按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
people there。〃 It may be so。 For many years I believed it was so。
The general verdict received my assent。 I had never met those
delightful people； but was always expecting to meet them。 Hitherto
they had been conspicuous by their absence。 According to my
experience in Spain； France； and Germany； such dinners had been
dreary or noisy and vapid。 If the guests were English； they were
chillingly silent； or surlily monosyllabic： to their neighbors they
were frigid； amongst each other they spoke in low undertones。 And
if the guests were foreigners； they were noisy； clattering； and
chattering； foolish for the most part； and vivaciously commonplace。
I don't know which made me feel most dreary。 The predominance of
my countrymen gave the dinner the gayety of a funeral； the
predominance of the Mossoo gave it the fatigue of got…up
enthusiasm； of trivial expansiveness。 To hear strangers imparting
the scraps of erudition and connoisseurship which they had that
morning gathered from their valets de place and guide…books； or
describing the sights they had just seen； to you； who either saw
them yesterday； or would see them to…morrow； could not be
permanently attractive。 My mind refuses to pasture on such food
with gusto。 I cannot be made to care what the Herr Baron's
sentiments about Albert Durer or Lucas Cranach may be。 I can
digest my rindfleisch without the aid of the commis voyageur's
criticisms on Gothic architecture。 This may be my misfortune。 In
spite of the Italian blood which I inherit； I am a shy manshy as
the purest Briton。 But； like other shy men； I make up in obstinacy
what may be deficient in expansiveness。 I can be frightened into
silence； but I won't be dictated to。 You might as well attempt the
persuasive effect of your eloquence upon a snail who has withdrawn
into his shell at your approach； and will not emerge till his
confidence is restored。 To be told that I MUST see this； and ought
to go there； because my casual neighbor was charme； has never
presented itself to me as an adequate motive。
From this you readily gather that I am severely taciturn at a table
d'hote。 I refrain from joining in the 〃delightful conversation〃
which flies across the table； and know that my reticence is
attributed to 〃insular pride。〃 It is really and truly nothing but
impatience of commonplace。 I thoroughly enjoy good talk； but； ask
yourself； what are the probabilities of hearing that rare thing in
the casual assemblage of forty or fifty people； not brought
together by any natural affinities or interests； but thrown
together by the accident of being in the same district； and in the
same hotel？ They are not 〃forty feeding like one；〃 but like forty。
They have no community； except the community of commonplace。 No；
tables d'hote are not delightful； and do not gather interesting
people together。
Such has been my extensive experience。 But this at Nuremberg is a
conspicuous exception。 At that table there was one guest who； on
various grounds； personal and incidental； remains the most
memorable man I ever met。 From the first he riveted my attention
in an unusual degree。 He had not； as yet； induced me to emerge
from my habitual reserve； for in truth； although he riveted my
attention； he inspired me with a strange feeling of repulsion。 I
could scarcely keep my eyes from him； yet； except the formal bow on
sitting down and rising from the table； I had interchanged no sign
of fellowship with him。 He was a young Russian； named Bourgonef；
as I at once learned； rather handsome； and peculiarly arresting to
the eye； partly from an air of settled melancholy； especially in
his smile； the amiability of which seemed breaking from under
clouds of grief； and still more so from the mute appeal to sympathy
in the empty sleeve of his right arm； which was looped to the
breast…button of his coat。 His eyes were large and soft。 He had
no beard or whisker； and only delicate moustaches。 The sorrow；
quiet but profound； the amiable smile and the lost arm； were
appealing details which at once arrested attention and excited
sympathy。 But to me this sympathy was mingled with a vague
repulsion； occasioned by a certain falseness in the amiable smile；
and a furtiveness in the eyes； which I sawor fanciedand which；
with an inexplicable reserve； forming as it were the impregnable
citadel in the center of his outwardly polite and engaging manner；
gave me something of that vague impression which we express by the
words 〃instinctive antipathy。〃
It was； when calmly considered； eminently absurd。 To see one so
young； and by his conversation so highly cultured and intelligent；
condemned to early helplessness； his food cut up for him by a
servant； as if he were a child； naturally engaged pity； and； on the
first day； I cudgeled my brains during the greater part of dinner
in the effort to account for his lost arm。 He was obviously not a
military man； the unmistakable look and stoop of a student told
that plainly enough。 Nor was the loss one dating from early life：
he used his left arm too awkwardly for the event not to have had a
recent date。 Had it anything to do with his melancholy？ Here was
a topic for my vagabond imagination； and endless were the romances
woven by it during my silent dinner。 For the reader must be told
of one peculiarity in me； because to it much of the strange
complications of my story are due； complications into which a mind
less active in weaving imaginary hypotheses to interpret casual and
trifling facts would never have been drawn。 From my childhood I
have been the victim of my constructive imagination； which has led
me into many mistakes and some scrapes； because； instead of
contenting myself with plain； obvious evidence； I have allowed
myself to frame hypothetical interpretations； which； to acts simple
in themselves； and explicable on ordinary motives； render the
simple…seeming acts portentous。 With bitter pangs of self…reproach
I have at times discovered that a long and plausible history
constructed by me； relating to personal friends； has crumpled into
a ruin of absurdity； by the disclosure of the primary misconception
on which the whole history was based。 I have gone； let us say； on
the supposition that two people were secretly lovers； on this
supposition my imagination has constructed a whole scheme to
explain certain acts； and one fine day I have discovered
indubitably that the supposed lovers were not lovers； but
confidants of their passions in other directions； and； of course；
all my conjectures have been utterly false。 The secret flush of
shame at failure has not； however； prevented my falling into
similar mistakes immediately after。
When； therefore； I hereafter speak of my 〃constructive
imagination；〃 the reader will know to what I am alluding。 It was
already busy with Bourgonef。 To it must be added that vague
repulsion； previously mentioned。 This feeling abated on the second
day； but； although lessened； it remained powerful enough to prevent
my speaking to him。 Whether it would have continued to abate until
it disappeared； as such antipathies often disappear； under the
familiarities of prolonged intercourse； without any immediate
appeal to my amour propre； I know not； but every reflective mind；
conscious of being accessible to antipathies； will remember that
one certain method of stifling them is for the object to make some
appeal to our interest or our vanity： in the engagement of these
more powerful feelings； the antipathy is quickly strangled。 At any
rate it is so in my case； and was so now。
On the third day； the conversation at table happening to turn； as
it often turned； upon St。 Sebald's Church； a young Frenchman； who
was criticising its architecture with fluent dogmatism； drew
Bourgonef into the discussion； and thereby elicited such a display
of accurate and extensive knowledge； no less than delicacy of
appreciation； that we were all listening spellbound。 In the midst
of this triumphant exposition the irritated vanity of the Frenchman
could do nothing to regain his position but oppose a flat denial to
a historical statement made by Bourgonef； backing his denial by the
confident assertion that 〃all the competent authorities〃 held with
him。 At this point Bourgonef appealed to me； and in that tone of
deference so exquisitely flattering from one we already know to be
superior he requested my decision； observing that； from the manner
in which he had seen me examine the details of the architecture； he
could not be mistaken in his confidence that I was a connoisseur。
All eyes were turned upon me。 As a shy man； this made me blush； as
a vain man； the blush was accompanied with delight。 It might
easily have happened that such an appeal； acting at once upon
shyness and ignorance； would have inflamed my wrath； but the appeal
happening to be directed on a point which I had recently
investigated and thoroughly mastered； I was flattered at the
opportunity of a victorious display。
The pleasure of my triumph diffused itself over my feelings towards
him who had been the occasion of it。 The Frenchman was silenced；
the general verdict of the company was too obviously on our side。
From