Autobiographical fiction; Domestic fiction; Male authors -- Fiction; Men -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
for thy comforter; and comfort thee, stand by thee, and fight for thee,
will thy leapingly-acknowledging brother, whom thy own father named
Pierre!"
He could not stay in his chamber: the house contracted to a nut-shell
around him; the walls smote his forehead; bare-headed he rushed from the
place, and only in the infinite air, found scope for that boundless
expansion of his life.
BOOK IV.
RETROSPECTIVE.
I.
In their precise tracings-out and subtile causations, the strongest and
fieriest emotions of life defy all analytical insight. We see the cloud,
and feel its bolt; but meteorology only idly essays a critical scrutiny
as to how that cloud became charged, and how this bolt so stuns. The
metaphysical writers confess, that the most impressive, sudden, and
overwhelming event, as well as the minutest, is but the product of an
infinite series of infinitely involved and untraceable foregoing
occurrences. Just so with every motion of the heart. Why this cheek
kindles with a noble enthusiasm; why that lip curls in scorn; these are
things not wholly imputable to the immediate apparent cause, which is
only one link in the chain; but to a long line of dependencies whose
further part is lost in the mid-regions of the impalpable air.
Idle then would it be to attempt by any winding way so to penetrate into
the heart, and memory, and inmost life, and nature of Pierre, as to show
why it was that a piece of intelligence which, in the natural course of
things, many amiable gentlemen, both young and old, have been known to
receive with a momentary feeling of surprise, and then a little
curiosity to know more, and at last an entire unconcern; idle would it
be, to attempt to show how to Pierre it rolled down on his soul like
melted lava, and left so deep a deposit of desolation, that all his
subsequent endeavors never restored the original temples to the soil,
nor all his culture completely revived its buried bloom.
But some random hints may suffice to deprive a little of its
strangeness, that tumultuous mood, into which so small a note had thrown
him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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