on.”
“No,” he said, “I won’t go on along that line, but I’ll tell you something else. I’ve had the hell of a fright lately. And I’m not easily frightened. This was only the second time, ever. I went to the Cup Tie Final last week to see the crowd. You remember, it was a close fight (and a damned good game from beginning to end) and three minutes before time there was trouble over a foul190. The ball went into goal before the referee’s whistle had got going for the foul, and that goal would have won the match. Well, the crowd got all het up about it, as you probably heard. That’s what frightened me. I don’t mean I was scared of being hurt in a row. No, I should have quite enjoyed a bit of a row, if I’d known which side to be on, and there’d been something to fight about. But there wasn’t. It clearly was a foul. Their precious, ‘sporting instinct’ ought to have kept them straight, but it didn’t. They just lost their heads, went brute-mad over it. What got me was the sudden sense of being different from every one else, of being a human being alone in a vast herd191 of cattle. Here was a fair sample of the world’s population, of the sixteen hundred millions of Homo sapiens. And this fair sample was expressing itself in a thoroughly characteristic way, an inarticulate bellowing192 and braying193, and here was I, a raw, ignorant, blundering little creature, but human, really human, perhaps the only real human being in the world; and just because I was really human, and had in me the possibility of some new and transcendent spiritual achievement, I was more important than all the rest of the sixteen hundred million put together. That was a terrifying thought in itself. What made matters worse was the bellowing crowd. Not that I was afraid of them, but of the thing they were a sample of. Not that I was afraid as a private individual, so to speak. The thought was very exhilarating from that point of view. If they had turned on me, I’d have made a damned good fight for it. What terrified me was the thought of the immense responsibility, and the immense odds194 against my fulfilling it.”
John fell silent; and I was so stunned195 by his prodigious196 self-importance that I had nothing to say. Presently he began again.
“Of course I know, Fido old thing, the whole business must seem fantastic to you. But, perhaps, by being a bit more precise on one point I may make the thing clearer. It’s already pretty common knowledge of course that another world-war is likely, and that if it does come it may very well be the end of civilization, But I know something that makes the whole situation look much worse than it’s generally thought to be. I don’t really know what will happen to the species in the long run, but I do know that unless a miracle happens there is bound to be a most ghastly mess in the short run for psychological reasons. I have looked pretty carefully into lots of minds, big and little, and it’s devastatingly197 clear to me that in big matters Homo sapiens is a species with very slight educable capacity. He has entirely failed to learn his lesson from the last war. He shows no more practical intelligence than a moth104 that has fluttered through a candle-flame once and will do so again as soon as it has recovered from the shock. And again and yet again, till its wings are burnt. Intellectually many people realize the danger. But they are not the sort to act on the awareness, It’s as though the moth knew that the flame meant death, yet simply couldn’t stop its wings from taking it there, Then what with this new crazy religion of nationalism that’s beginning, and the steady improvement in the technique of destruction, a huge disaster is simply inevitable198, barring a miracle, which of course may happen. There might be some sort of sudden leap forward to a more human mentality130, and therefore a world-wide social and religious revolution. But apart from that possibility I should give the disease fifteen to twenty years to come to a head. Then one fine day a few great powers will attack one another, and — phut! Civilization will have gone in a few weeks, Now, of course, if I took charge I could probably stave off the smash. But, as I say, it would mean chucking the really vital thing I can do. Chicken-farming is not worth such a sacrifice. The upshot is, Fido, I’m through with your bloody awful species. I must strike out on my own, and, if possible, in such a way as to avoid being smashed in the coming disaster.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
psychiatrist
|
|
| n.精神病专家；精神病医师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
grouse
|
|
| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
quack
|
|
| n.庸医；江湖医生；冒充内行的人；骗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
straightforward
|
|
| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
primitive
|
|
| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
habitually
|
|
| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
snug
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
ostrich
|
|
| n.鸵鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
atrophied
|
|
| adj.萎缩的，衰退的v.（使）萎缩，（使）虚脱，（使）衰退( atrophy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
coma
|
|
| n.昏迷，昏迷状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
permanently
|
|
| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sleight
|
|
| n.技巧，花招 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
vet
|
|
| n.兽医，退役军人；vt.检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
psychiatry
|
|
| n.精神病学，精神病疗法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
doctrines
|
|
| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
chapels
|
|
| n.小教堂， （医院、监狱等的）附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 )；（在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的）礼拜仪式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
outlet
|
|
| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
exasperation
|
|
| n.愤慨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
infancy
|
|
| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
blasphemy
|
|
| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
armistice
|
|
| n.休战，停战协定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
blotted
|
|
| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
susceptible
|
|
| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
hawklike
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
40
choir
|
|
| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
flicker
|
|
| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
relishing
|
|
| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
tripe
|
|
| n.废话，肚子, 内脏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
askew
|
|
| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
devastating
|
|
| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
muddle
|
|
| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
explicit
|
|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
cove
|
|
| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
knaves
|
|
| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
emancipate
|
|
| v.解放，解除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
