the secret places of the heart- 第6部分

　other　people's　boats；　are　merely　the　stage　business　of　the　drama。　The　ruling　interests　of　this　place　are　love　largely　illicitand　persistent　drinking。　。　。　。　Don't　you　think　the　bridge　charming　from　here？〃　〃I　shouldn't　have　thoughtdrinking；〃　said　Dr。　Martineau；　after　he　had　done　justice　to　the　bridge　over　his　shoulder。　〃Yes；　the　place　has　a　floating　population　of　quiet　industrious　soakers。　The　incurable　river　man　and　the　river　girl　end　at　that。〃　Dr。　Martineau　encouraged　Sir　Richmond　by　an　appreciative　silence。　〃If　we　are　to　explore　the　secret　places　of　the　heart；〃　Sir　Richmond　went　on；　〃we　shall　have　to　give　some　attention　to　this　Maidenhead　side　of　life。　It　is　very　material　to　my　case。　I　have；as　I　have　saidBEEN　HERE。　This　place　has　beauty　and　charm；　these　piled…up　woods　behind　which　my　Lords　Astor　and　Desborough　keep　their　state；　this　shining　mirror　of　the　water；　brown　and　green　and　sky　blue；　this　fringe　of　reeds　and　scented　rushes　and　forget…me…not　and　lilies；　and　these　perpetually　posing　white　swans：　they　make　a　picture。　A　little　artificial　it　is　true；　one　feels　the　presence　of　a　Conservancy　Board；　planting　the　rushes　and　industriously　nicking　the　swans；　but　none　the　less　delightful。　And　this　setting　has　appealed　to　a　number　of　people　as　an　invitation；　as；　in　a　way；　a　promise。　They　come　here；　responsive　to　that　promise　of　beauty　and　happiness。　They　conceive　of　themselves　here；　rowing　swiftly　and　gracefully；　punting　beautifully；　brandishing　boat…hooks　with　ease　and　charm。　They　look　to　meet；　under　pleasant　or　romantic　circumstances；　other　possessors　and　worshippers　of　grace　and　beauty　here。　There　will　be　glowing　evenings；　warm　moonlight；　distant　voices　singing。　。　。　。There　is　your　desire；　doctor；　the　desire　you　say　is　the　driving　force　of　life。　But　reality　mocks　it。　Boats　bump　and　lead　to　coarse　ungracious　quarrels；　rowing　can　be　curiously　fatiguing；　punting　involves　dreadful　indignities。　The　romance　here　tarnishes　very　quickly。　Romantic　encounters　fail　to　occur；　in　our　impatience　we　resort　toaccosting。　Chilly　mists　arise　from　the　water　and　the　magic　of　distant　singing　is　provided；　even　excessively；　by　boatloads　of　cads　with　collecting　dishes。　When　the　weather　keeps　warm　there　presently　arises　an　extraordinary　multitude　of　gnats；　and　when　it　does　not　there　is　a　need　for　stimulants。　That　is　why　the　dreamers　who　come　here　first　for　a　light　delicious　brush　with　love；　come　down　at　last　to　the　Thamesside　barmaid　with　her　array　of　spirits　and　cordials　as　the　quintessence　of　all　desire。〃　〃I　say；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃You　tear　the　place　to　pieces。〃　〃The　desires　of　the　place；〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃I'm　using　the　place　as　a　symbol。〃　He　held　his　sculls　awash；　rippling　in　the　water。　〃The　real　force　of　life；　the　rage　of　life；　isn't　here；〃　he　said。　〃It's　down　underneath；　sulking　and　smouldering。　Every　now　and　then　it　strains　and　cracks　the　surface。　This　stretch　of　the　Thames；　this　pleasure　stretch；　has　in　fact　a　curiously　quarrelsome　atmosphere。　People　scold　and　insult　one　another　for　the　most　trivial　things；　for　passing　too　close；　for　taking　the　wrong　side；　for　tying　up　or　floating　loose。　Most　of　these　notice　boards　on　the　bank　show　a　thoroughly　nasty　spirit。　People　on　the　banks　jeer　at　anyone　in　the　boats。　You　hear　people　quarrelling　in　boats；　in　the　hotels；　as　they　walk　along　the　towing　path。　There　is　remarkably　little　happy　laughter　here。　The　RAGE；　you　see；　is　hostile　to　this　place；　the　RAGE　breaks　through。　