At present the new countryside is a great resource. I walk far among
the wolds; I find exquisite villages, where every stone-built house
seems to have style and quality; I come down upon green water-meadows,
with clear streams flowing by banks set with thorn-bushes and alders.
The churches, the manor-houses, of grey rubble smeared with plaster,
with stone roof-tiles, are a feast for eye and heart. Long days in the
open air bring me a dull equable health of body, a pleasant weariness,
a good-humoured indifference. My mind becomes grass-grown, full of
weeds, ruinous; but I welcome it as at least a respite from suffering.
It is strange to think of myself at what ought, I suppose, to be the
busiest and fullest time of my life, living here like a tree in lonely
fields. What would be the normal life? A little house in a London
street, I suppose, with a lot of white paint and bookshelves.
Luncheons, dinners, plays, music, clubs, week-end visits to lively
houses, a rush abroad, a few country visits in the winter. Very
harmless and pleasant if one enjoyed it, but to me inconceivable and
insupportable. Perhaps I should be happier and brisker, perhaps the
time would go quicker. Ought one to make up one's mind that this would
be the normal life, and that therefore one had better learn to
accommodate oneself to it? Does one pay penalties for not submitting
oneself to the ordinary laws of human intercourse? Doubtless one does.
But then, made as I am, I should have to pay penalties which would seem
to be even heavier for the submission. It is there that the puzzle
lies; that a man should be created with the strong instinct that I feel
for liberty and independence and solitude and the quiet of the country,
and then that he should discover that the life he so desires should be
the one that develops all the worst side of him--morbidity,
fastidiousness, gloom, discontent. This is the shadow of civilisation;
that it makes people intellectual, alert, craving for stimulus, and yet
sucks their nerves dry of the strength that makes such things enjoyable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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