I was harshly undeceived on one point though. In using it I found out how second-rate the English article was. It answered the purpose all right as long as I kept still, but light as it seemed it was necessary to exert my hip3 to work it, which made me walk with a kind of unsightly swing and very quickly tired me.
I got into the habit of going out during the best hours of the day while the fine weather lasted. Once outside, I walked slowly, putting on the air of a loiterer. As uninitiated passers-by might well think I was merely slightly lame4, I now had to be doubly vigilant5 about avoiding the least contact with the crowd. Alas6! I was very unsteady; twice I nearly fell when someone bumped into me, and people did not apologise; the mufti I had taken to again seemed to rob me of the right to any consideration.
Who would believe that I almost got as far as to regret the wooden stump7? My last hopes were fixed8 on the American firm. I congratulated myself upon not having cancelled my order. A fellow-sufferer had just been introduced to me, who had been supplied[Pg 510] with a leg by them, and I marvelled9 at his young and supple10 carriage.
Why did I make a point of telling Jeannine of my disillusionment? Perhaps in order to get the answer, "What are you worrying about?" With ambitious coquetry I boasted in advance of the wonders expected from the other firm.
The reply was delayed for six days, and when it came was only four pages. The Landrys were putting the finishing touch to their preparations. There was not a single allusion11 to my infirmity, which I had told her was well on the way to being cured. No doubt she had made a rule never to broach12 the subject. Having once and for all given me proof of her tender pity she wished thenceforward to spare me the humiliation13 of feeling that she even thought of it.
Some days slipped by. I had written to her again in an affectionate tone. Though tempted14 to give her to understand that it would be less painful to show myself to her in a fortnight's time, I refrained from making such a mistake. That was a secondary matter. Only let her come! let her come! Oh, my love!
At this point, there was a long silence on her part. Must it be put down to the postal15 service again? No, we received our other letters from Paris quite regularly.
At the end of ten days I wrote her a line, saying that I was anxious. No answer—what could I make of it? I was seized with apprehension16. Was she ill perhaps? But I should have been told about it. Had some accident happened to her? That was more likely. If so, what was it? My thoughts wandered, incapable18 of fixing themselves.
Then, one morning, just as I got out of bed, the waiter brought me a card. What power there is in[Pg 511] presentiments19! As I took it from him I distinctly saw another, the one I had got from Jeannine at F—— the day before we started. I immediately thought—why, I wonder? that was the first, and this—this, the last!
It was not the Paris postmark. I undid21 it slowly, pretending—on whose account?—to be unmoved. One page, no more. It was headed Juan-les-Pins, December 17, 1914. Jeannine expressed her regret at the fact that they had been prevented from making the detour22 they intended, because the time-tables fitted in so awkwardly. Her grandmother was not very well, as a result of a great deal of worry, and found the journey long enough without adding to it. They had arrived the day before yesterday on the Riviera, which was not justifying23 its reputation, since the sun was absent. It lacked joyousness24 above everything. She added that she could not tear her thoughts away from the cold Northern regions, where so much youth, and all the promise of the future was succumbing26. She ended by expressing the hope that we should see each other again some day. There was no allusion to our travelling plans, which I had mentioned to her several times.
I stood still, thunder-struck. I mechanically began to read over the lines again. The letters were dancing. I searched for an unexpected meaning in them. I refused to admit.... But the conviction was secretly gaining ground in my mind.
When I got to the signature again, there was not an unsteady stroke. The evolution was complete; I was ripe at last to understand. It was the emanation of a distant, a prodigiously27 distant being. How could I ever have thought—? My simplicity28 amazed me. Here, endless overwhelming forebodings occurred to my[Pg 512] mind. The imperceptibly, but totally changed tone of her letters; the note of friendship substituted for that of love; never a word in reference to my misfortune; the grandmother always refraining from adding a personal message, the long-delayed opportunity of seeing me again. Lastly, the brutal29 decision: these four sentences of dismissal.
I leant on the window looking over the hotel garden from the second floor. A bare lawn, and leafless trees. A cold and dreary30 wind was blowing, this winter morning. I pictured her, too, at her window opening on to the sea. My thoughts sought her thoughts. Yes, I wanted her to feel me moved by her cold, heart-breaking epistle at that moment. Ah, and if she could have read my heart, she would have seen that it held for her nothing but a desperate, resigned devotion.
Move her to pity? A dead ambition. Demand an explanation? What was the good? I saw it quite clearly. Curse her, blaspheme against her? How far that was from my thoughts. I did not accuse her of treachery. It seemed to me certain that at the time of the uplifting struggle she had dreamt of me as her bridegroom of to-morrow. But since I had been damaged. My God! What could I have reproached her with?