。　。　。　The　people　who　drift　from　one　pub　to　another；　drinking；　the　people　who　fuddle　in　the　riverside　hotels；　are　the　last　fugitives　of　pleasure；　trying　to　forget　the　rage。　。　。　。〃　〃Isn't　it　that　there　is　some　greater　desire　at　the　back　of　the　human　mind？〃　the　doctor　suggested。　〃Which　refuses　to　be　content　with　pleasure　as　an　end？〃　〃What　greater　desire？〃　asked　Sir　Richmond；　disconcertingly。　〃Oh！　。　。　。　〃　The　doctor　cast　about。　〃There　is　no　such　greater　desire；〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃You　cannot　name　it。　It　is　just　blind　drive。　I　admit　its　discontent　with　pleasure　as　an　endbut　has　it　any　end　of　its　own？　At　the　most　you　can　say　that　the　rage　in　life　is　seeking　its　desire　and　hasn't　found　it。〃　〃Let　us　help　in　the　search；〃　said　the　doctor；　with　an　afternoon　smile　under　his　green　umbrella。　〃Go　on。〃　Section　2　〃Since　our　first　talk　in　Harley　Street；〃　said　Sir　Richmond；　〃I　have　been　trying　myself　over　in　my　mind。　（We　can　drift　down　this　backwater。）　〃　〃Big　these　trees　are；〃　said　the　doctor　with　infinite　approval。　〃I　am　astonished　to　discover　what　a　bundle　of　discordant　motives　I　am。　I　do　not　seem　to　deserve　to　be　called　a　personality。　I　cannot　discover　even　a　general　direction。　Much　more　am　I　like　a　taxi…cab　in　which　all　sorts　of　aims　and　desires　have　travelled　to　their　destination　and　got　out。　Are　we　all　like　that？〃　〃A　bundle　held　together　by　a　name　and　address　and　a　certain　thread　of　memory？〃　said　the　doctor　and　considered。　〃More　than　that。　More　than　that。　We　have　leading　ideas；　associations；　possessions；　liabilities。〃　〃We　build　ourselves　a　prison　of　circumstances　that　keeps　us　from　complete　dispersal。〃　〃Exactly；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃And　there　is　also　something；　a　consistency；　that　we　call　character。〃　〃It　changes。〃　〃Consistently　with　itself。〃　〃I　have　been　trying　to　recall　my　sexual　history；〃　said　Sir　Richmond；　going　off　at　a　tangent。　〃My　sentimental　education。　I　wonder　if　it　differs　very　widely　from　yours　or　most　men's。〃　〃Some　men　are　more　eventful　in　these　matters　than　others；〃　said　the　doctor；it　soundedwistfully。　〃They　have　the　same　jumble　of　motives　and　traditions；　I　suspect；　whether　they　are　eventful　or　not。　The　brakes　may　be　strong　or　weak　but　the　drive　is　the　same。　I　can't　remember　much　of　the　beginnings　of　curiosity　and　knowledge　in　these　matters。　Can　you？〃　〃Not　much；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃No。〃　〃Your　psychoanalysts　tell　a　story　of　fears；　suppressions；　monstrous　imaginations；　symbolic　replacements。　I　don't　remember　much　of　that　sort　of　thing　in　my　own　case。　It　may　have　faded　out　of　my　mind。　There　were　probably　some　uneasy　curiosities；　a　grotesque　dream　or　so　perhaps；　I　can't　recall　anything　of　that　sort　distinctly　now。　I　had　a　very　lively　interest　in　women；　even　when　I　was　still　quite　a　little　boy；　and　a　certainwhat　shall　I　call　it？imaginative　slavishnessnot　towards　actual　women　but　towards　something　magnificently　feminine。　My　first　love〃　Sir　Richmond　smiled　at　some　secret　memory。　〃My　first　love　was　Britannia　as　depicted　by　Tenniel　in　the　cartoons　in　PUNCH。　I　must　have　been　a　very　little　chap　at　the　time　of　the　Britannia　affair。　I　just　clung　to　her　in　my　imagination　and　did　devoted　things　for　her。　Then　I　recall；　a　little　later；　a　secret　abject　adoration　for　the　white　goddesses　of　the　Crystal　Palace。　Not　for　any　particular　one　of　them　that　I　can　remember；for　all　of　them。　But　I　don't　remember　anything　very　monstrous　or　incestuous　in　my　childish　imaginations；　such　things　as　Freud；　I　understand；　lays　stress　upon。　