Hey Rub-a-dub-dub: A Book of the Mystery and Wonder and Terror of LifeDreiser, Theodore
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Hey Rub-a-dub-dub: A Book of the Mystery and Wonder and Terror of Life
Dreiser, Theodore
American essays -- 20th century
Again, are not all of our ambitions, if not as to their purport at least
as to their outcome, secret? Nature provides secrecy, or uncertainty,
which is the same thing, or darkness as a condition for the development
of quite everything, from seeds to human plans, and builds and builds
with us in countless ways and to astonishing results, and yet we are not
permitted to share Her secret. Our petty brains and bodies are but mere
implements of sorts in Her hands whereby She is constructing something,
the significance or purpose of which we cannot even guess and which She
is at no pains to reveal. She builds us to contain, or rather to
comprehend, but a modicum, a minute fragment, of the enormous
information or secret which is Hers. Secrecy on Her part, you see.
If one turns to the pages of science, what a masterly array of natural
diplomacy and artifice is there displayed! The fishes of the sea
imitating the coloring of the grasses or shadows of the deep in which
they hide and by means of which they escape their enemies (protective
coloring is the scientific name); insects the same, in so far as foliage
and grasses are concerned; birds the same; reptiles the same; man, for
all his noble theories and dreams of a generous and unselfish mode of
conduct, the same; as artificial and secretive as any, he. The stripling
lawyer imitates the look and manner of his intellectual superior--words,
phrases, carriage, side-whiskers even--in order to seem his equal, or in
other words to conceal (secrecy, you see) the fact that he is not his
equal, from some trusting and unsophisticated client. Protective
coloring, as it were.
Take again the instance of a man beginning to rise financially and
wishing to appear the equivalent of men far richer than himself. His
office is in their vicinity, his residence in their neighborhood. He is
in their club if possible, their church, their directories. He is not as
rich as they are, but wishes to conceal the fact. It is not good for the
world to know that he is not what he is not. His few public deeds would
not be as acceptable or he would be compelled to doff the uniform he so
much desires to wear, the manners, along possibly with the emoluments
thereof, or the hope of them. Secrecy--secrecy--secrecy. A seeming only,
where reality would leave life bare and hard.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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