Had I still supposed myself worthy31 to inspire contentment in a youthful creature, inexperienced and perfect? When no engagement bound us! For on what foundations had I built? On nothing more than an odd avowal32 or two hidden here and there between the lines. Sand scattered33 by the wind! I might read over her letters, those written during the last few months and even those at the beginning. When once my own ardour had abated34 I should not find in[Pg 513] them either oath or promise; there was nothing there, nothing had ever been expressed but a sisterly affection.
It occurred to my mind that more than one girl of former days, brought up in the pious35 ideas of devotion and self-sacrifice, would have felt herself especially bound to proclaim as her fiancé the man who had suffered at the hands of Fate—inspirations to be respected, but, I admitted, out of date. This generation, less sensible—I have already said Jeannine was not the least—to the impress of religion, showed more common sense. It was permissible36 for a child of our century, however generous she might be, to trust to time to cure all heartaches, in others and in herself, to aspire37 to a happiness other than sacrifice.
Jeannine might have suffered, might be suffering still. Yes, she must regret that what was not, might not be. It was possible that she might carry away a picture of me which would illuminate38 a chaste39 corner of her memory: an idol40 that she had not been able to bring herself to destroy by seeing me again. It was Reason. I bowed to the sovereign I always recognised. Does one not usually end by repenting41 of a sacrifice? I glanced into the glass—I have said that I was not dressed: ugliness, a lack of harmony, weakness. If I had given her my arm, she would have been the one to support me. What shame, what remorse42 even, there would have been for me, in paralysing this creature, so vividly43 alive, in eternally hearing her pitied, she who was born to be envied.
I dressed with my mind a blank. I abstained44, when I was ready, from knocking at the door of the room next to mine, where my father slept. I was afraid of letting him see the distracted look on my face.
I went downstairs and out of doors. Where should[Pg 514] I go to? I avoided the frequented streets, and the park where I liked to sit. It was a long round. How my leg weighed on me. But I forced myself to walk quickly, as long as I continued to meet any one. When I got beyond the suburbs some power or other abruptly45 ceased to support me. Faint, and at the end of my strength, I was only just able to reach a heap of stones, upon which I sank down.
There was a nip in the air. The sun, like a dull ball, appeared behind a livid curtain of cloud.
What a feeling of irremediable collapse46! All my strength, physical and moral, was annulled47. My despair alone lived on in the depths of my frozen heart. For a long while I experienced a secret, harrowing joy in imagining the future, such as it might have been. My sorrow was exasperated48 by turning over such visions in my mind, and reached a state of paroxysm. I could not bear it. I got up, picked up my stick, and went on along the road.
Not far away, beyond some fields, a line of poplars made me guess where the Allier lay. I was drawn49 on by a fatal longing50 to reach the bank of the river. Poor soul, born but to disappear!
Swollen51 by the autumn rains, the river filled its huge bed to the brink52. It was a glaucous, sinister53 stretch of water. Eddying54 foam55 was swept along on a strong current.
I was tempted. I approached the bank. It fell away in a steep slope towards the stream which swished along it with a monotonous56 gurgle. I planted my stick at the extreme edge among the fragments of slate57. I leant over—it was horribly alluring—and I granted myself a certain delay.
What a stirring moment that was while my fate[Pg 515] hung in the balance. I had come to the end of my tether. What had brought me there? Was it not the paltry58 idea of bringing remorse to birth in Jeannine's heart? But what would she know of my wretched fate? And why revenge myself so basely? I scrupled59 to annihilate60 the vestige61 of strength which I constituted. Lastly, there was the disdain62 for an act of romantic impotence.
And then, what pulled me up short was the thought of the old man, who must have heard me go out, who was alarmed no doubt already, whose life hung upon my return. Then I sat down. Ceasing to hypnotise myself by gazing at the torrent63 eating away the bank at my feet, my eyes strayed to the horizon. By a stretch of the imagination it seemed to me that I dominated the field where my individual happiness had been shattered.
The War! Had I not come—I remember the day before—to deify the word! Yes, it was a progressive spell. The War! While childishly attributing the rejuvenation64 of my soul to it, I had ended by seeing in it the fairy who was cruel to be kind. So many thinkers and poets had bowed down to this terrible goddess, before me.
My aberration65 fell to pieces. The War! The abominations which were really contained in this term rose up and quelled66 me.
Those villages, blazing like torches. The Meuse rolling by with its purple slime; the woods of Montrolles with their grasses stained with mottled patches violet, the traces of our brothers massacred there. O death, sole enemy of man, sneering67 at the orgies of the sword! So many beings who moved and loved, struck off the rolls, so many lights put out! De Valpic,[Pg 516] the great-hearted, and Henriot and little Frémont; my excellent Bouillon, Prunelle, Icard; Descroix and Playoust, too, all or almost all, without discrimination—a crowd of friends and companions, now grimacing68 underground. And the anonymous69 multitude, those foul70 masses of corpses71 whose odour had pursued us all through our fighting from end to end. All that, oh! merely a prologue72! As if it was enough that a million young men should be sacrificed. To death, to death with their elders, the fellows from thirty to forty. The trench73 fighting instituted, which would last how long, O God! The sons of the hostile races, face to face in their burrows74, spitting murder and hatred75 at each other, tracing with their blood the baleful line of fire. Frenzy76 gaining the two fronts little by little, the zones of slaughter77 being displaced and stretched out, others being made. Where would the conflagration78 end? A craze for butchery sweeping79 through the world. Would there be an acre in Europe, to-morrow, which had not seen human remains80 decaying beneath the beaks81 of carrion82 crows, or which did not contain them in its depths, infecting the sources of their poisoned juices?
Ah! when the awakening83 came at last, and the diplomats84, old vultures, were collected round the council-board to talk, they might congratulate themselves as they audited85 the balance sheet. Broken up, ground and crushed, these two, three, four generations of men who might have been great, and collaborated86 in the common cause. So many wounded who would soon succumb25, wan17 wrecks87, and so many others who, like myself, would only drag out the shadow of an existence. And all the rest! The ravaged88 homes, the wives abandoned to the terrors of their widowhood,[Pg 517] the old parents dying with curses on their lips, the children delivered over without guidance to life's buffetings, the surplus girls especially, deprived of their natural associates, devoted89 to the sorrows of debauchery. With many of those who came back safely, the mind at least would be affected90, their faith in work sapped, their brutal instincts let loose, and their desire for immediate20 enjoyment91 aroused. The public wealth destroyed, want bringing revolt in its train, the emasculated nations incapable of recovering, or even of governing themselves. The snare92 of revolutions, of frightful93 social convulsions. What could one depend upon henceforth? There would be no law or rule of any sort. The religions, Art, Science, all these would be humiliated94 before Force. The Ideal broken and trampled95 underfoot. An infected breath tainting96 the sacred legacies97 of the past. The genius of destruction hovering98 over a civilisation99 in ruins. That was what War meant!
A monstrous100 survival of primitive101 errors. How I abhorred103 them all of a sudden, the politics and morals which revere104 this scourge105 of God.
As to war raising the hearts of individuals and nations, alas, who could answer for it? For one soul purified, how many others would be vilified106! And, above all, how terrible was the remedy, a thousand times worse than the complaint.
War might be necessary, and it was in this case, for the defence of our native land. Then it might give birth to the most noble effervescence. Then in its radiance virtues107 might thrive like plants beneath a tropical sun. But it remained no less the supreme108 calamity109; the triumph of the powers of Death.
Care must be taken not to magnify it, not to flatter[Pg 518] the fluctuating mind of the nations with bellicose110 dreams. We must needs greet a like catastrophe111 with a fiercely hostile heart, abhor102 it, blaspheme against it, we miserable112 creatures, who had but one life to live, one brief chance of being happy.
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收听单词发音
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1
retrospect
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| n.回顾，追溯；v.回顾，回想，追溯 | |
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overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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broach
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| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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presentiments
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| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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justifying
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| 证明…有理( justify的现在分词 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
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joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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succumbing
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的现在分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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prodigiously
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| adv.异常地，惊人地，巨大地 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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permissible
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| adj.可允许的，许可的 | |
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aspire
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| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
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illuminate
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| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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repenting
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的现在分词 ) | |
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42
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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43
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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44
abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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45
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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46
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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47
annulled
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| v.宣告无效( annul的过去式和过去分词 )；取消；使消失；抹去 | |
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48
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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49
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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50
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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51
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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52
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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53
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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54
eddying
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| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
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55
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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56
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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57
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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58
paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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59
scrupled
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| v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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vestige
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| n.痕迹，遗迹，残余 | |
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62
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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63
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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64
rejuvenation
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| n. 复原，再生, 更新, 嫩化, 恢复 | |
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aberration
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| n.离开正路，脱离常规，色差 | |
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66
quelled
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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68
grimacing
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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69
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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70
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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71
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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72
prologue
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| n.开场白，序言；开端，序幕 | |
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73
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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74
burrows
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| n.地洞( burrow的名词复数 )v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的第三人称单数 )；翻寻 | |
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75
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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76
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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79
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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80
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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81
beaks
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| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
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82
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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83
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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84
diplomats
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| n.外交官( diplomat的名词复数 )；有手腕的人，善于交际的人 | |
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audited
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| v.审计，查账( audit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
collaborated
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| 合作( collaborate的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾结叛国 | |
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wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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88
ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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89
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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91
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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92
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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tainting
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| v.使变质( taint的现在分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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97
legacies
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| n.遗产( legacy的名词复数 )；遗留之物；遗留问题；后遗症 | |
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98
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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100
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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101
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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102
abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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103
abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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104
revere
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| vt.尊崇，崇敬，敬畏 | |
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105
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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106
vilified
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| v.中伤，诽谤( vilify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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108
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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109
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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110
bellicose
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| adj.好战的；好争吵的 | |
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111
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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112
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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