materialism
|
|
| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
quaintly
|
|
| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
slaughter
|
|
| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
awareness
|
|
| n.意识，觉悟，懂事，明智 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
queried
|
|
| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
snugs
|
|
| n.整洁的( snug的名词复数 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的v.整洁的( snug的第三人称单数 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
65
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
squat
|
|
| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
posture
|
|
| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
spout
|
|
| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
subconsciously
|
|
| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
scapegoat
|
|
| n.替罪的羔羊，替人顶罪者；v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
irrational
|
|
| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
irrationally
|
|
| ad.不理性地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
disorder
|
|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
zestfully
|
|
| adv.有辛辣味的； 有风趣的； 有风味的； 有滋味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
standardization
|
|
| n.标准化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
capitalism
|
|
| n.资本主义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
crook
|
|
| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
axe
|
|
| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
itch
|
|
| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
fumbling
|
|
| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
bowels
|
|
| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
mechanism
|
|
| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
sanity
|
|
| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
tirade
|
|
| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
outgrown
|
|
| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
tribal
|
|
| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
umpteenth
|
|
| adj.第无数次（个）的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
orientate
|
|
| v.给…定位；使适应 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
lizards
|
|
| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
swarmed
|
|
| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
moth
|
|
| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
ratiocination
|
|
| n.推理；推断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
discriminating
|
|
| a.有辨别能力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
aesthetic
|
|
| adj.美学的，审美的，有美感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
spiciness
|
|
| n.香馥，富于香料；香味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
wretches
|
|
| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
precocious
|
|
| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
retail
|
|
| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
plight
|
|
| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
mesh
|
|
| n.网孔，网丝，陷阱；vt.以网捕捉，啮合，匹配；vi.适合； [计算机]网络 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
blatant
|
|
| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
discriminate
|
|
| v.区别，辨别，区分；有区别地对待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
innate
|
|
| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
brilliance
|
|
| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
originality
|
|
| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
perversity
|
|
| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
crudity
|
|
| n.粗糙，生硬；adj.粗略的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
mentality
|
|
| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
jading
|
|
| v.（使）疲（jade的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
132
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
drenching
|
|
| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
condemnation
|
|
| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
investigation
|
|
| n.调查，调查研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
anthropologist
|
|
| n.人类学家，人类学者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
condescend
|
|
| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
terse
|
|
| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
banter
|
|
| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
fret
|
|
| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
subterranean
|
|
| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
bunk
|
|
| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
embarked
|
|
| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
gadget
|
|
| n.小巧的机械，精巧的装置，小玩意儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
civilize
|
|
| vt.使文明，使开化 (=civilise) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
skid
|
|
| v.打滑 n.滑向一侧；滑道 ，滑轨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
beetle
|
|
| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
beetles
|
|
| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
muddling
|
|
| v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的现在分词 )；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
stagnation
|
|
| n. 停滞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
lethal
|
|
| adj.致死的；毁灭性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
Buddhists
|
|
| n.佛教徒( Buddhist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
harmonious
|
|
| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
precarious
|
|
| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
unstable
|
|
| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
fluency
|
|
| n.流畅，雄辩，善辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
engrossed
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
arrogant
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
cub
|
|
| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
poking
|
|
| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
hoax
|
|
| v.欺骗，哄骗，愚弄；n.愚弄人，恶作剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
inanity
|
|
| n.无意义，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
purged
|
|
| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
obsesses
|
|
| v.时刻困扰( obsess的第三人称单数 )；缠住；使痴迷；使迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
warps
|
|
| n.弯曲( warp的名词复数 )；歪斜；经线；经纱v.弄弯，变歪( warp的第三人称单数 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
obsession
|
|
| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
galaxies
|
|
| 星系( galaxy的名词复数 )； 银河系； 一群（杰出或著名的人物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
glimmers
|
|
| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
speculations
|
|
| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
kindliness
|
|
| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
stark
|
|
| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
herd
|
|
| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
bellowing
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
braying
|
|
| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的现在分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
devastatingly
|
|
| adv. 破坏性地，毁灭性地，极其 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |