第1章

类别:其他 作者:H。 G。 Wells字数:5291更新时间:18/12/22 09:14:23
Mostpeopleinthisworldseemtolive“incharacter“;theyhaveabeginning,amiddleandanend,andthethreearecongruousonewithanotherandtruetotherulesoftheirtype。Youcanspeakofthemasbeingofthissortofpeopleorthat。Theyare,astheatricalpeoplesay,nomore(andnoless)than“characteractors。”Theyhaveaclass,theyhaveaplace,theyknowwhatisbecominginthemandwhatisduetothem,andtheirpropersizeoftombstonetellsatlasthowproperlytheyhaveplayedthepart。Butthereisalsoanotherkindoflifethatisnotsomuchlivingasamiscellaneoustastingoflife。Onegetshitbysomeunusualtransverseforce,oneisjerkedoutofone’sstratumandlivescrosswisefortherestofthetime,and,asitwere,inasuccessionofsamples。Thathasbeenmylot,andthatiswhathassetmeatlastwritingsomethinginthenatureofanovel。I havegotanunusualseriesofimpressionsthatIwantveryurgentlytotell。Ihaveseenlifeatverydifferentlevels,andatalltheselevelsIhaveseenitwithasortofintimacyandingoodfaith。Ihavebeenanativeinmanysocialcountries。I havebeentheunwelcomeguestofaworkingbaker,mycousin,whohassincediedintheChathaminfirmary;Ihaveeatenillegalsnacks——theunjustifiablegiftsoffootmen——inpantries,andbeendespisedformywantofstyle(andsubsequentlymarriedanddivorced)bythedaughterofagasworksclerk;and——togotomyotherextreme——Iwasonce——oh,glitteringdays!——aniteminthehouse-partyofacountess。Shewas,Iadmit,acountesswithafinancialaspect,butstill,youknow,acountess。I’veseenthesepeopleatvariousangles。Atthedinner-tableI’vemetnotsimplythetitledbutthegreat。Ononeoccasion——itismybrightestmemory——Iupsetmychampagneoverthetrousersofthegreateststatesmanintheempire——HeavenforbidIshouldbesoinvidiousastonamehim!——inthewarmthofourmutualadmiration。 Andonce(thoughitisthemostincidentalthinginmylife)I murderedaman。 Yes,I’veseenacuriousvarietyofpeopleandwaysoflivingaltogether。Oddpeopletheyallaregreatandsmall,verymuchalikeatbottomandcuriouslydifferentontheirsurfaces。I wishIhadrangedjustalittlefurtherbothupanddown,seeingIhaverangedsofar。Royaltymustbeworthknowingandverygreatfun。Butmycontactswithprinceshavebeenlimitedtoquitepublicoccasions,norattheotherendofthescalehaveI hadwhatIshouldcallaninsideacquaintancewiththatdustybutattractiveclassofpeoplewhogoaboutonthehigh-roadsdrunkbutenfamille(soredeemingtheminorlapse),inthesummertime,withaperambulator,lavendertosell,sun-brownchildren,asmell,andambiguousbundlesthatfiretheimagination。Navvies,farm-labourers,sailormenandstokers,allsuchassitin1834 beer-houses,arebeyondmealso,andIsupposemustremainsonowforever。Myintercoursewiththeducalranktoohasbeennegligible;Ioncewentshootingwithaduke,andinanoutburstofwhatwasnodoubtsnobbishness,didmybesttogethiminthelegs。Butthatfailed。 I’msorryIhaven’tdonethewholelotthough。 YouwillaskbywhatmeritIachievedthisremarkablesocialrange,thisextensivecross-sectionoftheBritishsocialorganism。ItwastheAccidentofBirth。ItalwaysisinEngland。 Indeed,ifImaymaketheremarksocosmic,everythingis。Butthatisbytheway。Iwasmyuncle’snephew,andmyunclewasnolessapersonthanEdwardPonderevo,whosecomet-liketransitofthefinancialheavenshappened——itisnowtenyearsago!DoyourememberthedaysofPonderevo,thegreatdays,Imean,ofPonderevo?Perhapsyouhadatrifleinsomeworld-shakingenterprise!Thenyouknowhimonlytoowell。AstraddleonTono-Bungay,heflashedathwarttheemptyheavens——likeacomet——rather,likeastupendousrocket!——andoverawedinvestorsspokeofhisstar。Athiszenithheburstintoacloudofthemostmagnificentpromotions。Whatatimethatwas!TheNapoleonofdomesticconveniences! Iwashisnephew,hispeculiarandintimatenephew。Iwashangingontohiscoat-tailsallthewaythrough。Imadepillswithhiminthechemist’sshopatWimblehurstbeforehebegan。Iwas,youmightsay,thestickofhisrocket;andafterourtremendoussoar,afterhehadplayedwithmillions,agoldenraininthesky,aftermybird’s-eyeviewofthemodernworld,Ifellagain,alittlescarredandblisteredperhaps,twoandtwentyyearsolder,withmyyouthgone,mymanhoodeateninupon,butgreatlyedified,intothisThames-sideyard,intothesewhiteheatsandhammerings,amidstthefinerealitesofsteel——tothinkitalloverinmyleisureandjotdownthenotesandinconsecutiveobservationsthatmakethisbook。Itwasmore,youknow,thanafigurativesoar。ThezenithofthatcareerwassurelyourflightacrossthechannelintheLordRobertsB。 Iwarnyouthisbookisgoingtobesomethingofanagglomeration。Iwanttotracemysocialtrajectory(andmyuncle’s)asthemainlineofmystory,butasthisismyfirstnovelandalmostcertainlymylast,Iwanttogetin,too,allsortsofthingsthatstruckme,thingsthatamusedmeandimpressionsIgot——evenalthoughtheydon’tministerdirectlytomynarrativeatall。Iwanttosetoutmyownqueerloveexperiencestoo,suchastheyare,fortheytroubledanddistressedandswayedmehugely,andtheystillseemtometocontainallsortsofirrationalanddebatableelementsthatI shallbetheclearer-headedforgettingonpaper。AndpossiblyI mayevenflowintodescriptionsofpeoplewhoarereallynomorethanpeopleseenintransit,justbecauseitamusesmetorecallwhattheysaidanddidtous,andmoreparticularlyhowtheybehavedinthebriefbutsplendidglareofTono-Bungayanditsstillmoreglaringoffspring。Itlitsomeofthemup,Icanassureyou!Indeed,Iwanttogetinallsortsofthings。Myideasofanovelallthrougharecomprehensiveratherthanaustere。 Tono-Bungaystillfiguresonthehoardings,itstandsinrowsineverychemist’sstoreroom,itstillassuagesthecoughsofageandbrightenstheelderlyeyeandloosenstheelderlytongue;butitssocialglory,itsfinancialillumination,havefadedfromtheworldforever。AndI,solescorchedsurvivorfromtheblaze,sitwritingofithereinanairthatisneverstillfortheclangandthunderofmachines,onatablelitteredwithworkingdrawings,andamidfragmentsofmodelsandnotesaboutvelocitiesandairandwaterpressuresandtrajectories——ofanaltogetherdifferentsortfromthatofTono-Bungay。 Iwritethatmuchandlookatit,andwonderwhether,afterall,thisisanyfairstatementofwhatIamattemptinginthisbook。 I’vegiven,Isee,animpressionthatIwanttomakesimplyahotch-potchofanecdotesandexperienceswithmyuncleswimminginthemiddleasthelargestlumpofvictual。I’llownthathere,withthepenalreadystarted,IrealisewhatafermentingmassofthingslearntandemotionsexperiencedandtheoriesformedI’vegottodealwith,andhow,inasense,hopelessmybookmustbefromtheveryoutset。IsupposewhatI’mreallytryingtorenderisnothingmorenorlessthanLife——asonemanhasfoundit。Iwanttotell——MYSELF,andmyimpressionsofthethingasawhole,tosaythingsIhavecometofeelintenselyofthelaws,traditions,usages,andideaswecallsociety,andhowwepoorindividualsgetdrivenandluredandstrandedamongthesewindy,perplexingshoalsandchannels。I’vegot,Isuppose,toatimeoflifewhenthingsbegintotakeonshapesthathaveanairofreality,andbecomenolongermaterialfordreaming,butinterestinginthemselves。I’vereachedthecriticising,novel-writingage,andhereIamwritingmine——myonenovel——withouthavinganyofthedisciplinetorefrainandomitthatIsupposetheregularnovel-writeracquires。 I’vereadanaverageshareofnovelsandmadesomestartsbeforethisbeginning,andI’vefoundtherestraintsandrulesoftheart(asImadethemout)impossibleforme。Iliketowrite,I amkeenlyinterestedinwriting,butitisnotmytechnique。 I’manengineerwithapatentortwoandasetofideas;mostofwhateverartistthereisinmehasbeengiventoturbinemachinesandboatbuildingandtheproblemofflying,anddowhatIwillI failtoseehowIcanbeotherthanalax,undisciplinedstory-teller。Imustsprawlandflounder,commentandtheorise,ifIamtogetthethingoutIhaveinmind。Anditisn’taconstructedtaleIhavetotell,butunmanageablerealities。Mylove-story——andifonlyIcankeepupthespiritoftruth-tellingallthroughasstronglyasIhavenow,youshallhaveitall——fallsintonosortofneatschemeoftelling。Itinvolvesthreeseparatefemininepersons。It’sallmixedupwiththeotherthings。 ButI’vesaidenough,Ihope,toexcusemyselfforthemethodorwantofmethodinwhatfollows,andIthinkIhadbettertellwithoutfurtherdelayofmyboyhoodandmyearlyimpressionsintheshadowofBladesoverHouse。 TherecameatimewhenIrealisedthatBladesoverHousewasnotallitseemed,butwhenIwasalittleboyItooktheplacewiththeentirestfaithasacompleteauthenticmicrocosm。I believedthattheBladesoversystemwasalittleworking-model——andnotsoverylittleeither——ofthewholeworld。 Letmetryandgiveyoutheeffectofit。 BladesoverliesupontheKentishDowns,eightmilesperhapsfromAshborough;anditsoldpavilion,alittlewoodenparodyofthetempleofVestaatTibur,uponthehillcrestbehindthehouse,commandsintheoryatleastaviewofeithersea,oftheChannelsouthwardandtheThamestothenortheast。TheparkisthesecondlargestinKent,finelywoodedwithwell-placedbeeches,manyelmsandsomesweetchestnuts,aboundinginlittlevalleysandhollowsofbracken,withspringsandastreamandthreefinepondsandmultitudesoffallowdeer。Thehousewasbuiltintheeighteenthcentury,itisofpaleredbrickinthestyleofaFrenchchateau,andsaveforonepassamongthecrestswhichopenstobluedistances,tominute,remote,oast-setfarm-housesandcopsesandwheatfieldsandtheoccasionalgleamofwater,itshundredandseventeenwindowslookonnothingbutitsownwideandhandsometerritories。Asemi-circularscreenofgreatbeechesmasksthechurchandvillage,whichclusterpicturesquelyaboutthehighroadalongtheskirtsofthegreatpark。 Northward,attheremotestcornerofthatenclosure,isaseconddependentvillage,Ropedean,lessfortunateinitsgreaterdistanceandalsoonaccountofarector。Thisdivinewasindeedrich,buthewasvindictivelyeconomicalbecauseofsomeshrinkageofhistithes;andbyreasonofhisuseofthewordEucharistfortheLord’sSupperhehadbecomealtogetherestrangedfromthegreatladiesofBladesover。SothatRopedeanwasintheshadowsthroughallthatyouthfultime。 Nowtheunavoidablesuggestionofthatwideparkandthatfairlargehouse,dominatingchurch,villageandthecountryside,wasthattheyrepresentedthethingthatmatteredsupremelyintheworld,andthatallotherthingshadsignificanceonlyinrelationtothem。TheyrepresentedtheGentry,theQuality,byandthroughandforwhomtherestoftheworld,thefarmingfolkandthelabouringfolk,thetrades-peopleofAshborough,andtheupperservantsandthelowerservantsandtheservantsoftheestate,breathedandlivedandwerepermitted。AndtheQualitydiditsoquietlyandthoroughly,thegreathousemingledsosolidlyandeffectuallyearthandsky,thecontrastofitsspacioushallandsaloonandgalleries,itsairyhousekeeper’sroomandwarrenofofficeswiththemeagredignitiesofthevicar,andthepinchedandstuffyroomsofeventhepost-officepeopleandthegrocer,soenforcedthesesuggestions,thatitwasonlywhenIwasaboyofthirteenorfourteenandsomequeerinheritedstrainofscepticismhadsetmedoubtingwhetherMr。 Bartlett,thevicar,didreallyknowwithcertaintyallaboutGod,thatasafurtheranddeeperstepindoubtingIbegantoquestionthefinalrightnessofthegentlefolks,theirprimarynecessityintheschemeofthings。Butoncethatscepticismhadawakenedittookmefastandfar。ByfourteenIhadachievedterribleblasphemiesandsacrilege;Ihadresolvedtomarryaviscount’sdaughter,andIhadblackedthelefteye——Ithinkitwastheleft——ofherhalf-brother,inopenanddeclaredrebellion。 Butofthatinitsplace。