If　there　was　an　Oedipus　complex　or　anything　of　that　sort　in　my　case　it　has　been　very　completely　washed　out　again。　Perhaps　a　child　which　is　brought　up　in　a　proper　nursery　of　its　own　and　sees　a　lot　of　pictures　of　the　nude　human　body；　and　so　on；　gets　its　mind　shifted　off　any　possible　concentration　upon　the　domestic　aspect　of　sex。　I　got　to　definite　knowledge　pretty　early。　By　the　time　I　was　eleven　or　twelve。〃　〃Normally？　〃　〃What　is　normally？　Decently；　anyhow。　Here　again　I　may　be　forgetting　much　secret　and　shameful　curiosity。　I　got　my　ideas　into　definite　form　out　of　a　little　straightforward　physiological　teaching　and　some　dissecting　of　rats　and　mice。　My　schoolmaster　was　a　capable　sane　man　in　advance　of　his　times　and　my　people　believed　in　him。　I　think　much　of　this　distorted　perverse　stuff　that　grows　up　in　people's　minds　about　sex　and　develops　into　evil　vices　and　still　more　evil　habits；　is　due　to　the　mystery　we　make　about　these　things。〃　〃Not　entirely；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃Largely。　What　child　under　a　modern　upbringing　ever　goes　through　the　stuffy　horrors　described　in　James　Joyce's　PORTRAIT　OF　THE　ARTIST　AS　A　YOUNG　MAN。〃　〃I've　not　read　it。〃　〃A　picture　of　the　Catholic　atmosphere；　a　young　soul　shut　up　in　darkness　and　ignorance　to　accumulate　filth。　In　the　name　of　purity　and　decency　and　under　threats　of　hell　fire。〃　〃Horrible！〃　〃Quite。　A　study　of　intolerable　tensions；　the　tensions　that　make　young　people　write　unclean　words　in　secret　places。　〃　〃Yes；　we　certainly　ventilate　and　sanitate　in　those　matters　nowadays。　Where　nothing　is　concealed；　nothing　can　explode。〃　〃On　the　whole　I　came　up　to　adolescence　pretty　straight　and　clean；〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃What　stands　out　in　my　memory　now　is　this　idea；　of　a　sort　of　woman　goddess　who　was　very　lovely　and　kind　and　powerful　and　wonderful。　That　ruled　my　secret　imaginations　as　a　boy；　but　it　was　very　much　in　my　mind　as　I　grew　up。〃　〃The　mother　complex；〃　said　Dr。　Martineau　as　a　passing　botanist　might　recognize　and　name　a　flower。　Sir　Richmond　stared　at　him　for　a　moment。　〃It　had　not　the　slightest　connexion　with　my　mother　or　any　mother　or　any　particular　woman　at　all。　Far　better　to　call　it　the　goddess　complex。〃　〃The　connexion　is　not　perhaps　immediately　visible；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃There　was　no　connexion；〃　said　Sir　Richmond。　〃The　women　of　my　adolescent　dreams　were　stripped　and　strong　and　lovely。　They　were　great　creatures。　They　came；　it　was　clearly　traceable；　from　pictures　sculptureand　from　a　definite　response　in　myself　to　their　beauty。　My　mother　had　nothing　whatever　to　do　with　that。　The　women　and　girls　about　me　were　fussy　bunches　of　clothes　that　I　am　sure　I　never　even　linked　with　that　dream　world　of　love　and　worship。〃　〃Were　you　co…educated？〃　〃No。　But　I　had　a　couple　of　sisters；　one　older；　one　younger　than　myself；　and　there　were　plenty　of　girls　in　my　circle。　I　thought　some　of　them　prettybut　that　was　a　different　affair。　I　know　that　I　didn't　connect　them　with　the　idea　of　the　loved　and　worshipped　goddesses　at　all；　because　I　remember　when　I　first　saw　the　goddess　in　a　real　human　being　and　how　amazed　I　was　at　the　discovery。　。　。　。　I　was　a　boy　of　twelve　or　thirteen。　My　people　took　me　one　summer　to　Dymchurch　in　Romney　Marsh；　in　those　days　before　the　automobile　had　made　the　Marsh　accessible　to　the　Hythe　and　Folkestone　crowds；　it　was　a　little　old　forgotten　silent　wind…bitten　village　crouching　under　the　lee　of　the　great　sea　wall。　At　low　water　there　were　miles　of　sand　as